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Location: Inside of a small, sad house within a small, sad town ---> The Carriage




She lifted the flute from its home within the box. There was nothing much else of interest in the small wooden crate. She investigated the object, fingers roaming over the holes as the faint smells of yore touched her nose. The wood was badly damaged and even smelled of invading mildew. She suspected that, even if she were a talented flute player, this particular instrument would have played quite poorly. She set the object back into the box and closed the lid once more. She idled beside it a few beats as she considered whether or not to take it with her. She decided, at last, she would and vanished the box with a flick of her fingers.

Now that the immediate interesting thing had disappeared she noticed a nagging she had been, up until now, ignoring. It pulled at her power, thrummed over her heartstrings, and generally made a mess of her worn nerves. It made her feel ill. She frowned and touched a hand to her chest as she stood and exited the house. She looked around as if the thing might appear to her but she could tell from the subtlety of the urging that whatever it was that pulled at her in this way was not close. Or it was very, very small.

She attempted to push it from her mind as she wandered further into town. More abandoned homes. More sad memories. The place just reeked of it. She rubbed a hand over her face and it came away wet. Fatima realized she had started to cry again. In frustrated anger, she scrubbed away the salted water from her cheeks. When Fatima had finished she found she was standing in an open field. Perhaps it had once been some sort of garden or park, but now it was claimed by the wild. Tall grasses were interspersed with Witch Blood. A great sadness welled up in her again and clapped her hands over her cheeks, causing them to turn red with the sting of her palms. She turned from the stupid park to head back to the stupid carriage where all her stupid allies were. Okay, her allies weren't stupid. She was just feeling upset and she had to remind herself that she shouldn't take it out on any of them.

Fatima soon approached the small group and made a line straight for Jandar without much of a look toward any of the others. She placed a hand on his wrist and leaned her forehead against the same arm as she closed her eyes. She had missed everything that had just been spoken about and so was feeling a little out of place. She just needed a moment, someone to lean on until she had her wits about her again. Though, it had been at least a day since her wits were anywhere within arms reach.


Location: Outside of a small, sad town




In the days that followed, Fatima had been somewhat of a mess. She tucked away the ashes into an urn before leaving the Eyrie. She spent her time quiet and dour, sticking close to Jandar as he was the nearest thing she had to an 'old friend' at this point in time. Her bronzed skin was pale. She barely ate or drank anything. It took much rousing to get her to speak or move more than necessary. She was just a husk of a person.

It was in silence she allowed herself to be helped down from the carriage. She hadn't wanted to move initially but was soon pushed out into daylight. She blinked against the sun, raising her hand to help block against it. The whirr of grasshoppers built a grand crescendo before dying away only to repeat their resounding song around them in the grasses. The others were speaking about a town. She found she was having trouble caring. Hearing. She couldn't feel the thrum of life here that she normally would upon entering a town. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the homes had been abandoned. Fatima walked barefoot into the witch blood and followed an invisible path into the town.

Perhaps it was due to the conversations they were all having but it seemed that by some miracle she was able to drift away into the old town. It felt as empty as she did. She paused for a moment to kneel down and touch the blooms of the Witch Blood. Her fingers brushed over delicate petals and she took in their scent. It was calming and strummed a chord in her heart. With tears pricking the corners of her eyes she stood and again moved toward the first of the houses. Her fingertips brushed over the walls in desperate need of white-washing. Rotted timber left a sweet scent in the air which mixed sickeningly with the Witch Blood. Lifting her skirts she rounded the side of the building.

The door had since fallen free of its place, laying on the ground. Blades of grass poked through holes and cracks. A fine, dirty moss had started to creep along the edges. She looked inside the home and found dust coated every surface of the room within. She held her breath, afraid that if she were to breathe out it would disturb the settled peace of abandonment. Her eyes searched the room finding tools, kitchenware, a pot at the fireplace, and some bits of tattered darning.

Curiosity gripped her, the first fleeting, fluttering emotion she'd had beyond her heavy and tired depression in days. She followed it, ascending the single step up into the house. Her skirts created a wake of disturbed dust particles behind her. Freed from their brethren, they swirled and danced on light breezes created by her movements. They caught and reflected in beams of sunlight, giving the first signs of movement in the houses in what had to be years. Unable to stop herself she touched and picked up some of the items. These were memories left to rot. They had served a purpose and done their due diligence before being left to wither into the nothingness bequeathed them by the endless march of time.

