Ororo and Warren, backdated to the party
Sep. 16th, 2017 08:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainWarren is stunned by the most beautiful girl ever. But Ororo gets him talking and they do the get-to-know-you once he recovers his voice.
Ororo still wasn't sure what to expect when it came to life at the school, and that included tonight's party. She hadn't dressed up, and was in one of her usual pair of ripped black jeans and a comfortable long-sleeve tee. She didn't know how the other kids could be bare-armed right now. The weather was seriously chilly, as far as she was concerned.
Matter of habit, probably.
She approached the party cautiously, still not sure that she wanted to attend. But being social would be good; she could hear Ainet telling her that being on her own was no good for her. Everyone needed friends, and a young girl needed more than an old crone like her in her life.
Still, Ororo missed her something fierce.
As for the here and now, she squared her shoulders and walked over to the main throb of the party. She spotted food to the side and headed for it, weaving her way through the party-goers with the smooth ease of someone who had gotten used to navigating crowded streets at a young age.a
Warren was just returning from another drink run, sidestepping some dancers and trying not to knock into anyone with the wings. Maybe he should go check on Simon and see if he--
Then he stopped dead in his tracks as a girl appeared before him. A girl he'd never seen before. Quite possibly, the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. She was dark-skinned with pale eyes and hair, very punk rock, and that figure...
He was staring. Oh god, he was staring. At a girl. Say something, idiot. Say something charming! "I, uh. Hi. Warren. I mean, you're--I mean hi, I'm Warren. Worthington."
Ororo had reached the food, and had been about to start stuffing her face, when she had felt the weight of a gaze on her, and she'd looked over at... She frowned at the winged boy as he blurted out an introduction, and could only answer him with a genuine, "Aren't you cold?"
The accent was discreet, but still easily noticeable. She hadn't spoken enough English since her parents' death to do without.
"Oh, no. I mean, I've got good resistance. With the wings, for air." He wasn't making any sense and he hated himself right now. He needed to get his groove back. Yesterday. "I mean, my mutation compensates for lower temperatures. And it's not super comfy to wear a shirt. Plus, dancing." He smiled crookedly.
"Right," Ororo agreed, after a beat needed to parse out everything he had been saying. Another beat passed, during which she just looked him over, patient about her own curiosity. These wings really were impressive, and the thought of him flying even more so, regardless of her own abilities. Belatedly, she remembered to introduce herself. "I'm Ororo. Ororo Munroe."
Knowing when he was being looked at, Warren stood a little straighter and fluffed his secondary feathers without even realizing. He just heard the rustling sound, then flushed. Thank god it was dark... apart from the party lights. Shit.
He cleared his throat and held out his free hand. "Nice to meet you, Ororo. Pretty name. Never heard it before."
"It's Edo," Ororo replied, then shook his hand. It wasn't something she was used to doing, but her grip was strong and confident nonetheless. "Nigerian." If she'd noticed the pink staining his cheeks, she wasn't going to say anything about it. Many people were uncomfortable being observed.
"Wow, so, are you from there?" Damn, Nigeria. Warren couldn't think of the capital right now; his father would be so disappointed, but why should today be any different. All he could remember about the country in general was where it was, and that it was where Boko Haram were. Not exactly good for conversation. "Just asking because--you know. Accent."
"I grew up in Cairo," Ororo replied. It wasn't really an answer, but the more complete one took a lot more time. "I have a much better accent in Arabic." If you didn't mind the Egyptian accent, anyway.
"Oh, awesome! I've been there, actually. I mean, I'm sure I didn't see much of it," --because they were there on one of his mother's 'charity trips' which meant she and her other high flying friends stayed in five star hotels, drank a lot of champagne, and talked about how hard up the poor brown people were-- "but I liked it."
"Vacation?" Ororo asked, tilting her head to the side as she watched him.
Warren nodded. All he remembered was his under trying to put him on a camel. That and the pyramids. Vaguely. "But I'd like to go back now I'd actually appreciate it. I was, like. Ten."
