Setting: The attic room of Jean Grey. Xavier's mansion. The evening of Jean's most recent disappearance. On the desk, replacing Jean's usual journal and coffee setup, is a light floral printed carpet bag.
::Exhausted by her run in with the Snow Queen, and other assorted mansion residents, Tara had retreated to the relative peace of Jean's room. As it had been made more then abundantly clear that she was not free to leave until Jean returned in one peace. She had changed into a tank top and pair of jammie pants, all the while acutely aware of Jean's absence. Hopefully she would return from her healing journey. Soon. Sliding under the covers, Tara turned off the light, and was soon asleep, exhausted by the outpouring of magickal and emotional energy through the course of the day. Her last words before sleep overtook her were "Thank the Goddess it's over..."::
If someone had ever bothered to compare the mother against the daughter, the term one would probably use is "Harsher" They feel same, in most regards, no reason anyoen woudl be disturbed or believe that the red head that slipped into teh room isn't Jean...until one noticed that this one seemed just a little...darker. Honed perhaps.
But that was hard for most to do when asleep.
So, Rachel probably didn't wake her up.
IN fact, she slipped over to the bed, flame licking gently along her skin and simply stared for a moment. This woman...wans't Jean. And wasn't anyone she knew as an X-man. THerefore...an intuder perhaps? Or a guest?
One way to find out.
She floated gently above the bed, hair falling to tickle the strangers face, face inches away from hers and tattoo scrawling flame...and grinned "Where. Is. Jean?" she asked pointedly, probably loudly, and not in the least sorry for waking up a stranger.
::Tara's eyes flew open at the sound of the other woman's voice. In her half asleep state the first thing to register was the flames. Very close to her skin. Too close. And the trailing hair almost felt like the insects that had once crawled over every inch of her body... She reared up, arms flailing.::
No! P-p-please! No!
::Her breath came in harsh pants as she fumbled, trying to find the lamp. To prove that this was no dream. No reality. Unable to find the lamp switch, she waved a hand through the air, whispering a few words in latin, creating a dimly glowing arc that hung in the air. She curled her legs tight against her chest, arms wrapped around them protectively.::
If she had any cat like tendencies, Rachel would have hissed at the display of magic. Unfortunately, she wasn't a cat. She was a Phoenix.
Wings of flame spread from the moment the girl's fingers moved arcanely and Rachel reared back, hovering at the foot of the bed and resisting teh urge to tear the woman apart.
"This isn't your bed." she managed at last, the words low and almost rage filled. Naturally she ignored the girls questions.
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But that was hard for most to do when asleep.
So, Rachel probably didn't wake her up.
IN fact, she slipped over to the bed, flame licking gently along her skin and simply stared for a moment. This woman...wans't Jean. And wasn't anyone she knew as an X-man. THerefore...an intuder perhaps? Or a guest?
One way to find out.
She floated gently above the bed, hair falling to tickle the strangers face, face inches away from hers and tattoo scrawling flame...and grinned "Where. Is. Jean?" she asked pointedly, probably loudly, and not in the least sorry for waking up a stranger.
Reply
No! P-p-please! No!
::Her breath came in harsh pants as she fumbled, trying to find the lamp. To prove that this was no dream. No reality. Unable to find the lamp switch, she waved a hand through the air, whispering a few words in latin, creating a dimly glowing arc that hung in the air. She curled her legs tight against her chest, arms wrapped around them protectively.::
Wh-wh-who are y-you...?
Reply
Wings of flame spread from the moment the girl's fingers moved arcanely and Rachel reared back, hovering at the foot of the bed and resisting teh urge to tear the woman apart.
"This isn't your bed." she managed at last, the words low and almost rage filled. Naturally she ignored the girls questions.
Reply
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