She lifted a necklace from a table, but the thread had since decayed so much that it was no longer able to support the weight of the beads. With a clatter they scattered about the room, the sound deafening in what had been a sweet and somber silence. Fatima winced and as she turned toward the doorway she noticed, for the first time, a box beside it. She approached the thing, wonderment at what forgotten memories it could hold quickening her breath. She reached out her hands and pushed open the lid.





Location: The Dining Room




Xandar had brought the entire bed from Faeril's room into the dining room, seeing as though the preferred lounging spot was covered in blood. Faeril herself was on that bed, and sleeping or not, she had a large Eyrien Warlord prince with his arms and wings wrapped around her. It was very clear that this meeting was impeding is nap time, and Faeril would have to be present and miss nap time too if he had to. It was only fair. He ponders of the topic of where the group should go, thinking back to his own experiences traveling and the advice from Randalvar. “West. I have contacts in Shalador and Nahele that I could try to contact, get a bearing on our situation. Nahele in the mountains would be ideal for hiding, and if that goes south, Challiot to the far west is as isolated as they come. My communication has fell with them recently, but it’s worth a shot.”

Jandar sat at one of the wooden chairs, his back and elbows leaning on the dining table as he faced the rest of the people crowded in the room. The bed carrying the Black Widow and Xandar was the methaphorical pink elephant in the room, but beyond a startled look, the Kaeleeran Warlord chose to ignore it. "As a more of a long-term goal, I can only offer aid in Kaereel, however the issue would be getting there. If we can get more allies via Prince Markov's acquaintances, that could certainly be helpful," he commented.

The bed took up half the room, and while none of the three brothers had stopped him since they found the entire situation highly amusing... They had vanished some of the furniture in the way as 'they might need it elsewhere for Fatima'. Faeril herself had slept through it. A testament to her exhaustion. Meanwhile her erstwhile protectors snickered to themselves.

It did take quite a long time for Mikhail to clean the mess on Faeril's secret room and dispose of the bodies in a... 'discreet' way, without letting the others see it, but when he finished, he went to the dining room where he probably could find the others. The results of the torture were as Mikhail expected. Even though they didn't know much as they were merely pawns for Queen Melian, they did confirm that they were sent by the Master of the guard. It was clear that Queen Melian wouldn't let them go that easily. As long as they stood somewhere in her territory, where her eyes and ears were everywhere, they would have a very tough time... Even if they left her territory, it was highly unlikely that she would let them go like that... Which gave Mikhail a few good ideas about what to do.

Getting there, Mikhail was greeted by a rather strange sight... Someone, for some reason, had taken Faeril's bed to the dining room. Somehow, even after being dragged from her room to the dining room, Faeril was still sleeping soundly on it. Choosing to simply ignore said scene instead of asking something, he began to say what he had to.

"The warriors who came after us were Queen Melian's pawns. They were under orders of Queen Mellian's Master of the Guard." Mikhail said, hopefully gaining the attention of those who were in the dinning room at the moment. "We won't be safe as long as we stay inside Queen Melian's territory. Even if we leave, it's highly likely that she will still go after Faeril. That said..." Mikhail continued, expecting that the Eyrien brothers would be able to tell Faeril of Mikhail's plans when she woke up.

"We can use this against her. Our best bet is going to another Queen's territory. No matter who she is, she won't take kindly if she knows that another Queen sent her forces inside her territory without consulting her first. Even if this other Queen knows Faeril and has a similar objective as Queen Melian, she and Melian will still enter in a conflict, which will give us plenty of time and room to disappear if we're careful." Mikhail continued.

"It will give us some time to organize ourselves, assess the situation and make preparations to deal with it." he finished, looking to the Eyrien brothers.

"I would be grateful if you passed this information to Faeril when she wakes up too." He finished, waiting for their answer.

Bellinar shrugged. "Well, considering things... Big, Ebon-Grey, and about to loose his balls over there can tell her." He smirked jerking his head towards Xandar.

Xandar yawned into the top of Faeril's head, using it to cover his yawn before picking his head back up and looking at the rest of the people in the room. "Hey, it's not my fault she's sleeping like a rock. I don't think it'll be too hard telling her 'hey, we're going here'. It seems like no matter what, West and out of Melian's territory is our best bet. We just need direction and purpose, but from there we need to take our journey one day at a time."