"Children have good instinct," Ororo told him, since that had been true, in her experience. Granted, the children she'd most been around had been survivors, like her. "If you liked it then, you'll probably like it now."
"Can't wait to find out." Warren's grin was pretty goofy. She was pretty and had a certain... something. The way she talked and carried herself combined with the punk look. Brilliant. "What about you? First time to New York, or been before?"
"I was born in New York," Ororo answered, an amused hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But we left when I was a few months old. It might as well be my first time."
"Welcome back, then." Warren said with a grin. "I'd say welcome home, but that's kind of presumptuous." He managed not to slur the word. Yay for not being too late in the party yet. "Were you born in the city or...?"
"That's what my birth certificate says," Ororo stated. She had no clue herself, obviously.
"Then you're blessed," Warren said with a chuckle. "New Yorker by birth is the way to be. Don't let the west coast kids fool you. And definitely don't listen to anyone from Jersey."
"I don't feel American," Ororo replied with a one-shouldered shrug. All this talk of geographical rivalry went over her head. The only sort she knew was the sort that was violent, whether it was between street gangs or different ethnic groups. "Let alone like a New Yorker."
"That'd be pretty remarkable, seeing as you don't remember the place," Warren said easily. He hadn't meant anything real by it, just trying to make the new (beautiful) girl welcome. "What do you feel like, then?"
The question demanded consideration, and Ororo took a moment to give it just that. Not so very long ago, she would have said Egyptian. It had been all she had known. But it had never quite fit, and now she knew why. That urge to go south had not been random, and she had found her roots there.
"It's going to sound trite," she warned him, "but I feel like I'm from the world." The line she came from had not stuck to one tribe, one country, for all that they had remained in Africa - until now. It was not her heritage to put limitations on what she was, for all that she had to acknowledge where her roots came from. Still, she knew what her answer sounded like, and she gave Warren a small smile that seemed to say, 'what can you do'.
"Actually, it sounds right," Warren said, impressed that it hadn't sounded trite. You had to have a certain something to make that line work--and Ororo did. In spades. "There's something very of the world about you. Can't put my finger on it, but maybe that's part of the charm."
Ororo remained quiet for a few seconds, clearly trying to gauge him. But she did not let the silence stretch long enough to become awkward, and ended up nodding, a small smile on her lips. "All right. Now," she tilted her head towards the food laid out beside them, which had been her initial goal. "What do you recommend, Warren?"
"There's a lot of good vegan food, if you're into that." Warren was aware that he was being judged, but that tended to bring out the best in him, so he didn't mind at all. Maybe he lifted his chin a little higher and smiled a little more softly. "Personally, I go for the pasta dishes. Pasta salad all day, especially with fresh mozzarella. Hell yeah."
"Let's try that, then," Ororo decided, as easily as that, and moved to get a plate and help herself, with an air of smooth decisiveness about the way she moved.
"Can I grab you a drink?" He offered. "There's regular soda and juice, and then there's the spiked cooler over there. Did you already hear about that?"
"Spiked?" Ororo echoed curiously, glancing back at him as she helped herself to some salad.
Oooh, Terry hadn't gotten to her yet either--good thing Warren grabbed her. "Yeah, that cooler there has vodka in the juice and whiskey in the ginger ale. The other one is totally free of additives, alcoholic or other."
Ah, spiked. Making a mental note of the new word, Ororo took a couple of seconds, as she finished helping herself, to think it over. One glass wouldn't hurt. She straightened up and nodded gratefully at Warren. "I'd love a glass of - spiked - juice. Thank you."
She wasn't sure why he wanted to go and get it for her, but it did not hurt. In the meantime, she could grab a fork and get started on her plate.
Warren hopped to it, elbowing his way to the cooler and rescuing a vodka and cranberry from its depths. She looked like a cranberry kinda woman. He returned to her and said, "Wanna find a place to sit, or are you good standing?"
