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 It's A Whole New World, Feb. 17th, 6:30am, open
Wicked
 Posted: Jan 8 2018, 07:27 PM
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It hadn’t been a full day since Wicked had been liberated from the camp in Genosha by the Brotherhood and some fellow Genoshan mutants. They’d wanted to have her join the other mutants and go hide in Europe somewhere. But, Wicked had flat out refused to do so. The Brotherhood was fighting for their people. And if there was one thing Wicked was down for, it was fighting for her people. She’d refused to stand by and do nothing in the camp and that didn’t change. How could she just go hide after everything she’d seen? All she and everyone else held prisoner in that camp had been through? No, she’d joined on up without any hesitation. Wicked was going to do whatever it took to help her fellow mutants.

There was a lot to take in. Like the fact that she had a whole room to herself. Not a bunk which she may have to share if they got a bunch of females in the barracks. And it had an actual bed. Not the halfassed structures that had filled the barracks of that were made so they could cram as many of them into the long room as possible. But an honest to goodness bed with a mattress. It didn’t matter to her if it was top of the line or just your normal bed. Heck, even a sort of run down one was better than the hard wood she’d laid on for over a decade. There was a place to put her things, which consisted of the clothes she’d been wearing, the needle and thread she always kept on hand, and the energy whip and knife she’d taken from Ponytail and Stupid.

She hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Everything that had happened was still racing through her mind. Wicked had to remind herself it hadn’t been a dream. This was all real. At the break of day, there’d been no blaring to wake up. No having to fight to get fed something which would barely qualify as fit for consumption and wasn’t enough to fill anyone, but had all the nutrients packed into it to get through the day. There was no going off to work from sunup to sundown only to trudge back to the barracks, exhausted. There wasn’t the threat at any moment of having electricity sent through her body. It felt so weird. Wrong, even. As much as she’d hated the camp, it dawned on her very quickly that was all she really knew. She knew what to expect. She’d had a routine.

Wicked didn’t know what to do with herself. The others had seemed to have gone to bed. But not her. She couldn’t sleep. Not with everything sinking in. So, she’d found the laundry room, stripped down to her underwear, figured out how the washing machine and dryer worked (they were like tiny versions of the ones at the camp) and begun washing her clothes. It’d felt weird, pulling her undershirt over her head and not feeling her collar. Her fingers ran over the scarred area where it’d use to sit. The skin still a bit tender.

Her clothes were in the dryer now. Tumbling around and around, making Wicked feel a bit dizzy to watch them too long. She’d taken her needle and thread out before putting her clothes in and had brought the pillowcase on her pillow with her. There wasn’t much else to do but wait. And Wicked didn’t want to walk around in just her underwear. So, she sat there in the laundry room, embroidering flowers onto the edge of the pillowcase with her black thread. Her back to the wall, and facing the door, constantly looking at it and half expecting to have one of the guards throw it open at any time now. So, when the doorknob began to turn, she got to her feet, setting her shoulders back, bending a bit at the knees, ready to defend herself against whoever came in. Pillowcase and needle still in hand.
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Rat
 Posted: Jan 11 2018, 10:20 AM
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It had been roughly twelve hours since the Brotherhood had arrived in Genosha and helped start a revolution. They had taken down guards and removed the collars from the prisoners allowing them to use their powers freely. Many of the prisoners had then turned on the guards in what could only be described as an act of karma. The prisoners had been powerless and had been subjected to all kinds of horrors now it was time for the guards to pay the price for all the misery they had caused. Rat would have been lying if he said he hadn't found it vaguely amusing. They had treated those people so badly and now the tables had been turned and they were the ones cowering in fear.

Now that that part was over many of the prisoners had been transported somewhere else. Someplace safe where they could try and live without being attacked. They had been through so much misery and suffering and for what? To make the lives of some bastards humans a lot easier! It was sickening. Even more sickening was how the world would be unlikely to care. It was only mutants that were being harmed after all. And who cared about mutants? Only other mutants and their opinions didn't matter apparently.

