[ narrative: with beast ] "Wings are strewn everywhere, there's blood all around.."

[cyclopticblasts]

Scott couldn't believe this was what had brought him back early from his short break with Emma. How things had gone from happy to this in a very short space of time was dizzying. Scott stood at the door of the Mansion's medical clinic, looking in where Warren was lying in a broken, battered mess on one of the beds. He was on his side with his wings in an intricate sling of gauze bandages against his back. It was the only way to splint them to try to encourage his own healing to kick in, but it just wasn't happening. John sat on an uncomfortable steel chair beside the bed, looking like he was in a shocked trance just staring at the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

When Beast relayed how many broken bones Warren had, including his wings, Scott visibly winced and shook his head mutely. He was guilt-ridden for having been away to let this happen, and it was only emphasised with frustration over not knowing exactly what the fuck had gone down that led to Warren - of all mutants - falling off a building. He was supposed to be able to fly. How the hell had this happened?

"Poison?" Scott repeated in a mumble. His own arms where folded tightly but his fingers were drumming restlessly on his arm. "From who? Who the fuck did this? Where's Allen? I want to talk to him. He must know something if he got there before the rest of us."

( Hank nodded regretfully... )

COMPLETE

[ open rp ] @ wayswithwords

[cyclopticblasts]

MMMBop? Seriously?