Dareen had followed Mikhail out of the chamber beneath the house after a moment, scratching the hood around her head. Man. That was brutal. Mikhail sure did know what he was doing. Blinking a bit at the sight of a bed in the living room, and this whole situation Xandar had put himself in, Dareen found a comfortable looking corner and leaned her back against it, crossing her arms and staying silent for a moment. To be honest, Dareen still wasn't sure what her relationship relative to the others was. Most likely she didn't have much of a voice in the matter. She didn't even know if she was invited. Still, only one to find out. "Obviously, you shouldn't go south, towards Pruul." While the suggestion itself was obvious, Dareen had perhaps mistakenly used some more provactive language in regards to her relationship with the other people in the room.

Fatima had stayed to watch the last of the fire burn down to coals. She, bleary and tired, entered the Eyrie. There was still blood but she hardly noticed it. She followed the sounds of people and the warm glow of light to the dining room. Hereupon she found... a bed.... with Xandar and Faeril. And everyone else milling about. Fatima blinked a couple of times and then backed out of the room. She entered again and there was still the bed. She rubbed soot stained hands over her face and looked toward the brothers. "Can you point me in the direction of the kitchen? I'm going to put on some coffee."

Gen took Fatima in hand and steered her to a comfortable chair, pouring her a cup of coffee. "We have coffee in here. Milk and surgar too." He added, gesturing to the little bowls of said condiments. "So Pruul and Hayll are obviously out... I wouldn't risk Dhemlan." The Green Jeweled Warlord Prince noted.

Denvar sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Kaeleer may not the be the worst idea in the long run of things. We haven't heard of anything from the Shadow Realm." The other name by which Kaeleer was known, "So it's probably the best option. How to get there though..."

Gennar shrugged, "We get out of Askavi, then figure that out. And- shit." The Warlord swore as the Eyrien woman in Xandar's grasp shifted and stirred. The three brothers immediately jerked to wary attention. Far too used to Faeril's temper and knowing that knew she would not take kindly to the situation. Xandar himself would feel the woman squirm about and cuddle deeper before there was a positive shift of her body and temper. Hot fury warming the woman and the bed as icy eyes snapped up to lock onto the Reaper.

"What in the name of Hell are you doing in my bed."

Xandar smiled at Fatima, nodding his head. “Welcome to the discussion, my Queen. We were just discussing our next move, or at least where we’re heading.” He said, nodding along as the brothers spoke. He made a unamused face at the mention of the Shadow Realm, a place he had heard of but knew very little. He had no contacts, only mythos and legends. He also knew that Mikhail’s kind had come from there, the warrior race of that realm.

“While I don’t know much of that place, I don’t think we need to figure out long term. Short term we can just get the hell out of Askavi west bound into the mountains. Getting away will do us good, but we also need to help formulate a plot of attack. Gather intel, gather support.”

It seemed the rather warm and squirmy bundle of joy in his arms was staring daggers up at him, seemingly woken up from all the noise. He smiled casually, not flinching like the others as he slowly started to pet her head, running his fingers through her hair. He looked down at the bed, then back into her eyes. “Well, it was comfortable. And the furniture is a bit bloodied up thanks to your old friend Mikhail. So when I brought you in here I took the liberty of offering you some company while we discussed our next move. Care to join us? I figured you wanted to be apart of this discussion.”

"Ah," came her simple reply to Xandar. She took the warm coffee into her hands and just stared into the inky depths. "Thank you," came her rather late mumble. She brought the cup to her lips and sipped carefully. She was glad of the acidic, bitter drink. Helped bring her clarity in what was proving to be a very foggy day. She looked back at Xandar and Faeril with a frown. "You know... I rather enjoy him alive. Please don't hurt him too badly." She then went back to her coffee. She was not about to allow the woman to harm her Eryien friend, not while they were weak in numbers. Not while they were in danger. But she wasn't going to let him just get away with his silly actions either. Everything had a consequence.

Faeril's ice filled eyes narrowed at the cocky warrior as the foolish man ran his fingers through her hair. As enjoyable as it was, and damn him for it!, the woman savored it for a moment as her cheeks flushed with a mixture of pleasure and anger. Jerking her head and self away from the Xandar, the woman gave a impromptu yelp as a large arm about her waist as the Ebon-Grey locked her in place. "You just decided to pick up my entire bed, and move it out here. So you all could continue a discussion." She stated slowly, her voice filled with glacier coldness. "Release me, and take my bed back." She stated each word slowly as if speaking to someone not particularly bright. "You three did not stop him?" She snapped at the brothers who had looks ranging from smirks to hurt false innocence.