After returning to the base, Rat had been exhausted and had crashed out for a few hours. The weapons he had looted from the guards lay abandoned on the floor a few feet from his bed. There would be time to deal with those later. After he had slept. Which was not long and he found himself wide awake and rather jittery at around five am. Something had woken him up but he couldn't quite remember what it was. Probably something to do with the dream he had been having. A dream he had had where they repeated the events of the previous evening... except when it came to the prisoners... the prisoners had been his little brother and sister for some reason. This thought had shocked him, and maybe that was why he was awake and unable to get back to sleep.

By the time six am rolled around he was pacing back and forth across his room, trying to settle his mind. He had known things were bad for mutants in some places but the conditions in Genosha had horrified him and he needed to get it together. His gaze fell upon a pile of laundry he had yet to do and he sighed. Why not? Do some laundry. It might bore him to sleep for a little. Besides, there was some blood, not his, on the tshirt he had been wearing in Genosha and it was probably a good idea to deal with that.

With a sigh he gathered everything up and dumped it in a basket. And stopping only to grab a book, his current one being Desperation by Stephen King, and headed towards the laundry room. His wristband was on and he was visible for the moment. As amusing as it would be, making someone think the laundry room was haunted was not his aim for that morning. He could do that later.

With it being so early he had not expected to see anyone, so he was more than a little surprised to see someone there. A lady who was in her underwear to be exact. She was stood brandishing a... sewing needle (?) like it was a weapon and the surprise really showed on Rat's face.

"Ummm... hi...?" he said, trying to avoid staring at her. Damn this was weird. "I didn't realise anyone would be... in here.... Would you like a.. blanket or something?" Not his most awkward attempt at conversation but still not his best. "I'm Rat."

Wicked
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Wicked
 Posted: Jan 12 2018, 03:59 PM
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Wicked had yet to let her guard down. It'd been a very long time since that had last occurred. She was used to finding herself trapped in a corner, no way out and no weapons. There was the word mutant emblazoned on her right forearm in black ink. Scars covered her back and formed a ring of scars and flesh rubbed red and raw where her collar had sat. She was used to being stripped of anything resembling humanity, including her clothes. And she was also ready to give whichever guard came through the door absolute hell. Just another, whatever day it was.

But, it wasn't one of the many guards. It was a kid. With a basket of laundry and a book. Tensed up muscles and a facial expression that screamed I’mma fight you gave way to confusion for a moment until Wicked relaxed a bit and lowered her needle. Shit. That’s right, she thought. She wasn’t in Genosha anymore. There weren’t anymore guards bursting in to drag her or whoever else they were coming for off to have who knew what done to them. She knew that. She knew that this wasn't the camp. And that she was supposedly safe here. This kid was one of the Brotherhood members, right? So, he was ok. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He was one of her people.

That didn’t mean she completely relaxed or let her guard down, though. It just wasn’t something she did. Wicked did feel a bit ashamed though. He wasn’t a threat. And her first reaction was to be ready to attack him. ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Hanging her head a bit and looking at the needle and pillowcase in her hand before looking back up at the boy, Wicked wasn’t entirely sure how to do this. Interacting with a guy who wasn’t either a guard or on the other side of a fence. Of course, she had done so hours prior, obviously. But, she’d had a bunch of blood pumping through her veins at the time. This was different. ”Force of habit.” The sarcastic asshole part of her chimed in, no shit, sherlock. But it needed to shut the hell up right now.

At least she didn’t seem to be the only one who was feeling awkward from what she could tell. Sure, Wicked wasn’t an expert or anything, but she also wasn’t a complete idiot. Clearly, this wasn’t normal. She wasn’t normal. Freak. Monster. Abomination. Those words echoed in her mind and she shook her head a bit to try and make them go away. Forcing them back into the cold, dark space in the very back of her mind which she tried to avoid. They’d been wrong. Hell, they’d lied. She could do this.

