there’s something to be said about feeling as if your home, your safe space, is being invaded. alejandra thinks that may be happening right now (she wouldn’t know, not really — it’s not as if she’s ever had privacy in her considerably short life).
a fake avenger @godlighter sits at a grand table in a private room, both designed to offer a sense of diplomacy to outsiders in a mansion full of mutants. typically alejandra doesn’t mind being there, often shoved into the uncomfortable role of being what an outsider would call a “good mutant”. her skin crawls — she didn’t expect them here. lips pull down into a frown, “…so did they just send you to fend for yourself?” typical if they did, distaste barely concealed in her tone.
impatience runs all over her as she bounces her knee, fists clenching and unclenching as she pointedly looks at anything that isn't the only other person in the room. a heavy sigh heaves hunched shoulders up, down again. she considers ignoring what is clearly an attempt to bait her into an argument and manages to do so for all of ten seconds before she decides there's no fun in that. head whips to the side, cocked at an angle as she narrows her eyes. "what, you need a babysitter every time you're assigned a mission?" flips a lighter between her fingers for something to do with them aside from fidgeting; she refuses to give alejandra the satisfaction of seeing her nervous. "sorry my team actually trusts me to get things done on my own."
a smug grin pulls the corner of his mouth to one side as his body shifts in the blink of an eye. "who's here to keep you safe this time?"














