|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 13, 2009 22:38:07 GMT -5
::Pietro nodded a single time to acknowledge that, and he was off. He ducked into the dressing room, and following her instructions, found both the bag, and within it, her coat. He ran out to meet her, returning to her side not more than a second later.:: "Here. Put it on."
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 13, 2009 22:44:58 GMT -5
She reached out tentatively- sometimes she passed through objects, sometimes not, at least these days. Her hand didn't go through the coat, and so she took it, and put it on. Her form flickered, solidified briefly, then turned transparent again. She was drawing stares from some of the backstage people, including a couple of the actual cast who were waiting to go on stage to finish the show.
Her eyes closed, and her whole body tensed, although no one could have been able to tell in the form she was in now. Her body phased in and out again, then finally reverted to it's solid form. She looked at Pietro, her face pinched in concentration and the fatigue it took to maintain this form even with the help of the coat. "I have to get home."
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 13, 2009 22:45:58 GMT -5
"I am taking you home," ::Pietro reminded her. He had already said as much a moment ago.:: "Come."
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 20:35:46 GMT -5
She remembered that he had, but the words hadn't been so much a slip of her memory as a plea of desperation. "I know, I just..." She stopped, and this time there were a few tears creeping past her self control. "I know." She put up the hood on her coat, took different shoes out of the bag he'd brought and put them on; stilettos weren't made for quick escapes. She'd return for her other things later.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 20:37:56 GMT -5
"Come," ::Pietro repeated, and he began walking, providing a physical barrier should they run into anyone during their exit.::
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 20:39:04 GMT -5
She swallowed and followed him closely, but not close enough to touch.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 20:40:42 GMT -5
::They exited through a side entrance, which led into an alley. It took Pietro a second to orient himself, in relation to the Acura, and not the proper exit for the theatre. After doing so, he continued to walk with her, encouraging her to take the interior route on the sidewalk; he would block of traffic with his body mass.::
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 20:48:53 GMT -5
She walked on the interior as he encouraged, knowing he was being protective even if it might not do any good in the long run. At the moment, her concentration was on holding her form, mixed with worry. If she changed forms and couldn't change back, the people around her were the most at risk...including him. Particularly if someone brushed into her if she changed. She couldn't withdraw into the coat, and she and the Professor had worked out a theory regarding this power, one that she didn't want to test. Mary had gone insane possessing people who didn't want to be. If Typhoid took someone over without their willing acceptance of it, it could hurt them...or her. With Rogue she'd been lucky, and she knew it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 20:50:16 GMT -5
::They finally arrived at the car, not soon enough in Pietro's opinion given her anxiety, and he unlocked the doors with the key. He went around to hold her door open; it was habit.::
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 21:03:02 GMT -5
She got in, still keeping a safe distance.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 21:08:37 GMT -5
::Pietro shut her door, and then climbed into the driver's seat. He locked the doors, fastened his safety belt, and started the engine. He navigated them out of the parking space and onto the street.:: "We are going to get home as quickly as possible."
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 21:13:14 GMT -5
"I know." Her voice was very quiet, and her eyes were closed, though not in sleep. It was in concentration. She needed to calm down.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 21:14:46 GMT -5
::Pietro would need to use his knowledge of the area, of shortcuts and backstreets, to avoid traffic, as he could not move this car at his usual speed. He was calm, because he had to be.:: "We can call Uncle if you want; I have a telephone."
|
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Oct 14, 2009 21:22:14 GMT -5
She thought about it for a second, finally nodded. "All right."
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Oct 14, 2009 21:23:16 GMT -5
::Pietro reached into his pocket and withdrew the cellular he used primarily for emergencies. He turned it on and then passed it over to her.:: "The number is under 'Uncle.'"
|
|