”I didn’t think there’d be anyone in here either.” Most of the Brotherhood members had been asleep, as far as she’d known when she’d first come in here. Her body was still on Genoshan time. Which meant she was incredibly out of whack with whereever the Brotherhood base was. His offer of a blanket kind of took her back for a second as she wasn’t used to guys doing nice things. At most, there’d been words of encouragement or hushed compliments from the other side of the fence. ”Ummm, yeah. A blanket actually sounds really nice. Thanks.” She hadn’t even thought about getting one because it wouldn’t have been allowed back at the camp. All she really knew was how things worked there. And it seemed that things were different here. Which was good, but also kind of scary because she had no idea how different.

”Nice to meet ya, Rat. I’m Wicked.” For some reason, hearing that someone else had a name which people tended to use as an insult made Wicked smile a bit. She didn’t know if he’d picked that name for himself or if it’d been given to him like hers had. But, she was no stranger to being called vermin. So, the fact that he went by Rat made her like him.

It took her a hot second to realize Rat was, A, not in his underwear to do laundry. And B, he had a whole basket of clothes to wash. Her being half naked probably wasn’t normal. Shit. She knew from before her time in the camp that the way things were done there wasn’t how it was done in the outside world. But, she’d spent so much of her life doing it this way with no other options. ”Fuck, I probably look a bit… shocking or something. Sorry. I just couldn’t sleep and my clothes were dirty.” And she didn’t have anything else to wear while they were being washed.
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Rat
 Posted: Jan 12 2018, 05:41 PM
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It seemed like it was going to be a rather interesting day already. Rat was trying to avoid staring at the lady and it was kind of hard. Not just because she was in her underwear but because she was scarred in so many places. It was disturbing and another sign that they done right by attacking that camp and freeing people. "Its ok." Rat said seriously before adding, "I'm sure you could be very threatening with that sewing needle of yours." She probably could. He didn't know what her powers were, meaning she might probably be able to do something weird, like channel fire electricity through it or use it to unpick him one molecule at a time.

"It is a bit early to be up. I suspect many of the others are having a lie in." Destroying a work camp was tiring after all. He was only awake because he of a bad dream. He doubted the others were having such issues, or if they did they had a way of dealing with them that didn't involve laundry. Their ways probably involved training or alcohol. When the lady said she would like a blanket he dumped his basket on the nearest table and went to cupboard where he was likely to find one. He had tidied the place recently on one of those long, dull days before anyone had been able to see him and knew they would be there. "There you go. There might be some clothes available somewhere..." Rat wasn't so sure of that part. He had arrived with his own clothes and so far hadn't found a room containing spare clothes. But you could never tell with this place.

So her name was Wicked? That was pretty neat. "That's a cool name." he said as he began loading up an empty machine. "You choose it?" He had chosen his and felt better for using it and not the name his parents had given him.

"I'll admit it's a bit of shock. You don't see many people wandering around here in their underwear, but if the only clothes you have are in the wash, then you've got a good reason." It wasn't like she was doing that for the sheer hell of it, right? "And I can imagine it'd be a bit hard to sleep after yesterday. By the way, do you know how to get blood out of something?" he asked, holding up the bloody shirt. "One of those tossbags guarding the camp was rude enough to bleed on me." Such rudeness, that man had certainly deserved the smack round the head he had gotten.
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Wicked
 Posted: Jan 14 2018, 06:29 PM
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Having someone seem to overestimate her was new for Wicked. It felt like a compliment, and she wasn’t used to those at all. But, it felt good as it sent a surge of pride through her for no good reason. She couldn’t help but crack a grin and let out a laugh. ”Yeah, I’d have you in stitches real quick.” Literally. It would only take her maybe a few minutes to stitch him into his current clothing so he’d be trapped in it if she wanted to. As of right now, she didn’t want to bring about any sort of harm to Rat. So far, he hadn’t done anything threatening. Or mean. Basically, he’d done nothing within the realm of how Wicked expected to be treated.

