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The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

We are currently accepting Site-Canons and Originals



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 No, you can't die from insomnia, +tag David
WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 11 2016, 11:38 PM
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Teleportation. It hadn't been a smart idea to push her powers into areas this off her usual go-to for conjuration and this was very much going to mark the last time. Winona hadn't felt normal for three days. Food was out of the question. Just smelling it made her nose wrinkle. At the very most she was taking in weak tea and begrudged sips of water and nursing a box of saltines. Truthfully, her main obstacle was the sleeping. Using her powers always had the effect of making her have terrible narcoleptic episodes where she would rip-van-Winona her way through seventeen plus hours and never blink an eye at the downtime. This time however, things had taken the opposite toll. She wanted sleep. Desperately, passionately, with every cell in her being, and aside from small one to two hour stretches it had been a slice of relief well away from her grasp.

Fellow teammates hadn't made the effort any easier. Everyone that resided in the firehouse had a varied schedule so it really didn't matter when she tried to lay her head down. The din of stomping feet, doors and conversations easily consumed twenty plus hours of the day and it was the slamming of a door that had eventually broken her promise to do something that she'd sworn to herself she'd never do; Take up her late friend's ancient offer to use her Penthouse as a respite from the base of operations. With her burn bag pulled out from under her bed, and her timing to get downstairs made in record speed and stealth, Winona Maximoff was sliding into Stark's dark and long unoccupied office to use the transport pad.

Fingers punched in her clearance codes. Eyes lingered for a moment on the LED display board that was asking for her destination input with a blinking green cursor. As far as she knew, most of the team was only aware of the destination pads that were in The Wreck Room and the hanger that housed the Q-Jet. She was sure that Antigone had more than just the third and fourth options for her personal home and ARC industries, but that was irrelevant, at least for now. three little words. that was all it took.
    [location_ stark, antigone//penthouse]
And with that she was engulfed with the all too familiar light as the pad beneath her feet kicked to life to take her where she could have some goddamn peace and quiet.

Unlike the Wreck Room, there was no welcoming voice to greet her when she manifested inside the downtown building. The Penthouse too, like the office was dark and abandon of activity. She was sure that the automated lights that began to kick on were just Antigone's way of conserving the energy bill. Winona had only been inside this place once before, and then she hadn't arrived by way of transporter. She and Stark had stopped at her place some months before the attack on the city so that Antigone could pick up some experiment she'd left running. Then the visit had been brief and unexceptional. This time however, Winona really took her time as she padded through the vast penthouse to look over the perks of being a kid born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

All in all it was an impressive apartment. The living room was wide and open to the attached kitchen and dining area. The master bedroom was gigantic and had its own private bathroom. And if she wasn't mistaken, there was a secondary lab and a guest bedroom down past the personal gymnasium. Winona tossed her knapsack of overnight clothes and accoutrements onto the king sized bed and passed her way into the bathroom to draw a bath. While she waited for the huge clawfoot tub to fill with water she stripped off her clothes and pinned her hair (as best she could) up and off her face. The water was hotter than she needed to truly relax, but it was her hope that the warmth, solitude, and utterly blissful silence to be the perfect medicine to help her relax and get at least eight hours of shuteye.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: May 23 2016, 11:09 PM
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Days passed. Weeks, maybe. David’s concept of time was lost in the tormenting silence now haunting him. It was eating away at his sanity more than the anguished thoughts reeling in his head like a bad film stuck on loop. At first the Voice had been so loud that he imagined he might go deaf. It spoke in a reverberating cacophony, echoing at the back of his skull and setting ablaze to every neuron firing inside of him. He was fed reminders of his misery daily; a sharp alto that chipped at his resolve like a hammer. It sang to him an anthem of failure and projected memories of every instance where he let his friends down. His parents, the Wolverine, Winona…Tig. Eventually he drowned it out with whiskey and vodka. He found quiet solace in cheap, mindless company for the night. So long as he didn’t think - not even for one second - about anything other than the moment he was living, David was left alone. He became a zombie with a pulse; able to speak, but not be heard. Able to criticize, but not reflect. A man of the Summers lineage was reduced to nothing but a disastrous husk.

But the silence - that was new.

David dared to remember in short bursts. A second here, a minute there; eventually hours and days came back to him. Each time he challenged himself to think a little further back, but was hesitant. He knew it was a trick…a trap meant to ensnare him right when his guard was taken down. But he found that the more he provoked, the less was received, until finally he resigned to an uneasy peace. David walked about the firehouse a little more. Talked to his friends in short, dismissive sentences. He endeavored a presumption that the Voice was bored with him and returned to Its cage somewhere. But he was wrong. In his sleep It returned, stronger and laughing. He awoke in blankets of cold sweat, chest heaving for breath he couldn’t find. Again, though, there was silence. A mirky stillness in his head that reasoned a nightmare was to blame. So David drank and ushered himself to a depth he thought was the closest he could come to being in a coma. When his eyes shut, It roared.

