tigerundercover

"Computer," Raven said, as she stepped into the empty, gridded space that was a deactivated holosuite. "Begin program 'Raven Three'." She looked back over her shoulder at Kanan as the holographic environment sprang to life around them. "I picked up the naming conventions from the previous owner. If you end up designing your own program, you can name it whatever you like, so long as there isn't already a file called that in the system."

'Raven Three' was a mid-20th-century-Earth simulation involving a provincial European town, complete with quaint stone-and-brick architecture and a central square built around an old cathedral. Simulated humans strolled past as they went about their imaginary daily business. A man rode by on a bicycle, its basket containing a single grocery bag with a bottle of wine and a long baguette sticking out. Birds sang, and a cool breeze blew through, ruffling everyone's hair and sending one young woman's bonnet fluttering away.

Everything would change when the Fire Nation holographic Klingons attacked. . . .

[For him as is mentioned in the narrative!]

Raven kind of wished Kathy was still around to huddle up in the dark with, just now, but otherwise was telling herself this hurricane -- sharkicane -- whatever -- was No Big Deal. Sure, it was extremely loud, and probably really dangerous, but she was avoiding the windows and staying nice and cozy in a little nest inside the pantry in the kitchen, munching through the hot pockets she'd managed to heat up before the power went out and reading a book by lantern light. She'd waited out plenty of storms in less secure positions while hanging out in Kathy's world, and she was pretty sure shark-bites were easier to survive than zombie ones. She was all set.

Then came a tremndous *CRASH* that shook the entire building, raining dry- and non-perishable goods down on her head and leaving the whole pantry feeling like it was slightly askew. The storm noise had suddenly increased by several decibels, but she could hear shouting and -- power tools? -- somewhere downstairs. She carefully opened the pantry door, and watched a half dozen apples go rolling out into the kitchen across what was supposed to be a perfectly level floor. She plated up, keeping her bodyweight low, and crept across the apartment to the front door.

Other than also feeling slightly askew, the hallway looked perfectly normal. She made her way over to the window that overlooked the street, feeling more and more precarious as she went, and peered out.

The entire front of the diner appeared to be gone. An extremely large, thrashing tail lashed at the remaining support posts and broken glass, then jerked a few times, and lay still. The diner's main cook stepped through the destruction and into the lashing wind, coated in shark blood, and shook an electric carving knife -- how he was powering it, she wouldn't venture to guess -- into the sky.

The floor creaked distressingly under Raven, and she hurried back towards the side of the apartment that wasn't currently hovering unsupported over a dead shark. "I totally should have just crashed Kathy's vacation in Mexico."

She shot Kathy a quick heads-up text, slipped small and agile out the back window, and when she hit the ground, shifted into something enormous and heavily armored before venturing out into the storm.

She was going to need a bigger boat better hiding place.

[ooc: establishy! Luke's hath now been destroyed!]

There wasn't a lot to scavenge in an empty city in the middle of winter, but Raven still wasn't ready to give up on the causeway just yet. Fandom would pull through for her -- somehow. She didn't believe in much anymore, but she had to believe in that just a little bit longer.

Besides, the way her life was going, it would open back up the moment she gave up and left.

She'd managed to clear out a few local exes in the last couple days, enough that she felt confident enough dozing next to her small fire. She kept it lit for light more than warmth, in case the road just decided to fade back into existence in the middle of the overcast night. Plus, it meant she had just enough light to practice making shark-tooth faces at herself in a little shard of mirror.

She'd learned how to make her own fun.

[ooc: For those expected. THE JOURNEY IS NEARLY OVER!]

It took some looking, but the Mighty Dragon finally found her, dark, small, and solitary, her scales making her look more like his namesake than her own. She stood on the edge of a rooftop near the edge of what used to be Koreatown, watching something burning in the distance. A lot of LA was on fire, but she seemed interested in building more than others. She didn't look up when he landed, just kept staring out over the chaos of the city, her expression blank.

"I dropped her off at the Observatory," he said, giving her the same update he'd just given Gorgon. "Set up a movie for her. She seemed to like it." Her expression didn't change. "She won't get into trouble."

She nodded once, still didn't look at him.

"Did you find her family?"

"They're dead." Her voice was low, not quite monotone. "Sarah went fast. Head injury." She lifted one hand, turning it over in the dim light of the approaching dawn, as though she was examining her nails. "I took care of her parents."

This girl was all of 18 years old, the Mighty Dragon reminded himself. The same age as Banzai. They were going to be roommates in college or something. Now she talked about killing her best friend's parents as if it was taking care of the dry cleaning. He reached for something to say, ended up with "I'm sorry," and faintly hated himself for it.

She looked over at him, at least, her gold eyes flashing, her face crumpling from expressionless to devastated and then hardening into something that wasn't quite rage. "Promise me you'll take care of her."

