[hr][hr][center][h1][color=Purple]Waverley Watts - Feedback[/color][/h1][img]https://images.amcnetworks.com/amc.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/nos4a2-105-maggie-smith-wraith-1200x707.jpg[/img][hr]
[color=Purple][b]Location:[/b][/color] Old Mutant Underground HQ - Outside in What Might Be a Trap, or Might Not Be
[color=Purple][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Radio Wave Interpretation[/center][hr][hr]
Waverley could feel the rage continuing to simmer in her veins as Max apologized. She didn't believe him for a second, though that was likely a subconscious choice more than anything. It was easier to doubt than it was to forgive, especially with such a personal issue. But her distrust of the regrets he voiced was somewhat validated when, almost immediately after he was done, he shifted his tone to compliment Veil on her leadership. It made Waverley seethe with anger, hearing her mother's demise mentioned as a passing apology. It reminded her of the morning she first learned of the accident - or murder, as she thought of it - when Veil addressed the tragedy with only a sentence or two in their morning briefing. The infuriated purple-haired girl prepared to continue her verbal attacks on her mother's killer, when she felt a hand land on her shoulder.

Waverley Watts couldn't remember the last time she felt calm. It was probably when she was a kid, before middle school or high school, before she ended up befriending a group of girls who would rip her throat out if she ever made them look bad. Before societal pressures and the unbearable fear of embarrassment carved out a permanent space for themselves in her mind. Even when all was well, and she was in the company of her new friends in the Underground, there was a lurking dread of humiliation that hung constantly in her mind, an anxiety that never went away, a little voice that told her what thoughts to voice, and which ones to keep inside. But as Callie emotionally uncorked Waverley, not only did her hatred and rage drain out of her, but so too did that voice. She felt nothing but serenity. Is that what Casper felt like when he took those pills? If so, she understood the appeal. It was something she could see herself getting used to, which was a thought she didn't have the sense to be scared of in her current state of tranquility. 

Emptied of the wrath she'd held only seconds later, the unnaturally loud heartbeat that exuded from Waverley died down, quickly becoming inaudible once again. Her sharp expression dulled, passionate scowl softening into a thoughtful frown, and her wide, hostile eyes became half-lidded and relaxed. Her tense shoulders dropped as she stepped away from Max and the destroyed care package between them. Without a word, only a small nod to Callie, sat down on the sidewalk. She reached out her mind, scanning the area for any out-of-the-ordinary transmissions that would suggest someone was approaching. When she felt none, she lifted her head, dropping back into the conversation.

[color=purple]"Warlock? In fifth edition, the warlock is the class that makes deals with devils. Fitting for you, I think,"[/color] she said, though it didn't sounded at all spiteful. It sounded vaguely bemused. That amusement quickly drained however, as a new thought came to mind. Or perhaps it wasn't new. It felt like it had been there all along, but was previously inaccessible amid the noise and rage that had been drowning out most of her coherent thoughts. But with all that gone, the thought surfaced. When Waverley spoke, it was cold, collected, free of fury. [color=purple]"You're not a hero, Warlock. I don't think you ever will be. But that doesn't mean you can't start trying,"[/color] she paused, lowering her eyes to look down at the asphalt. When she looked back up, while she still looked mostly at Max, her eyes would occasionally glance at the members of her own team as well. [color=purple]"The day you killed...the day you killed my mother and her fellow officers, it wasn't just their families you hurt. You hurt relations between humans and mutants. You gave the people who hate us all the more reason to do so. That's not something you can fix completely...but you might be able to undo some of the damage done. If you really do want to be a hero then...come with us. Veil can mask our faces, so our identities are hidden, but our status as mutants is clear. Once she's done that, we'll go and hand you over to the police. I can send a tip to a few news stations, moderate ones, so they can get footage of it, and make sure that people know the truth about who turned him in. If people see a group of mutants handing over a known cop killer...It might not change everyone's minds, but I think it'll help."[/color] As Waverley finished, she looked to the other members of the Underground, trying to gauge their reactions to her suggestion.