Summers wasn’t sure when he’d slept last. That, too, was now lost in time he had no measure for. He retreated away from the firehouse - perhaps out of concern for his friends - perhaps as a means for solitude. Basic instincts drove him out to the streets and through the alleyways of Chicago. He didn’t know to where, but his body moved in dissension and without objection. Once more he was the prodigy of the Wolverine. An animal. And like any wounded animal, he learned, he was finding his place to die.

When the golden haze of bourbon cleared, David could hardly open his eyes. Everything inside of him ached. His very heartbeat felt like a hundred needles stabbing at his temples. Groaning his way to a bathroom somewhere, he evacuated the burning contents of his stomach and passed out again and again. When he woke up, things were no different. He could see very little of his environment, but the cold marble against his hands and feet welcomed the weight of his body when he moved. To say that crawling took effort was an understatement. Before David could cross the threshold, he was back in front of the porcelain.

A sound stirred him awake. The fallen mutant didn’t know what it was or where it came from; the noise barely registered at all. He blinked until one eye found some clarity. Moving was a little bit easier, but not without labored breaths. David stumbled from the bathroom and finally saw a bedroom he had no recollection of. It smelled rancid and of rot, but he knew that was only himself - beyond that there was more, like lavender or rose. The bed dressings were disheveled and pushed to the floor, hanging off the corners of what looked like a king size mattress. The more he stumbled about the more he thought that he’d broken into a hotel somewhere downtown. It seemed unlikely, but there wasn’t another explanation he could muster. The hallway was vast and looked endless; it was decorated, but with what was indiscernible.

At some point, David trudged his way toward a larger bedroom. “D’fuck am I?” Lights were on in here, scorching at his eyes like the sun had been turned on inside the lodging. He heard water running and felt the air grow warmer as he neared another bathroom. Wherever he was, David knew he was screwed. Escape was going to be impossible for another few hours unless someone drove a stick of adrenaline directly into his chest. He squinted across the doorway and saw the shape of a woman as she descended into a deep bathtub, lost beneath soapy, salty waters pouring from the faucet. Like a telescope, he narrowed his eyes on her until his vision became just crisp enough to place the haircut and closed eyes. “Oh shit…”

David all but dove backward, attempting to disappear from view in the doorway. Without semblance of coordination, his body slammed against a table and knocked its contents off with force. Something shattered, something sparked. The room became dimmer as he once more rose to his feet and raced toward the hallway.

He was right. He was screwed. Escape was impossible.

Stopping somewhere short of a kitchen, Summers paused for breath. His weight leaned heavy against the wall. There was nothing left in his stomach to empty, but he sure felt his body threatening to try.“Fuck!”
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 24 2016, 03:59 AM
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VERVE

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The tension in her body was in fact loosening up as the warmth took hold. The white noise coming from the faucet had masked the footfalls of another body within the Penthouse. she'd ducked under the water when the lamp had been kicked over too, otherwise that would have made quick, her reaction to get out of the tub and make a defensive stance. But it was the human instinct to sense proximity alerts that had her stirring to action. Hands ran over her face as she sat up in the water. Winona reached to shut off the stream and listen for auditory clues that she was jumping to conclusions. At first all she heard was the drip of residual moisture off the brass fixture. The sound of her breath. The drag of water against her limbs as she turned at the middle to look behind her toward the dark crack of doorway that led into the bedroom.

'Was there someone there? Had that been movement within the shadows? Was this just another side effect of sleep deprivation?' Winona wanted desperately to shove off the feeling of being watched until it dawned on her that the bedroom she'd come out of hadn't been dark. Unless the automated system had turned off the lights in her absence, someone had been in there recently enough to turn off the lamp and cover his or her retreat... or worse sustaining presence. Fatigue and relaxation was quickly being drowned with adrenal self preservation. Hands gripped at the curve of Antigone's porcelain-covered pressed-steel tub. Fingers felt out the change of smooth white enamel as they transitioned the curve. The slight scrape of her nails against the untreated side was more than enough to get the shivers down her spine. At this point, every action felt exaggerated, loud, obvious.

The best case scenario was that she was either jumping at ghosts manifested by her tired mind or that Stanley Osborne was in town looking to meet up with the ex. Winona was pretty sure the real news of Antigone's death hadn't been shared with anyone outside the team. It was conjecture, and mighty thin conjecture at that. She has virtually no evidence that Stan was back in town or that he'd even come here instead of the Firehouse, but it was just her way to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. In this case the worst would be a break in or a contract killer out to finish wiping the name Stark off the map. Little would they know the thing walking around in Antigone's likeness was just a facsimile of the real deal.