"Well, you were sleeping," Fatima said in their defense

Mikhail heard in silence as the group considered the options they had. Dareen had been somewhat quiet since he finished interrogating the Eyrien prisoner, but she did a quick comment mentioning Pruul. While Pruul would be a good place for someone to disappear, it was also an incredibly dangerous place for a thousand different reasons. Overall, not a good option for them.

After welcoming a rather confused Fatima, Gennar was the next to voice his thoughts, adding Hayll to the list of the places they shouldn't go. He also mentioned it wouldn't be a good idea to risk going to Dhemlan, but considering what they were trying to do, they should consider it too.

"Kaeleer..." Mikhail repeated, thinking.

"It might be a good option. It wouldn't be that hard to erase our tracks. The lack of information is exactly what it makes a very good place for what we are trying to do. Getting out of Askavi will still be a bit dangerous, but once we get there, we should be safe." He continued, after hearing Gennar and Xandar.

Before he could say anything more though, Faeril, who was sleeping soundly until now, finally woke up and she was just as pissed as Mikhail thought she would be when she saw Xandar on the bed with her...

Knowing that nothing good would come out of the current situation with Faeril, even after Fatima's words, Mikhail discreetly gave a step back, grabbing a cup of coffee as an excuse to give a few steps back so Faeril's eyes wouldn't immediately met with his.

“Well did you not want to be part of this discussion? I figured you would want in. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.” Xandar chuckled, still holding her as he carried her over the shoulder and slid off the bed. He used both hands now, holding her securely as he floated the bed behind him. “Well you heard the lady, she wants no part in this. I feel like we’re in agreement anyhow. To the mountains and out of Askavi, then off to the land down under. Marvelous. Well, goodnight everyone.” He said as he disappeared with Faeril and the bed into her bedroom.

Dareen scratched the back of her head through her hood, furrowing her brow at the odd display of petty power plays. It reminded her of the squabbling amongst the lower ranks of her old crew. But it was hard to read Xandar's actions as merely playful teasing. One of the most essential parts of having a healthy banter-based relationship with comrades is the ability to allow oneself to occasionally be the butt of the joke. Dareen couldn't imagine the Grey jeweled goliath allowed himself to be put in a situation like that. She glanced around at the brothers three, Mikhail, Fatima, and the new person whom with she had not been properly introduced. There'd probably be time for that later. Dareen watched with a bemused detatchment as the bed floated out of the room and vanished around the corner. "I, uh..." She pressed her lips together and said nothing. But somehow the brief statement managed to get her message across anyway.

Mikhail watched in silence and still shocked as the exchange between Xandar and Faeril went on, resulting in him quite literally carrying her away in his arms, together with her bed into Faeril's bedroom.

"... I don't know if it's too early to ask but... Do we already have a replacement for Xandar...? Oh, by the way, I'm not cleaning the ground after Faeril is done with him." Mikhail said, giving another sip into the cup of coffee he had began drinking only as an excuse to walk away, but now was drinking it for real.

It was then that he heard Dareen's voice as she began saying something but interrupted herself. She was awfully quiet since the 'interrogation session' she saw him doing... While Mikhail understood that she wanted to be useful, he couldn't help but to think that she was still a bit shocked about the experience.

"Dareen, are you ok?" Mikhail asked in a low tone as he gave a few steps towards her.

"I do understand you want to be helpful, but you don't need to force yourself to do or watch something you wouldn't like to. The things you watched me doing in Faeril's secret room... Can I do anything to help you forget about them?" Mikhail asked, low enough so only Dareen would hear.

Unlike other times, his voice was much calmer and his eyes weren't as cold and penetrating as they were anymore. With the situation calming down, Mikhail's personality also changed accordingly, a trait that those who were around him should have noticed by now.

Dareen raised her eyebrows at Mikhail. "Hmm?" She hummed questioningly. Mikhail was offering...emotional support? If in a slightly ominous way. Help me forget? She thought. She supposed the thought was nice. Certainly Dareen was no stranger to violence. "Well, thanks, Mikhail." She started talking a little too loud, then lowered her voice to math Mikhail's tone. "But, uh, I'm fine. You don't need to...help me forget." She managed, suppressing a smirk. What he did was pretty gross, though. Still, she tried to politely dismiss his concerns.

It was all quite a lot for Fatima to take in. She could not process the information - sights, sounds. She touched her fingers to her forehead and breathed deeply before letting out a slow and shaky breath. Her expression turned sour for a moment as Xandar waltzed his way from the room carrying the rowdy Widow. Mikhail mentioned something about a secret room. Things to forget. She shook her head and downed the last of her coffee before standing. "I am longing for a hot bath," she directed the comment toward the brothers. "And a warm bed. Would you be so kind as to direct me?" Her voice was tired and raspy, having been put too much to work this day.








