#startersuopen

[lost-summers]

Happy alpha-mas

"I’m no chef but... are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

[arcanum-ego]

BARGAIN, n; negotiate terms of agreement || open

Stephen’s hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and he didn’t know what to do to even begin to still them. It wasn’t the usual brand brought on by stress or fatigue or overuse, even if all those conditions were well met by now. In his frustration he’d moved away from the crowd to try and find somewhere he could quiet his mind, starting down a largely deserted corridor as he held his hands in front of them, every nerve on fire as he struggled to flex and relax the muscles.

Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.

Piece by piece the brick and mortar of the bunker hall started to peel away, crumbling into threads of debris to be pulled into oblivion. Stephen froze, his heart pounding in his ears, doomed only to watch as the grasping purple smoke and eldritch tendrils kept peeling away his handle on reality. He took a step back and struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.

The air was thick with aether as he pulled it almost unconsciously to him, bolstering wards that didn’t exist or never fully formed, not completely. It was enough to choke the magically adept, enough even to send the hair on the back of anyone else’s necks to standing, like the electricity before a storm. What it lacked in intention it made up for in potency, like his novice self reborn with his current mystic supremacy.

Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.

A single, grounding touch was all it took for the aether in the air to dissipate almost as quickly as it’d been summoned, and Stephen whirled to grab the person who’d tagged his sleeve, trying to push them back down the hall. “Don’t. You can’t, it’s--”

You’ve come to die.

The tumbling words stopped abruptly as he whirled his attention to the corridor -- the dim, dank, and thoroughly mundane corridor. Stephen turned fully to face it with wild eyes as his chest heaved in an effort to catch his breath, body stock-still except for his hands in fists, tremoring violently at his sides.

[alwavslast-blog]

the schools track was kinda boring to run around but today, tommy felt the need for some form of uniformity in the shape of running in circles around a small track. there wasn’t much at the university that interested tommy, he barely got out of bed to go to classes and even then his mind wasn’t exactly paying attention to the tedious things professors wanted from their students. he was more interested in doing something, something with his powers, anything fast - standing still was almost like agony to him. as he rounded the corner, he noticed someone getting onto the track - his curious nature made him want to stop and talk ( annoy ) them. “ wanna race ?? “ tommy yelled out with a smirk as he stopped in front of them. 

[lost-summers]

It’s been an hour since the last scream, yelling match or stabbing. All is quiet as people are finally settled or, it was the calm before the storm. Either way Scott’s grateful. Head tips back against the cold concrete. He’s sat in the corner on a dusty hard floor because all the beds are taken but he’s not fussy. Eyes shut preparing to catch some much needed rest until - Scott’s gaze darts up with a look somewhere between surprise and alarm - he only ever heard stomach rumbles like that from Bobby after a few long hours in the danger room.  

He reaches into his pocket, holds up a protein bar. “Please, for all our sakes, feed the beast.”

[redhotxredhead-blog]

Bottles under the bed, the smell of alcohol in the air. The aftermath of a party or the distant memory? Both. Both is right. Her head spins as she stares at that bottle, the culprit who broke a vow. He lays there on the floor, and one more in the hand. He stares at her, tells her that she couldn’t do it. She knew that, but it hurts to hear.

She can’t feel the pain of it anymore as she screws the cap back on and drops the half empty bottle to her bedside. Someone speaks, says that they are leaving. Again she’s alone.

Alone.

She likes it that way, less stress. She’s happy. Music fills the room, and her heart can’t be heard thumping over the sound of the piano and guitar. One beer got her here. One simple drink, one sip of something that doesn’t even taste like it’s safe to drink. It crushed the ideal.

She’s happier this way, smiling even, as she sings along to the words that play over the speaker of her phone--just loud enough for her room to hear.

“Now you're free to be the lonely life of the party. Go, you'll see, but let's get one thing straight. You're gonna regret you left me.”

[quexnside-blog]

[ outfit ] [ dare here ]

Standing in line for her coffee, she tried to ignore the stares but my god did they really need to think so loud? With a fake pleasant smile plastered on she made her order and quickly stood back. The tapping of her heel drowned out by the noise. “If you say a word about how I look like a bloody glowstick I will turn your brain to mush.”

[a-blonde-with-batons-blog]

“So... I may have stayed up until 4 reading a new biology essay. I feel like this is my version of senior slide, to avoid actual homework and read up on much more interesting, complex things,” Bobbi said, emerging from the lounge in one of the university buildings. “What time is it? And, what day is it?” she asked, peering out one of the windows in the hallway. “Staying up late always makes me feel like I entered a black hole and who knows where I’ll come out?” she laughed at her own joke. 

[quexnside-blog]

The skates dangled from her bag, running shoes in place. It was just early enough that the world was still quite. Still peaceful. In mere moments campus would become once again the center of her living telepathic hell but for now? It was perfect. she hadn’t ice skated in years, each time digging up memories she wanted to bury for good.  It appeared she wasn’t the only one who had the idea. Well, she supposed it was only natural. “I guess it was too much to ask to find this place completely abandoned. Do you mind?”