Hooking her leg over the side, Maximoff stepped out of the tub and onto the small plush bathmat as not to drip water all over the floor. Gently she pulled an oversized towel from the rack and pulled it around herself. She hadn't thought to bring her sidearm with her before leaving the Firehouse and aide from the electric toothbrush and a small hand mirror there wasn't much else in the bathroom that she could see on visual glance alone that could serve as a viable weapon. She had to get herself to the kitchen as quickly and as soundlessly as possible. Casting wasn't an option. She needed to speak for that to happen and she needed to be as silent as the grave.

Bare feet flexed and padded across the tiles as she neared the ajar door. Teeth grimaced white as she pushed it wider to have a look into the bedroom. The lamp had been knocked off the table, broken. Her burn bag looked untouched. 'Great, your underwear and jeans are safe. Now get to the damn kitchen and get a knife or something.' Crossing through the dark room, Winona again took care before exiting out into the hallway. She reversed her original course and took off with a light sprint toward where she remembered. The layout wasn't terribly confusing, but in the dim near-dark it felt like something out of Wes Craven's handbook. The mind was quick to misinterpret a lumpy piece of furniture for a crouched target, every noise was the groan of a professional merc out for his thirty pieces of silver.

Breath again puffed out as she reached the still and silent kitchen with its overflow of gadgetry and modern conveniences. She wrapped her hand around the first (and biggest) knife in the butcher's block without breaking pace. the metal rang out as if to warn her ears of its razor edge. She'd make sure that this place was secure one room at a time. And if by some odd chance, Antigone (or her robotic stand in) had gone and bought a cat, this was going to be one very embarrassing footnote in her diary. She gave the kitchen an all-clear check and moved onto the other rooms she'd yet traversed. Strafing toward the office and Stark's personal gym, Winona gripped the knife loosely in her hand and walked with the grace of a ninja. Both the office and the gym were empty. So the only other option was the guest room or rechecking where she'd been.

That's when she heard the creak of floorboards.

Knife tucked up against her arm. She was off on a swift run at the direction of the din. The front hall, which led either to the guest room or the front door. Whoever this was, they were not going to just slip away into the night without first answering some questions. Preferably without a knife sticking out of a vital organ; but she wasn't gonna get picky on the details. Winona drew breath at the outline of someone. Swift as an arrow she came up from behind the shadowed figure, brought the knife around to press against his throat while simultaneously holding his head with a fistful of hair. "Not another step, or I paint the walls. Got it?" She wasn't yelling, but her hushed threat was spoken against the tall figure's ear. Unless he was deaf, he heard her alright. "Explain. Now."
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Jun 6 2016, 10:02 PM
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Sobriety returned when the cold lick of steel kissed at his jugular. David’s chest was heaving for a breath he couldn’t catch; for a moment he genuinely believed this is how he would die. Words failed him, stuck in a swell of excuses he couldn’t choke out past the blade. His eyes darted around the room he’d escape to, trying to piece together what he thought his plan for egress might have been. If he were being honest with himself, now being such a time for it, Summers had no clue why he had even run back to the bedroom in the first place. There hadn’t been a sober thought in his mind until just now - and the situation had run far beyond subtle evasion.

Winona’s grip tightened around his neck, bringing David back to reality. He realized the gravity of the predicament, but instead of reacting in his normal physical and violent fashion, he simply threw his arms up to either side and admitted his arrest. Even then the knife only barely withdrew, but it was enough for him to spit up a hoarse confession.

“It’s me…” Berserker said in a meager whisper, “Jesus. Winona, it’s me.”

The blade retreated immediately and he was jolted forward by a violent shove, practically knocking him over the corner of the bed. David managed to catch himself, but his legs failed beneath the weight of his body. He crashed down to one knee, coughing and rubbing at his throat. He quickly swallowed as much air as he could, drinking it in like it was whiskey during prohibition. After a minute or so he compelled his sore, disorderly body back up and hesitantly turned, facing his familiar. It just so happened that Winona chose that very same second to switch on the lights.

An explosion of pain seared behind his eyes as the incandescence flickered on. “Ow-Fuck me! Jesus.” David recoiled and his hands instinctually pulled up to shield his face. In a normal setting, the same lights were probably an enjoyable medium of illumination and shadow, but right now it was the same measure as a grenade explosion from two feet away. “Goddamn it, Winona. Turn’em off, turn’em off.”

Thankfully, Verve complied - perhaps still startled by the ordeal, or maybe pitying his current state. Frankly, David was surprised she didn’t turn the lights up brighter. She wouldn’t have been off base to do so, he deserved the punishment. But whatever consequences were merited, it could wait until he blinked away the floaters drifting across his vision.