Ororo had moved a short way from the buffet, so anyone could get to it easily, and she nodded along to her answer to Warren. "Let's sit." Sitting came with a certain commitment to their conversation, however temporary. "Thank you for the drink."
"My pleasure." He led the way to a picnic table and settled on the bench sideways, straddling it, his wings hanging off the back. "So, how'd you end up here? Xavier stage an intervention like he did with me?"
"He came to talk to me," Ororo nodded, and settled on the same bench as him, also sideways, to be facing him. She set her drink down on the table and balanced her plate on one hand to eat. "It made sense to come with him."
"Same," Warren said. "Upping the mutant skills seemed like my best option. What's your party trick?"
"Weather control," Ororo answered after swallowing another forkful. "You? Anything beside the pretty wings?" They were very pretty.
They fluffed at the compliment, rustling softly. Warren settled in, suddenly glad to be off his feet for a few minutes and just chill out with a drink and easy company. "Thanks, and kind of. My eyesight is crazy good so I can see from way above, my bones are hollow so I'm easy to haul around, I'm really strong, proportionately. That kind of stuff.
"Nothing as cool as weather control. Damn. You'd come in handy for rainy day flights."
"You don't like flying in the rain?" Ororo asked with raised eyebrows.
"You're right, I like the rain," Warren said thoughtfully. "It's the lightning that worries me."
"Best have me along if you intend to fly through a thunderstorm, then," Ororo confirmed, after swallowing another bite. She paused in her eating to reach for her drink and have a sip. "I thought drinking alcohol was prohibited, at our age." In this country, obviously.
"It's completely illegal, but American teens are nothing if not resourceful." Warren raised his bottle in salute. "Of course, the Professor is a telepath, so he's either willing to let us get away with it as long as we're not total idiots about it--at least we're here and not stumbling around in the city somewhere--or he's going to bust our asses in about fifteen minutes."
"He is a telepath," Ororo agreed. "I'm sure that if he was going to bust this up, he would have before it happened." She paused for another bite, then added, "He seems... dedicated," she settled on, "that we should be teenagers, not just mutants." Or so it had felt, from the long conversation they had had before she agreed to come here.
"I think you're right," Warren said, staring thoughtfully into his drink. "And that's awesome. A lot of us wouldn't get the chance to do the teenager thing without him." Warren had started early, maybe, but now he was on that list too.
"What is your story, Warren?" Ororo asked curiously, watching him as she kept eating.
"Spoiled brat turned obvious mutant," Warren said easily. "Grew up in New York society and New England boarding schools. Went superhero for a few months. Now..." he gestured around them.
"Superhero?" Ororo echoed, now even more curious.
Warren ran a hand through his hair, wings ruffling in a rare self-conscious moment. "Uh, yeah, in Central Park. I did this whole Avenging Angel thing for a few months. It was great, but I could use more training."
"What did you do?" Once her curiosity was piqued, it was difficult for Ororo to rein the questions in.
"Eh, stopped some muggers and would be assailants. Some actual in-the-process assaults too," he admitted. "Also got a few cats out of trees. You know, neighborhood superhero stuff."
The part about the cats made her smile, amused, and she nodded to his conclusion, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Your neighborhood was lucky to have you. And you were lucky to manage, untrained."
"Yeah, that's the truth," Warren looked slightly sheepish, but his grin was blazing again in seconds. "But that's why I'm here. Well, that and it's nice just to be somewhere I don't have to hide these guys." He chucked a thumb in the direction of his wings.
"Hiding them would be a shame," Ororo confirmed, smiling as she looked at the 'guys' in question.
"Right?" Warren grinned right back, and his wings fluffed a little before resettling. "Unfortunately, my parents don't think the same way, so for now, this is the only place I can be me."
"For now," Ororo echoed, both statement and question.
"I wasn't made for hiding," Warren said with a chuckle. He had no idea how he was gonna do it... but someday, he was. "There's a certain inevitability to the final destination for me. Just a question of what path I take. You feel me?"
"I think so," Ororo confirmed, amused by the phrasing of that question. She made a mental note to remember it. She smiled hopefully. "I look forward to seeing the paths each of us will walk."