Location: Outside the Eyrie




Fatima kept to herself as they worked. She was absorbed in the labor, allowing that energy which stagnated and wallowed in every hollow bit of her to be released through action. She cried as she worked, tears spilling from a solemn face but never slowing her actions. Back and forth between the woods and the garden bed. Fingernails were torn with the effort of digging loose stones. Mud brushed over her face with the back of her hand or brushed off on her blood-encrusted tunic. It was easy to see that the woman was quite the mess, however, she behaved with the decorum a Queen should have. This was something beaten into since a young age. She heard her name once, spoken between the two men who helped her. She lifted her eyes to them for a brief moment - bleary and tired. It did not seem to concern her currently and she went back to her introspection.

Once she was satisfied with the way things were laid out she did a quick double-check. She had to make sure each thing was exactly in the place it should be. From there she called on the energy of her birthright stone to dry out the wood. Her Sapphire was the only jewel she was truly used to using, having kept her Grey hidden for her whole life. It may have been the deep sadness she felt, the inability to focus, or perhaps she was just so emotionally drained but it didn't work. The wood did not dry and she tried again. Still to no avail. Tears were streaming more freely down her face with the building of her frustration.

With a choked sob she blasted the wood again. This time, completely by accident, it was with the Grey. Her Grey was something she did not have as clear control upon and when her emotions welled and swirled it tended to act out. The wood immediately dried, becoming brittle with the release of water. Steam billowed before them for a moment then followed by the scent of smoke. None of the wood had caught fire, but it looked as if it would catch flame should Mikhail and Xandar have a conversation too close to it.
Mona Windrider



Location: Room 847 - the Ramblings
Skills:





It seemed all were in agreement with her stone idea. An idea that did not involve killing people, though it would appear that was not a huge cause for concern. For one of them at the very least. She frowned a bit, considering that, and then figured it was really none of her business. She was just here to help, what they did in their free time was certainly up to them.

She brightened at the suggestion of the tavern. Mona was starving, having earlier vomited up her delicious delights. She didn't understand about the vigilante. She had missed something? She was sure that she would come to understand later. For now, the thought of filling her stomach with a warm meal after all of this chaos was far too prevalent in her mind. "Are we walkin' or wooshin'?" She hoped it was walking, she wasn't sure she could "Woosh" three people. Did the parameters change for vampires?




Location: The Casino, Bar
Skill:




Jesus.
H.
Christ.

Did there constantly need to be turmoil? Bobbi growled as she hoisted herself over the bar to the other side of it. She grabbed her drink and kept low as she watched the ruckus unfurl before her. People were diving or being thrown or having things thrown at them. Where was Gambit when you needed him? There was an odd little piece of her that wanted to join the fray and fuck some people up. And maybe get fucked up a little. But there was another bit of her battling against it which called for self-preservation and using her brains.

A stool flew over the bar and she had to duck in order to not be hit in the head. Her scowl renewed she took a nearly empty bottle of vodka, drained the couple shots that were left, and then threw it out into the crowd. Retaliation, she couldn't sit idly by while her head was on the line. And her booze. She sipped the drink, slinking down along the side of the bar. She came to the opening at the end and peered around. She found Jack and some guy on the ground. "Oi, love birds. Over here," She gestured toward them. And then at the other pair of love birds - Casper and James. "I've got shielding and liquor." Really, anyone was welcome to join her in her hidey-hole until people stopped attempting to make human origami.





Location: Serval Industries - Training Room
Skills: Void Reach


Bobbi nodded mutely as she handed the papers back to Evelyn. She didn't need to see any more. She was having trouble quashing this feeling in her stomach. This feeling of great hope. She couldn't let herself get too excited. She smiled at Gambit and Rogue - a thin sort of watery smile.

Mere moments later Watts was his usual bossy, commandeering self. He hurried them along to the jet and Bobbi felt her stomach lurch. It wasn't just from the sudden movement to the aircraft. It was also the knowledge that this vile man had deigned to put hands on her without her express permission. If she could catch him she would have smacked him. As it stood there was no time for that. She sat down and buckled herself in, concentrating, meditating.

She wouldn't be the one to fuck up this time.