“You’ve been working on your chokehold, ay?” He laughed only to defuse the situation, but it met resounding silence. Finally, Winona’s form was coming back into view and he could stand to face her again. “Wh-where the hell are we anyway?”
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Jun 13 2016, 02:56 AM
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VERVE

LIBRARIAN TWENTY EIGHT She/Her 534 POSTS
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Close quarters with the intruder had made the towel had loosen at the twist along her side. It would need adjusting if she didn't want to flash the room her goods. It was low on her list of priorities next to taking down this unknown intruder. But it didn't take her long to realize he wasn't a threat to national security or her late teammate's home. It was David 'god almighty why did he have such impeccable timing' Summers. And boy howdy did he reek of booze and bad decisions. She lowered the knife from his throat, released her death grip in his hair and shoved him away from her. Deftly she caught the edge of towel in her hand before it came fully apart and set the kitchen implement down on the small table by the door. While he spewed off obscenities she reaffirmed her 'garment' and snapped on the light to fully take in his state of being.

It didn't take but a second to see that he was; A. three sheets to the wind and B. not at all happy about the burn of illumination in his face. Breath sighed out as the took pity on the lad and turned the light back off. "You're in Antigone's penthouse you idiot. God! how much have you had to drink? And why?!" She wasn't giving him much time to answer her as she stormed back toward the bedroom to throw something more substantial onto herself. While she walked, or rather stomped, back through the house, Winona was snapping off any and every light that was in her path. Not as much for David's sake now as for her own. Getting caught in her birthday suit, or even something close to her birthday suit was out of the question no matter how much the idea of naked time with Serk held her imagination.

Keeping one hand at the towel, she rummaged at her belongings to come up with the pajama pants that she'd put into her overnight bag. Backside flopped onto the mattress as she moved to pull them up over damp skin. "You scared the hell out of me David. I was about thirty seconds from slitting your throat. You mind telling me why you've decided to drink yourself into a blind stupor or why you've got yourself holed up in here without rhyme or recognition?" Ugh the feeling of wet skin and clothing was awful, but there was no time to dry off properly and deal with the drunk telekinetic at the same time. Form bent at the middle to retrieve the t-shirt and throw it over her head (and the towel) to reserve some modesty. This too decided to stick to her in odd and obvious places but it sure beat the alternative.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Jul 3 2016, 10:30 PM
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“Antigone’s…penthouse?” David stared blankly around the guest bedroom, blinking as though the words had dispelled an illusion around him. He felt his senses returning, though there were still so many questions he couldn’t answer. For one, David couldn’t recall having ever been invited inside their departed leader’s home - so how was it he managed to get here? “Jesus. I knew she was rich, but…” Glancing out the door and down the lavish hallway, the penthouse suddenly felt more like an ivory mausoleum stuck in time. For a moment, he swore he could smell Tig. Hear her coming down that same hall to berate them for the intrusion and perversion of the one place she kept discrete outside their firehouse. “Jesus.”

Winona’s questions fell by the wayside, lost to deaf ears and her sudden exit. She left the room so fast that David was almost knocked over by the rushing air in her wake. He stumbled to the doorway in haphazard pursuit, but fell short at the threshold. The lights were turning off in blinking clicks, one by one. His head was relieved, but every other part of him clutched to the door frame so he wouldn’t fall. “I…I think I was over served.” David snickered to himself while he fumbled through the entranceway, keeping his weight to the furthest wall. “T’be honest, thought I woke up in some hotel.”

By the time he managed to make it to the master bedroom, Winona was already dressed and beginning a fresh assault on his ears. David winced, but made no effort to stop her. Instead, he slumped to the floor with his back leaned against the wall. Insults and comebacks whirled danced on his tongue to combat Verve’s interrogation, but he relented. Hungover and still a touch sick, David didn’t have the energy to fight back. And worse, he knew he couldn’t. Like a dog that shit on the carpet, he tucked his head down and his eyes fell to the ground.

“I fucked up, Nona. I…I’m fucked up, kay? I get it.” Admission of guilt wasn’t something he confessed…well, at all. Usually. He didn’t want her to yell anymore, but a greater part of him needed the scolding punishment. David had already beat himself into inebriation, he needed someone else to knock him out. He deserved that much and he wanted it over now. It made sense that the person to hold the whip in this case was Winona. But when she stopped he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have the words to continue what he wanted her to know.

Through the dark he squinted where she stood. Winona’s figure was masked by shadows, but she was tall above him right now and he wanted her to keep at it. “You look good. I mean, it’s dark as shit right now…but I think you look good. Wait, what…what’re you doing here?”
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Jul 9 2016, 01:35 AM
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VERVE

LIBRARIAN TWENTY EIGHT She/Her 534 POSTS
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"Are you actually trying to deflect by hitting on me?" Arms that were folded across her chest loosened to gesture wide and exaggerated motions at the hungover (and likely still drunk) team leader. "I don't look any different. Aside from being being wet, I look exactly the same as I always do! Maybe with the bonus of being really spun out... but I'm not exactly a head turner tonight, so you can save the stripper pick up lines for the next girl." Breath sighed out from her nose as she bit back the string of other bits she wanted to yell at the guy. He was just too damn pathetic and vulnerable to want to keep kicking him while he was down.

