#punkasite

Her words are met with a soft, skeptical hum. "Who knows, maybe you both were conspiring against me then," Scott remarks with a soft chuckle. Her tone is light and playful. He knows she's lying. She's never been good at lying -- not to him at least.

@punkasite asked: Ah'll stay up with ya. Ah don't mind.

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐖

   “Y-y’ don’t have to,” David murmurs, legs pulled up to his chest. His fingers tug at the cloth of his blanket, gaze down cast. He regrets that moment of weakness. That instant when he mentioned his fear of sleep. A weird thing perhaps but there are memories of waking up to a face he doesn’t recognise, or to new wounds that weren’t there before. Here it’s a new piece of tech attached to his head. Beeping and reading and cataloguing his shards.

   For a moment he freezes. A thing of tension and anxiety and such profound discomfort. Then he takes a breath, eyes closing. He forces himself to unwind a little, legs crossing as he sits up straighter in his bed. He gives Rogue a smile, trying to reassure.

   “I’ll be fine. Really. I mean, I reckon I don’t actually need to sleep,” he says, that smile still there. It’s the smile of a boy who doesn’t know how to smile. A smile more like a warning, baring too many teeth. Threatening to bite. He doesn’t mean it. Not to Rogue.

five is sitting on the curbside . a smoke in hand , though he hasn't inhaled it in a few minutes so the ash is building along the white paper , hanging there like an admission of his own failings as a person . it was almost instant . he was fine . then he turned a corner && hit hit him . he had walked these streets before && they had been covered in dust && ash && normally he was fine , he could compartmentalize . but in this moment , he couldn't && he was left feeling like he was trying to swallow a watermelon whole .

he is only vaguely aware that @punkasite is sitting next to him .

thankfully , she didn't seem to be trying to force him to talk about it . instead , just quietly soaking up the moment .

❝ i'm assumin' that's metaphorical squeaky shoes . ❞ five comments , a brief glance down at @punkasites's very large black boots that she seems to be wearing . he then raises an eyebrow as he shifts his gaze back towards her features . ❝ but if you're looking for a clown college , i'm sure one of my idiot siblings can help you out . ❞

@punkasite a demandée “The good couch is on fire.”

"Wha....?" Remy felt a cold panic hit him. That isn't good. Did he do it? He has been sitting there last. He had been smoking. Put, he put the cigarette out in an ashtray near it. Right? Right?? "Oh fuck..." He hissed as he quickly moved past Rouge, speed walking towards the nearest bathroom, scrambling around to find a container. Hell, he didn't even know how bad the fire was. How much water would be needed.

Scott was going to murder him cause of course he'd be blamed for the couch.

"Merde!" Remy said, grabbing a random decorative bowl and filling it up with as much water he could before moving once again past Anna-Marie, the water sloshing over the edge as he speed walked towards the other living room.

And oh boy, that couch was on fire.

".....Ah....non. Non non!" He panicked, throwing the water onto the couch, but his fingers slid against the glass's surface, causing him to just toss the whole bowl onto the couch watching it shatter and not help with the fire at all.

"We.... we gotta fire extinguisher, yeah? Where... shit! Mon dieu!"

Yep, he was so dead.

"Breaking and entering implies that we don't have the key," Magneto replies, a small, clever smile spreading across his face as a hand rises and twists, seamlessly unlocking the once locked gate.

Thermal vision flickers over her form. Contrary to popular belief not all thermal signatures look the same to him and hers consist of brilliant shades of green. The distinct hues are enough for him to recognize her. The familiar southern accent just further confirms that it's her.