Location: Serval Industries - Training Room
Skills: Google Search


Wes took the papers from Bobbi when she handed them to Evelyn. It was a jarring experience, having a man slighter than himself move him across the compound. It must have cost Watts quite a bit of energy to move such a dense person. But it meant that Wes wouldn't have to try and sneak about with Gardner out for his blood. Without much ado, he sat himself down and began the process of pulling up what information he could and comparing what was on the papers. Unfortunately, it was not much at all. Just an image of the building from the outside really.

"Evelyn," he said softly, looking at her once she had joined them on the jet. "I've been attempting to pull some things up. Doing a piss poor job of it," he said with a small laugh. "Dunno if you're any better with the machines, got any thoughts?" He offered her the consol, turning his attention briefly to the others as they were forcefully boarded. He offered each a grin before returning his attention to what he had been doing.


Location: Outside the Eyrie




While she did not fully hear Mikhail's request to keep her away from the room where torture was to take place she understood the undertones of the whispers. She could not wrap her mind around how this many could forsake and then try to protect her is sequenced breaths. Especially since she needed no protections. It was quite presumptuous for him to assume that she would not be familiar with such things. He was quite the puzzle and one she, fortunately, did not have to figure out for now. Her attention was completely caught by Xandar as he removed his clothes without shame. A light flush touched her cheeks and she smirked. She was not ungrateful for the sight and it caused her to giggle a little. A small reprieve from her anguish.

She left the others to do as they liked. Her new goal was to prepare the funeral pyre. Jandar offered to stay with her to which she smiled her thanks and lightly touched his upper arm. Without another word she went into the nearby trees and began to pick up dried sticks for which to use as kindling. She would first gather as much as she could and then start the platform. Perhaps Xandar would have some logs cut for her by then. Fatima also began the process of pulling rocks she found suitable and lay them in a rectangle shape - help contain the flames.




Location: The Casino
Skill:




She flushed and grinned sheepishly at his comment about personal space. "Sorry, sorry. Got all excited was all." She followed them through the doors, picking up her helmet as she went and slinging it over her shoulder - the strap hooked over two fingers. "I jus' got here mah-self. Not sure where everyone is at. Ah, there." She gestured toward Jack and Casper, two people in the know. Two people she hardly knew. It was a confusing thing to look at them and have a set of memories where they did not exist. Would she ever get used to it?

Bobbi was delighted to see the affection bestowed upon Casper from a man who must have been a boyfriend or something. Good. Cute. He deserved it. Right? She pressed the butt of her palm against the side of her head in the hopes of staving off the stupid headache. She really wasn't getting used to any of this. And the lights and sound of the casino didn't help. She approached the bar and ordered her usual whiskey and coke, needing something to soothe the frayed edges of her nerves. The only person amongst the newcomers that she recognized was Wolverine. But if he was with all of them they would-be allies, right? So confusing. She downed the drink and swiftly ordered another.





Location: Serval Industries - Training Room
Skills: Void Reach


As Watt's left the room, after she had finished looking through the files Bobbi said a rare, intelligent thing. It was directed at Evelyn. And perhaps it had already been said but, Bobbi had been far too engrossed in the files to have been able to hear it. With brows knitted and her skin turned pale she asked, "How do we know these aren't a plant?"

It was impossible. It was too good of a thing for him to be alive. It would mean all the punishment she had heaped upon herself and from Watts had been for naught. All of the time she had spent feeling sorry for herself could have been spent storming this unknown castle and freeing their friend from terrible, imagined abuses.

She turned her eyes then on each in the group. They were all in it. There was no way she wasn't going to be as well. If there was a chance she could save Andrew she would do it. She just worried she would be getting her hopes up only to have them dashed. Watts was back and he had Gambit and Rogue with him. She stiffened as she always did when he entered a room, hatred coursing through her veins.






Location: Serval Industries - Training Room
Skills:


He didn't even blanche or make a face at Watts' comment. Of course, the man would be too good to accept help willingly from people he deemed beneath him. Watts was quite good at picking nerves Wesley hadn't realized he possessed. But he wasn't in this for Watts. THis was about Andrew and his failure to get to the room in time. Would it have made a difference? He shook his head, releasing these circling thoughts so he could pay attention to the now.

"I am also ready to leave," he said to Evelyn as Watts left the room. A conjoinder to the other's quips of their desire to go. "I have nothing here of true consequence." He was his own weapon. Clothes could always be bought again. Bobbi's question was something that had also danced around his mind for a short measure. Even if they were plants, there was no way he could safely remain here while Gardner was in charge. In the end, this was his only chance of getting out.
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