Bending to one knee, so he didn't have to crane his head up anymore, Winona cooled her jets. The guy had clearly done this damage to himself for a reason and if he didn't want to pour out his woes she wasn't going to force it until he was cleaned up and sober. Pushing for answers in a heart to heart while he was in this state felt too much like emotional date rape for her. Instead she did as she would for anyone who needed it, she took on the role of a friend. "Come on, get up." Arms reached out to tuck around his torso and under his armpits so she could help him to his feet. " You need to wash off the stink of whatever you drank and by my guess vomited up in Stark's guest bathroom."

Christ almighty was he heavy. Getting him to his feet felt like lifting a dead body. He was leaning too hard at her and she was red faced and breathing huffily to keep him balanced and upright But upright he eventually became and with a brief pause to shift positions so that she could support his swaying frame and walk him toward the bath that had been intended for herself, Winona escorted the broken lad through the still illuminated master bathroom. "Easy now..." Her words were softened as they neared the only seating of the toilet so she could get him to sit down. Hands ran through her hair as she let him go and moved to sit cross legged on the floor in front of him to start working the laces of his boots.

"So what's it gonna be? Do I hose you down in the shower or can you keep from slipping under the water in the tub?" Teeth flashed pearly whites at the effort to pull off shoe number one. Maximoff remained mindful not to look up at him. Eye contact with Summers never really was her strong suit. It made too many of her wires go apeshit with mixed messages and tongue tied trip ups. So dutifully, she pulled at the knots on shoe number two, this one unfortunately was wet and giving her a harder time than the other.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Nov 16 2016, 06:23 PM
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" 'm not hitting on you..." His vision blurred a little bit and the lines on the tile floor started to spin. David blinked it away and looked back up at Winona for a minute. Her comments about pick up lines for strippers made Summers smile despite the pounding in his head. "C'mon. You're better looking than any stripper I've ever hit on." She was clearly agitated at him. And while he knew there were several reasons presenting themselves, he just wished they'd present themselves quieter. But now she'd stopped and Nona was down on one knee and was trying to help him up.

Summers wasn't sure why she stopped yelling and was helping him up, but the next thing he knew, David was being pulled to his feet. His body wasn't exactly responding to all of the mental controls that he was hoping for. And he was very much like dead weight for a little bit, but then she got him standing and he got an arm around her. It took a bit of struggling for her to get him upright, but now it seemed that the least he could do was try to stay upright for her. His head lolled over to her shoulder for a moment and he smelled her hair as it came closer to him.

"Mm. You smell pretty. I like it."

David sat down on the toilet with her help. "Yeah. I'm being easy. I'm not falling. We're good." He leaned back against the toilet tank and let her work on his boots while he took a few moments to reorient himself. Not for the first time tonight, he was trying to will himself back to sobriety. Nona had been gentle with him and it really had helped with the spinning there for a few minutes. He let her work the laces on the boot and when he felt the first one pop off, he smiled and wiggled his toes on the free foot.

"Shower. Don't think I could do a bath without going for a swim. I think it would end badly."
At least he was sober enough to know that limitation. That was something. "Ugh... I know I said this before, but I fucked up, Nona. I really did."
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Nov 18 2016, 04:25 AM
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VERVE

LIBRARIAN TWENTY EIGHT She/Her 534 POSTS
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It was hard to ignore the triggers that had Winona internally blushing to the ears. The feel of breath against her ear and the slurred compliment about her bath fragrant self had started the 'par for the course' butterflies of nervous energy. It was important not to get caught up in the spin of her crush on the guy. David hadn't acted on, or conversed about that one time things between them had manifested into a post mission tangle of groping and tongues. It felt like ages ago anyway. It was before Stark had died; before the lecture in her room at the 52 and before the confrontation with her uncle to expose him for the monster they knew him to be. Winona half wondered if he remembered it at all. There had been some talk about him forgetting whole chunks of things or recalling them differently. Maybe this too had fallen into the waste paper basket of unimportant footnotes.

"Yes, yes.... boys have a penis, girls have a vagina. And you're drunk enough to paw at the gal who just can't help playing drunk triage after last call."
She kept her eyes on the task and with some extra tugging finally managed to loosen the knot and work the shoe free. the second was pulled free and set down next to its bff and Winona idly wondered why his shoe was wet. Ah the life of a blackout drunk. It was ages since she'd caught herself on similar territory. Not since long before her time with the x-men or even when she was off the grid. Being this drunk spoke of her days at MSU and the frat parties that were rampant on the weekends.

'Aw snap. He's stuck in one of those I'm so drunk I have to just hold tight to the same phrases over and over because my brain thinks its being super serious and having an epiphany kinda benders.' Pushing to get up and find her footing, Maximoff walked to the shower to turn on the high tech device so Serk didn't break the thing giving it percussion maintenance when it didn't work in a straightforward capacity. "Please tell me you can get the rest on your own, I'm not judging though if you just go in there fully dressed. I've had a few nights like this."