"I'll drink to that."/cut>
Ororo still wasn't sure what to expect when it came to life at the school, and that included tonight's party. She hadn't dressed up, and was in one of her usual pair of ripped black jeans and a comfortable long-sleeve tee. She didn't know how the other kids could be bare-armed right now. The weather was seriously chilly, as far as she was concerned.
Matter of habit, probably.
She approached the party cautiously, still not sure that she wanted to attend. But being social would be good; she could hear Ainet telling her that being on her own was no good for her. Everyone needed friends, and a young girl needed more than an old crone like her in her life.
Still, Ororo missed her something fierce.
As for the here and now, she squared her shoulders and walked over to the main throb of the party. She spotted food to the side and headed for it, weaving her way through the party-goers with the smooth ease of someone who had gotten used to navigating crowded streets at a young age.a
Warren was just returning from another drink run, sidestepping some dancers and trying not to knock into anyone with the wings. Maybe he should go check on Simon and see if he--
Then he stopped dead in his tracks as a girl appeared before him. A girl he'd never seen before. Quite possibly, the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. She was dark-skinned with pale eyes and hair, very punk rock, and that figure...
He was staring. Oh god, he was staring. At a girl. Say something, idiot. Say something charming! "I, uh. Hi. Warren. I mean, you're--I mean hi, I'm Warren. Worthington."
Ororo had reached the food, and had been about to start stuffing her face, when she had felt the weight of a gaze on her, and she'd looked over at... She frowned at the winged boy as he blurted out an introduction, and could only answer him with a genuine, "Aren't you cold?"
The accent was discreet, but still easily noticeable. She hadn't spoken enough English since her parents' death to do without.
"Oh, no. I mean, I've got good resistance. With the wings, for air." He wasn't making any sense and he hated himself right now. He needed to get his groove back. Yesterday. "I mean, my mutation compensates for lower temperatures. And it's not super comfy to wear a shirt. Plus, dancing." He smiled crookedly.
"Right," Ororo agreed, after a beat needed to parse out everything he had been saying. Another beat passed, during which she just looked him over, patient about her own curiosity. These wings really were impressive, and the thought of him flying even more so, regardless of her own abilities. Belatedly, she remembered to introduce herself. "I'm Ororo. Ororo Munroe."
Knowing when he was being looked at, Warren stood a little straighter and fluffed his secondary feathers without even realizing. He just heard the rustling sound, then flushed. Thank god it was dark... apart from the party lights. Shit.
He cleared his throat and held out his free hand. "Nice to meet you, Ororo. Pretty name. Never heard it before."
"It's Edo," Ororo replied, then shook his hand. It wasn't something she was used to doing, but her grip was strong and confident nonetheless. "Nigerian." If she'd noticed the pink staining his cheeks, she wasn't going to say anything about it. Many people were uncomfortable being observed.
"Wow, so, are you from there?" Damn, Nigeria. Warren couldn't think of the capital right now; his father would be so disappointed, but why should today be any different. All he could remember about the country in general was where it was, and that it was where Boko Haram were. Not exactly good for conversation. "Just asking because--you know. Accent."
"I grew up in Cairo," Ororo replied. It wasn't really an answer, but the more complete one took a lot more time. "I have a much better accent in Arabic." If you didn't mind the Egyptian accent, anyway.
"Oh, awesome! I've been there, actually. I mean, I'm sure I didn't see much of it," --because they were there on one of his mother's 'charity trips' which meant she and her other high flying friends stayed in five star hotels, drank a lot of champagne, and talked about how hard up the poor brown people were-- "but I liked it."
"Vacation?" Ororo asked, tilting her head to the side as she watched him.
Warren nodded. All he remembered was his under trying to put him on a camel. That and the pyramids. Vaguely. "But I'd like to go back now I'd actually appreciate it. I was, like. Ten."
"Children have good instinct," Ororo told him, since that had been true, in her experience. Granted, the children she'd most been around had been survivors, like her. "If you liked it then, you'll probably like it now."
