[hr][hr][center][h1][/h1][img] https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/504122082729132034/756988552734310500/Waverley_Moodboard_Extra_Smoll.jpg[/img][hr]
[color=Purple][b]Location:[/b][/color] Outside Jack's Office
[color=Purple][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Perception, Radio Wave Interpretation[/center][hr][hr]
	Waverley tensed up when Veil explained that Max had done as she asked. She was conflicted; none of her thought putting Sunshine's life in Max's hands was a good idea, but at the same time, Veil had more experience under her belt than she did. So she remained silent. Her eyes narrowed as Jack began to speak. She was largely a woman of mundane talents, but she had sharp eyes, eyes that took in every twitch that came with Jack's stuttering voice, capturing every which way his eyes shifted as he spoke. It was hard to trust the man who shoved a chloroform rag into her face, but at the same time...she was a naturally trusting person. Even after everything she'd been through, she always chose to look for the best in people, a trait that usually ended up being more of a weakness than a strength. She wanted to believe the man who slept in the room next to her wasn't a psychopath - so she did. She finally let out a deep sigh, dropping her gaze from Jack.

	[color=purple]"But what fuck would Emma Frost want with Sunshine?"[/color] she mused, her eyes flitting down the sidewalk, eventually looking up to Veil, as if she might be able to answer it despite the fact that she'd just asked it herself. The revelation only caused her protectiveness over Sunshine to spike. As soon as they were reunited with the girl, Waverley wasn't going to let her out of her sight. Her attention was then pulled to Callie, and the woman's worries of purifiers and police were enough to remind Waverley of her job as the Mutant Underground alarm system. She stretched her mind outward, drawing in nearby radio waves in search of any signs of hostiles in the area. Instead, her mind was immediately swamped with a voice that sounded like it'd be most at home saying a slur. And it did, a few times; the man speaking was going on about the ungodly mutants, talking about them as though they were the shit under the heel of God. She recognized the voice: the evangelical Reverend Stryker, a title that the Christian girl felt he didn't deserve. She didn't like the feeling of hearing his voice in her skull, but she had a hard time shutting it out. She wildly shook her head, before hitting the side of her head, the way one would bonk a broken car radio. After a few slaps to her temple, the voice was replaced by static. 

	[color=purple]"That was...violating,"[/color] Waverley mumbled, letting out an audible gag. She then took a deep breath, recollecting herself, and she tried again. Her mind scanned the invisible waves that filled the city, but she didn't find anything else of note. So she looked back to her two companions. [color=purple]"I don't hear any signs of anyone we should be scared of, other than Stryker polluting the airwaves with one of his sermons."[/color]