She was ignoring the self deprecating commentary for now. Talking to the guy while he reeked of a bar and the aftermath while he tried to prostrate himself at her mercy was just going to mean nothing when morning came and he remembered none of this life lesson. "If you think you can manage to get yourself in there, I'll get some coffee started." Nona was moving around the bathroom to pull towels down from the shelf and set them onto the little table by the shower. The usual things he'd need were already inside; soap shampoo, etc. So she didn't think there was much else that he'd need aside from maybe a robe, which wasn't anywhere in sight. Maybe Stark had them away in the linen closet somewhere. Again, maybe she didn't own one.

Turning back to check on the lad she saw that he'd already managed to peel himself out of his clothes. Her eyes went skyward to admire the handiwork of the crown molding along the ceiling. "Yep. you got this. I'll just see about that coffee then." She moved to leave and managed to stub her toe on the decorative clawfoot of the bath. The action forces her to come down and bark her shin and knee on the edge of the thing. Lungs take in a slice of air. Throat emits a small noise of complaint before she rushes to lie that she's okay. "I'm fine!" voice higher "I'm fine!" Winona continues out of the master bath and doesn't fret over it until she's out into the bedroom. bending at the middle she lifts gingerly the cuff of her pajama pants to reveal a broken line of skin, a swiftly growing and blackening lump at the bottom of her knee, and a few toes that feel like they've been jammed up or hairline fractured.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Dec 24 2016, 03:13 AM
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Once the wet shoe was off of David's foot, he wiggled the toes on the other foot too. The sock was damp and his foot was cold but it was nice to be free of the shoe. Double knotting it seemed like a great idea at the time, but he regretted it once he became too drunk to actually untie his own shoes. The commentary about him pawing someone after last call made him look down at Winona. His tone was slightly defensive. "Hey, I don't paw anyone without permission. Verbal or otherwise. You of all people should know that." He knew that he didn't have to add more and that she'd just dismiss it as some drunken slurring, but his eyes lingered on her towel clad form just a bit longer than he'd cared to let her see.

As Nona started the shower and started moving things around, David looked at the shower and nodded. "I think I can manage to operate a shower with little issue. Even if it is Stark's shower." He did like the idea of coffee though. "Coffee sounds good." Summers leaned back against the toilet tank again and then he stood up, slowly. He grabbed the sink for extra support and then started peeling his shirt off and unbuttoning his pants. His lips curled into a little smirk as Winona averted her eyes and studied the molding on the wall. He sighed for dramatic effect.

"Right. I forgot you embarrass easily." He just shook his head.

Then Winona smashed her toe into the tub and tried to convince Summers she was fine. He knew she had just probably broken a toe or two, but he wasn't going to argue with her if she said she was fine. He was too drunk to argue. He just shook his head again. "You're fine. Sure. Right. Whatever you say." David climbed into the shower. The damned thing was rather high tech with various buttons and settings, but he wasn't shocked. It was Antigone's shower. Tigs was always overcomplicating things. Still David avoided touching any of the panel's buttons. One of them probably would have vaporized him or teleported him to the moon or something. He just wanted a shower, not to be in a damned Star Trek movie.

David leaned against the wall and let the water run over him. It felt good to wash away the sins of the night. He grabbed the body wash, something fruit scented, but he was past caring. He lathered himself up and held the wall, while rinsing off. Maybe it would help cover up the fact that he smelled like a distillery exploded while he was at ground zero. He grabbed the shampoo and started to lather up, but the head motions were a little too much for him. Summers sat down slowly and landed on the floor with a small thud.

"I'm okay! We're all okay."

He let the water pour over him and wash the suds out of his hair, before he leaned against the wall of the tub and just let the water wash over him. He was going to regret the morning. That much was apparent already. David Summers closed his eyes for a minute and tuned out everything, but the running water. Winona's footsteps broke the small bit of concentration that he'd managed to get going. He looked up at her.

" 'm okay. Just wanted t'sit on the floor for a little bit. Things got wobbly." He gave her a thumbs up, so Winona would know that he was doing just fine.
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Jan 7 2017, 07:27 PM
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The cabinets were mostly vacant of things. Logic hypothesized that The Combs or Six had cleared out the place of anything perishable after Antigone was confirmed dead. Right next to the grinder was a pressure sealed container of whole beans. The coffee maker was way too high tech for her, but after a few minutes of fussing with the thing she was able to figure out how to load it up and make a mug. truth be told, Winona couldn't remember how David took his coffee, all she ever saw him drink was beer or orange juice directly out of the carton. She picked a safe bet with plain ol' black. Carrying the piping hot cuppa joe back toward the bathroom, she gave thought to putting it on the dresser, and that's when she heard the crash of weight against glass and walls.

Coffee was set down on the book she brought as not to leave a ring on the table and once more she was entering the bathroom she'd not had a chance to enjoy. Reluctantly, she gave the tub a glance and resolved to use the following weekend for her RnR. Bare feet padding more carefully across the tiles, her trajectory was on the alcove shower and the now seated team leader. Truth be told she would have moved faster, but her foot was giving her sharp protest with every step. "You don't look okay. You look like you've lost a barfight." before her brain had time to get in the way and tell her to stop and give the naked guy space, the maternal instincts took the wheel.

