#instistarter

[moreweaponthangirl-archive]

Klara wipes the tears from her face quickly when she hears footsteps entering the lounge room she sat in. Without a bedroom currently, she hadn’t known where to go and so ended up here, empty at the time. The conversation with Charlotte only cemented everything she’d felt in regretting leaving, cutting deeper with rejection. What irony, that her leaving out of fear of rejection from one she loved would lead to that exact thing from another.

“Um, hi. I can.. I can leave if you need this.. this room,” she says quickly, standing up from the couch. 

[cptdeadphool]

The longer he walked, the more he felt like he was actually dying. It reminded him of the time he was in the woods saving a cool student. One that had the power to nullify powers. Like healing. That hurt like a motherfucker, but Wade made it through. Three times, he put his hand up to his head to make sure nothing was in it. The fourth time, he accidentally walked into a side table and stumbled. Anyone else might think he’s drunk.

“Fucking hell, what is happening in here?” he laughed and looked around the room for anyone to interact with. For now, he’d try to ignore the pain.

[shadowxdflame-archive]

Despite the bright day outside, it’s dark in the training room. Even the windows can’t bring light into the room, not with Reyna practicing her shadow manipulation. What little light can penetrate is purple in colour, coming from the small fires that appear from her hands. As a target pops up, the flame flies across the room to ignite it, just as Reyna hears the door open.

“I’m a little busy,” she tells them. It’s then that she feels something. A... presence? Energy? Someone using their powers? She’s not sure. She turns to the other person, hands alight with flame. 

“Whatever you’re doing, would you stop?”

[salvajitax]

Laura had thought no one frequented the study hall, but when she got here there were several people scattered around the room. All at different tables, leaving only one open and there was no way in hell she was sharing a table with someone. No one needed to see what her work looked like. It was stupid that she was taking classes anyway, she was old enough to be done with fucking college and here she was taking math a twelve year old could ace. But for her... It looked like gibberish. It wasn’t like they were concerned with her academic advancement at The Facility and she went straight from there to being an assassin. And her other unsavory professions didn’t beg for a degree either. 

She scratches the back of her neck anxiously as she peers down at the scribble of numbers and symbols that she’d taken down for notes. “Fuck...” she mutters to herself and slumps back. “Can’t I just get a degree in killing people?” 

[pyrotxchnicality]

“I know this place is like, ideal for orphans,” she says, to no one in particular, as she stares up at the ceiling. She’s tossing a tennis ball and catching as she lays in the middle of the common room floor. “Like, your parents hate you? Welcome to Xavier’s. They dead? Welcome to Xavier’s. You’re twenty-something and got no place to live? Welcome to Xavier’s.” The ball hits her on the face and she screeches before turning onto her stomach to roll it around instead. “Anyway, like I was saying, this place is for orphans and there aren’t a lot of rules, which is great you know? There’s the no killing people, unless you’re Logan or Laura. Or Pietro. Or Star. There’s no destroying the place, unless you’re a Summers brother.” 

She lists these all off with her free hand, starting over again when she runs out of fingers for points. “And there’s especially no boinking the Prof’s daughter...unless you’re a Summers brother.” She squints, “Favoritism here is real. Anyway.” She sits up and tosses the ball to whoever is listening. “This place is for orphans, right? So why is it so goddamn boring during the holidays?”

[vampyrsluck]

Awhile back, Felix was walking around minding their own business when they realized something wasn’t right. They’d stepped into a time that should have been over about one hundred and forty years ago. During those lost few months, they came across a man claiming he wanted to help mutants like Felix. They took the man’s offer, because there was no other choice at the time, and came to be friends with the telepath. Somewhere along that friendship, they both realized they could use Felix’s ability to slip through time to their advantage. That’s why the vampire showed up here at the Institute in 2018 six months ago.

Now, Felix was sitting around laughing at himself because why on earth would anyone at this age go back to school? It was a calculated move, but still it was a ridiculous thought. Sighing after finishing homework in the lounge, Felix looked around at the other people and picked a target for conversation. “Hey, have we met before?”

[svnthezoid]

The coordinates were in his head.

They blinked like flashing lights as he sat on the train, the sixteenth one he’d been on in the past few days. Before then there was a bus. A few planes. He walked, ran, hitchhiked. All the while, the same coordinates sat at the forefront of his mind. He didn’t really have to ask for help, but when he did his voice sounded different from these people’s. This wasn’t his home, he didn’t know where home was. Maybe home was calling to him, so he went.

If this was his home, he might be fucking rich. 

He stares up at the mansion with his brows raised, scratching the itchy hair growing on his cheeks and jaw. Did he usually shave? He can’t remember. There’s heavy foot traffic around him, mostly young people, but he doesn’t stop anyone. They were carrying books and bags, some were sitting under trees with their noses in said books like they were... studying. “This is a school,” he says definitively, looking back up at the front door with renewed purpose then he slowly frowns. “This is a... school?”

[mistressxfmagnetism-archive]

1878

Lorna had had green hair longer than she could remember. It simply grew that way. As a child, she’d sometimes tried to cover it with coal or kohl or even shoe polish. But she’d grown tired of it, and typically simply covered her hair these days with a silk bonnet that tucked it away. 

Typically that worked. Typically, her bonnet didn’t get caught and pulled from her head, revealing her hair. She could feel eyes on her (if only they knew what she could actually do) and she quickly shot them a hard look. “Yes?”