Blinking at him in confusion, the question of, ”What’s a lie in?” slipped out of her mouth before she could really think about it. Taking a moment to really consider it, she figured it was probably like sleeping late or something. Another concept she wasn’t used to. Perhaps she should make a list of those, because she was taken aback when Rat didn’t just offer her a blanket, but actually got one and offered it to her. Wrapping it around herself, she was pleasantly surprised by his kindness. He’d mentioned there might be some clothes available somewhere. She hadn’t really looked. ”Well, I can make my own if I get some fabric and find out what the regulations are.”

She let out another chuckle at the question about her name. There was a slight stroke to her ego there upon hearing he thought her name was cool. ”Not exactly. It was given to me and I decided I liked it.” What had been meant to be a cruel joke had gotten thrown in the guards’ faces when she’d decided to take up that name. One of her many ways to go fuck you to them.

A loud beep came from the dryer, alerting her to that her clothes were finished drying. Opening it up, she grabbed her undershirt, work shirt, and pants out and pulled them back on. As she buttoned up her work shirt, she felt for the spot where she’d embroidered the name her parents gave her in hangul. She looked at his blood stained shirt Rat held up. ”Better their blood than any of ours. You could soak it in cold water and try and scrub it out. Or use bleach? That might harm the fabric though. Sorry, I can’t be more help with that. I’m a seamstress, not a laundry expert. But if you have anything that's ripped or needs to be repaired, I can do that, no problem.” She shrugged her shoulders in a sorry, but what can you do manner.

Her stomach decided that would be a great time to make a very loud growl. The sort that you really can’t miss. This wasn’t the first time it’d happened. In fact, it was far too common of an occurrence that she went for a while without eating. She’d learned how to deal with it. But, it did remind her last time she’d eaten was before going to work in the laundry room for the day. And then the revolt had happened. So, it’d been a while since her last meal. ”Sorry about that. When do you guys have breakfast? Or your morning meal? Whatever you call it?”
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Rat
 Posted: Jan 15 2018, 04:47 PM
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At first Rat was confused by the way she didn't know what a lie in was, but then he reminded himself that she had been a slave to those twats in Genosha, she had probably only just been allowed to sleep for a few hours. "Um... they're just sleeping til a bit later in the morning." Which was likely, the others had done a lot of work the day before. After he gave Wicked the blanket she said something about making her own clothes. "You know how to make you're own clothes? That's a useful skill." It really was. Wicked might be able to help with repairs done to the others uniforms and stuff. It wasn't like you could take those to one of those places that did repairs to clothing. "So... if you were to get hold of some fabric and a sewing machine you'd be able to make what you'd need?" One thing she said puzzled him. "What regulations do you mean?" Were there regulations for clothing or something?

Ah, so that was how she had gotten her name. There were probably more mutants who chose their name like that. Rat was one of them. "Oh. That's how I got Rat. Got called it loadsa times by my parents so I decided it was my name. Not used the other one they gave me since." Although at one point he had thought that Rat was his 'real' name and the one used by other adults was just a weird nickname. He had dropped that idea when he realised there was no one in the world who would happily have 'Arnold' as a nickname.

While Wicked got dressed, Rat loaded up the washer with his clothes. This was one of the few times when it seemed his parents had done him a favour by leaving some of the household tasks up to him. He could clean, do laundry, iron and sort of cook. Which was better than some kids his age. He looked thoughtful when Wicked pointed out that it was good that it was the guards blood on his shirt and not his. "True enough." He went to the sink and switched the cold tap on before fumbling around with the plug as he put it in. "I'll leave this to soak for a bit... and if all else fails I can get a new one." That was one thing he could guarantee. The tshirt was not special, a plain grey one he had gotten from Primark, so he was not too worried about having to replace it. Although there were no Primarks in America. He could easily someplace else.

The sound of Wicked's stomach reminded him of an important part of the morning that he had yet to see to; breakfast. He hadn't eaten since the day before and even then he had been too nervous to each much. So he was now very hungry and considering what he could have to eat. "Oh... We don't really have a schedule for that. Just whenever we get up. Meaning its time for breakfast now. You coming? I'm not good at cooking but I can make pancakes." he said as he headed for the door.
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