A small hand towel was in her hand, and the door was yanked open, to give better perspective of the litany of damage he'd done to himself during the blackout binge. Had he done all of this during the fall in the shower? Winona doubted it. Internally she felt the pang of regret for averting her eyes before the complication of water and birthday suits, but too little too late. Water was adjusted at the fountainhead to point away from the open door, she sat down and moved to wipe a foam of soap away from the nasty gash over his brow that had either opened up thanks to the warm water, or had come from barking his face against something in there.

Even with the effort to keep the water from getting out of the door, Winona could feel the spray bouncing off the back tiles and onto the shoulder of her shirt. It was an inconvenience, but considering the state of David's clothes she already had laundry on the do-to list. Air sliced through her teeth at the angry of the gash. it looked like it hurt. "I'm sorry, I know this hurts... Just try and hold still I want to be sure you didn't cut yourself down to the skull." Terrycloth pressed against skin, came away wet with water and blood. "It doesn't look that deep, but its hard to tell, head wounds bleed like crazy." Leaning down to find his eyes, Winona looked from one to the other to see if there was any variation on his pupils; if one was bigger than the other or if he seemed sluggish or off. "Do you know where you are?" It was the first thing she could think of to ask to verify if he had a major concussion or not.
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Jan 27 2017, 06:05 PM
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Winona was there questioning his claims of being okay. His head was starting to clear. He'd had enough time for a good portion of the booze to wear off and for his cognitive functions to begin coming back to life. He was naked in the shower. The Voice hadn't bothered him in his blackout state. That was good. He didn't need to hear any more about his failings. Even though one of the people he'd failed was standing right in front of him. And from what he'd put together, he was in the home of another failure. It was like he was drawing it all down on himself at once. Maybe Tig's ghost would show up too and they could do a Christmas Carol thing while they were at it.

He looked up at Winona and searched his hazy memory for a minute. "No, won the bar fight. The other guys had it much worse." A small smile crossed his lips, before he winced in pain. He tasted the tang of copper and suspected that something had opened up, but then Nona was there, wiping blood away with a towel. Summers winced slightly and waved her away. "No. Doesn't hurt. It's fine. Just a hazard of being me." David's weakened hand fell away as he let the other X-man tend to him.

"Yeah. I know how head wounds can be. I've had a few in my time." David laughed, wincing. "Probably explains a thing or two, right?" Though he did ache in a few places and his sleep was few and far between, he was not minding letting Winona care for him at that moment. It had to be the alcohol. There was no other explanation. His guard was just down and he was too drunk and tired to care. He just smiled at Winona as she wiped away the blood.

"Am I in Heaven?" David paused. "No, huh? Not helping. I'm also drunk, so any symptoms of a concussion would probably be harder to find. Probably." He gave her another thumbs up. "Stark's apartment, I think you said. How about I get up off the floor and we can have a conversation without running water?" He started trying to get to his feet, aware that Nona would start helping him for fear that he'd fall again.

"This is not how I thought this fantasy would go... You don't even have the skimpy nurse's outfit on."
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Jan 30 2017, 07:21 PM
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He was being nice. Actually, a hundred percent nice, and without a hint of his usual flair for hiding behind cynicism. Either Winona had found a magical level between drunk and sober where she could actually talk to the guy, or he'd hit his head a lot harder than her initial guess. "If you don't mind hanging out in a robe, we can get that coffee in you." She was helping him to his feet, the effort to keep her pajamas dry, not really an option anymore. The backside and part of the thigh of the drawstring pants were wet, as was most of the shoulder and side of the t-shirt. Now with the press of David's torso against her, she was sure the damp attire would need to get tossed into the machine. "Or if your ego can handle it, I can get you to a bed so you can crash out and sleep it off."

The joke when they struggled to get him upright was almost a welcomed, good sign, that he was returning to normal. "Yeah sorry about that. If I'd known I was going to spend my weekend of bath salts and face masks, here taking care of you, I would have packed differently." Her words came out with a little groan at the sheer weight of the guy. even with his help, David was still heavy and she had to apply a lot more weight than she wanted to on a couple of injured toes. Once he was leaned against the tiles, she let go an arm and twisted at the middle to shut off the water. She kept her observations polite when she tuned back. "Here." Hands pushed a towel into his chest before she moved away to go and retrieve a fluffy white robe. "Don't fall down again. I'll be back with something for you to wear."