"Can't wait to find out." Warren's grin was pretty goofy. She was pretty and had a certain... something. The way she talked and carried herself combined with the punk look. Brilliant. "What about you? First time to New York, or been before?"
"I was born in New York," Ororo answered, an amused hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But we left when I was a few months old. It might as well be my first time."
"Welcome back, then." Warren said with a grin. "I'd say welcome home, but that's kind of presumptuous." He managed not to slur the word. Yay for not being too late in the party yet. "Were you born in the city or...?"
"That's what my birth certificate says," Ororo stated. She had no clue herself, obviously.
"Then you're blessed," Warren said with a chuckle. "New Yorker by birth is the way to be. Don't let the west coast kids fool you. And definitely don't listen to anyone from Jersey."
"I don't feel American," Ororo replied with a one-shouldered shrug. All this talk of geographical rivalry went over her head. The only sort she knew was the sort that was violent, whether it was between street gangs or different ethnic groups. "Let alone like a New Yorker."
"That'd be pretty remarkable, seeing as you don't remember the place," Warren said easily. He hadn't meant anything real by it, just trying to make the new (beautiful) girl welcome. "What do you feel like, then?"
The question demanded consideration, and Ororo took a moment to give it just that. Not so very long ago, she would have said Egyptian. It had been all she had known. But it had never quite fit, and now she knew why. That urge to go south had not been random, and she had found her roots there.
"It's going to sound trite," she warned him, "but I feel like I'm from the world." The line she came from had not stuck to one tribe, one country, for all that they had remained in Africa - until now. It was not her heritage to put limitations on what she was, for all that she had to acknowledge where her roots came from. Still, she knew what her answer sounded like, and she gave Warren a small smile that seemed to say, 'what can you do'.
"Actually, it sounds right," Warren said, impressed that it hadn't sounded trite. You had to have a certain something to make that line work--and Ororo did. In spades. "There's something very of the world about you. Can't put my finger on it, but maybe that's part of the charm."
Ororo remained quiet for a few seconds, clearly trying to gauge him. But she did not let the silence stretch long enough to become awkward, and ended up nodding, a small smile on her lips. "All right. Now," she tilted her head towards the food laid out beside them, which had been her initial goal. "What do you recommend, Warren?"
"There's a lot of good vegan food, if you're into that." Warren was aware that he was being judged, but that tended to bring out the best in him, so he didn't mind at all. Maybe he lifted his chin a little higher and smiled a little more softly. "Personally, I go for the pasta dishes. Pasta salad all day, especially with fresh mozzarella. Hell yeah."
"Let's try that, then," Ororo decided, as easily as that, and moved to get a plate and help herself, with an air of smooth decisiveness about the way she moved.
"Can I grab you a drink?" He offered. "There's regular soda and juice, and then there's the spiked cooler over there. Did you already hear about that?"
"Spiked?" Ororo echoed curiously, glancing back at him as she helped herself to some salad.
Oooh, Terry hadn't gotten to her yet either--good thing Warren grabbed her. "Yeah, that cooler there has vodka in the juice and whiskey in the ginger ale. The other one is totally free of additives, alcoholic or other."
Ah, spiked. Making a mental note of the new word, Ororo took a couple of seconds, as she finished helping herself, to think it over. One glass wouldn't hurt. She straightened up and nodded gratefully at Warren. "I'd love a glass of - spiked - juice. Thank you."
She wasn't sure why he wanted to go and get it for her, but it did not hurt. In the meantime, she could grab a fork and get started on her plate.
Warren hopped to it, elbowing his way to the cooler and rescuing a vodka and cranberry from its depths. She looked like a cranberry kinda woman. He returned to her and said, "Wanna find a place to sit, or are you good standing?"
Ororo had moved a short way from the buffet, so anyone could get to it easily, and she nodded along to her answer to Warren. "Let's sit." Sitting came with a certain commitment to their conversation, however temporary. "Thank you for the drink."
