#blxckcanarycry

[sniktcd]

@blxckcanarycry

It was rare that Laura invited friends to visit her at Xavier’s Mansion, but Dinah was special. She deserved to see where she lived, and truthfully, Laura trusted her among the mutants. The grand majority were unaware of her identity as the Black Canary, but the students ran up to Dinah nonetheless, curious about the woman that Laura had invited into their home. It had taken years to gain trust around the school, Laura’s reputation as X-23 had followed her for a long time, but now that she had, the changes were obvious. She valued the attention, but she also valued time with her friend. Eventually, Laura arrived at her room and escorted Dinah inside, grateful for privacy.

“This is my home,” she informed Dinah with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, and it isn’t technically my own, but I’m grateful to be here.” Dinah still wasn’t aware of Laura’s exact background, though she knew that eventually, she would have to share the truth with her friend. She wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, Dinah was trusted, important, but Laura struggled to mention the Facility to anyone. Now that she was attempting to weaken the trigger scent’s effects (eradicate them entirely through poisoning herself), it was even more unavoidable. Her healing factor was immense, but she doubted it could erase the traces of exhaustion that would come once she began the process. “What do you think?”

[sniktcd]

@blxckcanarycry

Doom’s party wasn’t an event that Laura was interested in attending, largely because she didn’t trust President Doom. If he was hosting a celebration of New York City’s victories, Laura assumed that something absolutely horrific would happen. Perhaps that was pessimistic, but President Doom had not earned any of her faith, and neither had the American government. It took a certain kind of person to head such a corrupt organization and she had no doubt that President Doom had done so with cruelty and deceit. Her worries aside, however, Laura did intend to protect her friends. Many of them would be attending the party, she knew, and Dinah had personally asked Laura to be her date. It her loyalty to Dinah and the friends she had made in New York that forced Laura to dress nicely and meet Dinah outside the Empire State Building, only looking slightly irritated.

When she approached her friend, Laura looked over Dinah and nodded in appreciation. “You look nice,” she told her honestly. It was what people she had gone on dates with in the past had said, and while Laura rarely returned the sentiment, Dinah had earned the praise. “Are you excited to attend the party? I’m looking forward to the food, I hope it’ll be decent.” It was obvious that this wasn’t her usual social gathering — it was far less bloody — but for Dinah, she would try.

[cassandrabctgirl]

@blxckcanarycry

The hits are hard, and fast, and brutal. Matched skill to skill, every flurry of blows is followed by parries and spins and return hits. They know a certain grace, a dance choreographed from muscle memory and instinct. Blows were swooping and kicks arcing, everything matched and returned with fluid grace. Like ballet.

For a moment, she felt like she did before learning understanding, when she read every move of every body clear as day, and could see the next moment before it happened. Her fighting then had been perfect, and now she reached close to that, in perfect synchronicity with Dinah.

And then, as quickly as the clarity arrived, it left again. Cassandra faltered in reading Dinah’s body language; the words and thoughts of words coming to crowd out the once easy prediction of movement. Dinah landed a hit, full force, to Cassandra’s side, more likely than not expecting her to see it coming and block it. But she didn’t. Stumbling backwards, she raised her hand in motion to pause the sparring, letting herself cough once, twice, before taking a deep breath and  stifling the punched out feeling of emptiness in her chest. She remained upright, but hunched, then stood fully, brushing nimble fingers through damp hair.

“Lost focus.” Her expression is clearly annoyed. She wasn’t sure how to stop that- all the thoughts crowding in and distracting her. “Again?”