She was careful this time not to smash her foot on the tub, and after a systematic search in the doors down the hallway, Winona hit pay dirt with a linen closet at the back of the alcove. In an attempt to keep the fitted sheets, and other odds and ends from getting messed up, she pulled out a terrycloth robe. Holding it out she judged the size. It seemed about average. Might be short in some places but it would be good enough. Turning on her heel, breath caught in her throat at the close proximity of her teammate. The towel she'd shoved at him was thankfully, wrapped around his middle. "Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!" Lungs pulled a breath and then another. "I guess you are feeling better getting the slip on me like that. And well after that stunt with the knife, we're even now. right?"
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DAVID C.C. SUMMERS
 Posted: Feb 21 2017, 03:52 AM
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PRIVATE SECURITY 33 He/Him 191 POSTS
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As the leader of the X-men let Winona Maximoff help him to his feet, he inhaled the scent of her hair and some of the other products she'd used and it smelled wonderful. That awakened a carnal urge that he'd been suppressing since they'd kissed. In his state of diminished inhibitions, Summers planted a single kiss on her neck, managing to restrain himself to just the one. The idea of getting some coffee into him sounded like a good idea. But so did the idea of going to bed. He decided on the coffee though. Winona didn't need to see him any weaker.

"Mmm. Coffee sounds good. Let's do that. Plenty of time for sleep later. After the coffee."

"Oh, I'm sure. I imagine there would have been a whole different wardrobe." Winona pushed the towel into his hands, and David started to dry off. The way she averted her eyes, it was pretty clear she was uncomfortable. Which, was about par for the course with her. He kept drying off even as she wandered out of the room. The whole series of events was strange and very fuzzy. It was hard for him to remember what exactly happened.

The lights in the bathroom were still hurting Berserker's eyes. There was a lovely throbbing starting behind his eyes. It had been awhile since David had been on a bender like this, but it was pretty obvious that he was going to wake up wishing that he was dead in the morning. Best to drink the coffee and try to stave it off as long as possible. Then maybe he could just pass out and sleep through the worst parts of the hangover. Either way, he was tired of standing in Stark's ultra bright bathroom. Clearly, Tigs had decided that ultra bright stage lights had to be in here.

"Fuck this." He muttered to himself, wrapping the towel around him and wandering back into the darkened apartment after Winona. He'd give his eyes a little reprieve and try to act like he was more sober. Everyone would appreciate that. Summers focused his willpower and put one foot in front of the other. He saw Nona next to the linen closet and moved over to her, quieter than he'd intended. As she jumped and started throwing invectives out, he held up a hand.

"Christ, Nona. Stop yelling. I didn't mean ta scare ya." He kept one hand on the towel around his waist. "I just got tired of the lights in there. I felt like I was standin' in the middle of Wrigley Field. Hurt my damn eyes."
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WINONA E. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Feb 22 2017, 03:44 AM
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It was incredible. Thoughts, instincts, twisted up feelings, that she had pushed down into the bottom of her person could be stirred up with just the smallest of provocations. Winny wasn't even sure if David was aware that he'd managed to find the soft spot in her resolve to throw the machine out of whack. She tried not to let it register, the small act. But she'd felt the repercussions of the press of his lips against her neck. It was, in part, why she had to leave the bathroom as swiftly and abruptly as she had. Being that close to him, taking in the scent, feeling out the frame of his arms, his torso, catching the tickle of his breath as they danced the line between friendly and fornication was just too damning. It was enough that her stomach was tied in familiar knots.

Oddly it wasn't the nudity that did it, it was the kindness. David never revealed this side of himself. Usually when he rolled into the 52 half whacked out of his gourd on whiskey, he was fresh from the field of random booty call. all grins and postulation. This was different. This was freaking her out. To be sure, he was hiding the warmth amid cheap innuendoes, but it was there, plain as day and hard to look past. He was trying to connect and for all of the good it would do when he was sober and in the right mind, Winona doubted that he'd remember the revelation of his soft underbelly come dawn and sobriety. It was why it was important not to let her own self interest lead this horse to bad decisions and a morning of feeling hollowed out again.

"I wasn't yelling." she moved to help him put his arms into the robe and tie it around the middle. "I was thrown off balance. It happens when you sneak up on a person in the darkness." Hands moved to smooth out the robe, to fix the collar so that it didn't bunch up around the neck. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. As if compensating for the volume that David had complained about. The poor guy looked completely tenderized, even with the wet hair and cleaned up visage. "And while I am a fan of surprises," She leaned to whisper into his ear for her next sentence. "I've come to terms that I'm not one that you want to wake up next to tomorrow morning."

Winona slipped away from the intimacy of closeness. Moved past him and back down the hallway toward the break to the left that led to the meat of the house and the trek through a living room toward the kitchen. It hurt her to say what needed to be said, but it was for the best, she reassured herself. She kept her back to him as she moved to procure the cup of coffee from the counter and move it onto the table by the sofa for him. Features remained placid and she moved with almost robotic gestures. It was just her means of compensating for the punch she'd landed to her own heartstrings. It was easier to cut this off before it got too far. "I forgot to ask if you wanted milk. there isn't any, but I still thought I'd ask."
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