"My pleasure." He led the way to a picnic table and settled on the bench sideways, straddling it, his wings hanging off the back. "So, how'd you end up here? Xavier stage an intervention like he did with me?"
"He came to talk to me," Ororo nodded, and settled on the same bench as him, also sideways, to be facing him. She set her drink down on the table and balanced her plate on one hand to eat. "It made sense to come with him."
"Same," Warren said. "Upping the mutant skills seemed like my best option. What's your party trick?"
"Weather control," Ororo answered after swallowing another forkful. "You? Anything beside the pretty wings?" They were very pretty.
They fluffed at the compliment, rustling softly. Warren settled in, suddenly glad to be off his feet for a few minutes and just chill out with a drink and easy company. "Thanks, and kind of. My eyesight is crazy good so I can see from way above, my bones are hollow so I'm easy to haul around, I'm really strong, proportionately. That kind of stuff.
"Nothing as cool as weather control. Damn. You'd come in handy for rainy day flights."
"You don't like flying in the rain?" Ororo asked with raised eyebrows.
"You're right, I like the rain," Warren said thoughtfully. "It's the lightning that worries me."
"Best have me along if you intend to fly through a thunderstorm, then," Ororo confirmed, after swallowing another bite. She paused in her eating to reach for her drink and have a sip. "I thought drinking alcohol was prohibited, at our age." In this country, obviously.
"It's completely illegal, but American teens are nothing if not resourceful." Warren raised his bottle in salute. "Of course, the Professor is a telepath, so he's either willing to let us get away with it as long as we're not total idiots about it--at least we're here and not stumbling around in the city somewhere--or he's going to bust our asses in about fifteen minutes."
"He is a telepath," Ororo agreed. "I'm sure that if he was going to bust this up, he would have before it happened." She paused for another bite, then added, "He seems... dedicated," she settled on, "that we should be teenagers, not just mutants." Or so it had felt, from the long conversation they had had before she agreed to come here.
"I think you're right," Warren said, staring thoughtfully into his drink. "And that's awesome. A lot of us wouldn't get the chance to do the teenager thing without him." Warren had started early, maybe, but now he was on that list too.
"What is your story, Warren?" Ororo asked curiously, watching him as she kept eating.
"Spoiled brat turned obvious mutant," Warren said easily. "Grew up in New York society and New England boarding schools. Went superhero for a few months. Now..." he gestured around them.
"Superhero?" Ororo echoed, now even more curious.
Warren ran a hand through his hair, wings ruffling in a rare self-conscious moment. "Uh, yeah, in Central Park. I did this whole Avenging Angel thing for a few months. It was great, but I could use more training."
"What did you do?" Once her curiosity was piqued, it was difficult for Ororo to rein the questions in.
"Eh, stopped some muggers and would be assailants. Some actual in-the-process assaults too," he admitted. "Also got a few cats out of trees. You know, neighborhood superhero stuff."
The part about the cats made her smile, amused, and she nodded to his conclusion, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Your neighborhood was lucky to have you. And you were lucky to manage, untrained."
"Yeah, that's the truth," Warren looked slightly sheepish, but his grin was blazing again in seconds. "But that's why I'm here. Well, that and it's nice just to be somewhere I don't have to hide these guys." He chucked a thumb in the direction of his wings.
"Hiding them would be a shame," Ororo confirmed, smiling as she looked at the 'guys' in question.
"Right?" Warren grinned right back, and his wings fluffed a little before resettling. "Unfortunately, my parents don't think the same way, so for now, this is the only place I can be me."
"For now," Ororo echoed, both statement and question.
"I wasn't made for hiding," Warren said with a chuckle. He had no idea how he was gonna do it... but someday, he was. "There's a certain inevitability to the final destination for me. Just a question of what path I take. You feel me?"
"I think so," Ororo confirmed, amused by the phrasing of that question. She made a mental note to remember it. She smiled hopefully. "I look forward to seeing the paths each of us will walk."
"I'll drink to that."/cut>