The Mighty Dragon shook his head, confused. The girl had been arguing against taking Banzai out. Even if she'd changed her mind. . . . "Gorgon --"

She snarled, her teeth shifting momentarily into points. If he'd been someone else, he'd probably have taken a step back at the least, if not run off on the spot. "Him too," she said. "You and Gorgon and all you other damn -- heroes." She spat the word, then took a breath. Her features literally softened, and she looked like a blue teenager again, instead of a raging beast. "I mean look out for her. Keep her safe."

The Mighty Dragon nodded slowly. "Of course we will. So will you." She might not like the term just now, but he'd seen her fight, alongside Banzai and Gorgon and on her own. She deserved the name as much as any of them.

She smiled and shook her head. "There's a school outside Baltimore," she said. "Where Banzai and I met. We're practically normal there. If there's anyone who can help -- who can fix this, they're there. I'm going to go get them."

The Mighty Dragon shook his head. "The east coast is as wrecked as we are." She shrugged, stepping up onto the edge of the building. The Mighty Dragon braced himself, readying to catch her if she jumped. "It's three thousand miles away!"

Mystique turned to look back at him over her shoulder and smiled one more time. "Guess I'd better get started, then."

And where there was a blue teenager there was a blueblack bird that cawed at him and leaped into the air. The Mighty Dragon watched as she caught an updraft and floated effortlessly off towards the rising moon.

"I did not know she could do that."

* * *

[not long later, on the edge of San Bernadino]

The raven dropped down to the roof of an empty, burned out strip mall, panting, then shifted bonelessly into a blue scaled girl. She flopped over onto her back, chest heaving, and stared up into the cloudless sky.

"Okay," she gasped, when she'd finally gotten enough breath back to speak. "Not flying -- all the way -- to Baltimore." She erupted into hysterical giggles and flopped onto her side when the effort made her nauseous. "Boy!" She squeaked to no one at all. "Are my arms tired!"

[ooc: NFB, NFI, all that. Stay tuned to this space for further adventures of Mystique in zombpocalyptic America in the coming months!]

Raven didn't have much by way of clothes, but after two years living in one room, she did have plenty of other stuff that needed packing up. Unlike some other folks who were packing and cleaning out their dorm rooms this week, though, Raven was only going two floors up.

She and Kathy were very soon to be actual for real roommates! She was going to have a roommate who was unlikely to just up and leave quietly in the night in the middle of the semester!

So this packing session was anything but gloomy. She was bopping around the room, playing a new song she'd heard on the radio full blast, and occasionally pausing to rock out or punch her fist in the air.

"I love me! Gonna love myself,
no I don't need anybody else!
Hey! Gonna love myself,
no I don't need anybody else!
Any time day or night!"

She'd apologize if someone came by complaining about the noise. Then probably try to make them dance with her, too.

[Door and post are open!]

Raven had been planning to go to the party tonight. Her computer was even open to a page of dress inspirations as she'd worked on revving herself up for it. She'd been feeling very anti-social, lately. Skittish, almost. Occasionally wishing her power was to turn actually invisible, instead of blending into a crowd.

She'd dropped some weight, too. Not that anyone else would have noticed, since, she always filled herself back out when she shifted into her daily disguise, but standing in front of her full length mirror in her natural blue state, she could see the outline of the base of her ribs and the jut of her own hipbones in a way she hadn't been able to since --

Well, since she'd moved in with Charles.

She should tell someone. She knew that. Weird things were happening on the island involving weird things happening to people, and this was, for her, very weird. But talking involved drawing attention to herself, and drawing attention to herself had started to lead to hyperventilating and the urge to hide under the bed. Which she'd actually done once or twice, already, mostly when she thought Chuck might walk in on her unexpectedly. The underside of her bed was surprisingly cozy.

That's where she was right now, in fact. The laptop on her bed was open to a page with a sweet, slinky number, and Raven was underneath, skin shifted several shades darker to blend into the shadows, wondering how she might get into and out of the common room for food without being spotted by anyone.

Her eyes spotted the vent, and she smiled. It wouldn't be comfortable -- stretching herself out that thin would take a lot of effort -- but it was doable. She could get all over the dorms, that way, with no one the wiser. She rolled her shoulders -- and then shifted them out of existence as she elongated her body and grabbed the vent screen. Once she had the cover off, she shifted fully, becoming a long, heavy blue snake, and crawled her way in.

Yes.

This would do nicely.

[ooc: fiiiiiiiiinally getting around to doing this, holy hell. Raven has slowly and mostly off-screen changed into an AU in which she was never adopted by Charles, and in the grand Marvel tradition of Wolverine, mostly has gone feral. Closed to IC interaction, obvs, but if anyone wants to find objects missing from their rooms, especially food, feel free! If you'd want to play out something ICly, having Raven sneak in and out, ping in OOCly and we can figure it out.]

Raven had been having a pampering day in, today: sleeping in, a long relaxing shower, a mud mask, home manicure, and now a pedicure. The shops of the future had miles of beauty products she'd never seen before, and was much too excited to try. She lounged on her bed, rubbing lotion on one foot, the other dangling idly over the side -- a bit too close to the air vent.

She'd managed to dodge irony for a whole week now, and irony -- or a the very least, a gremlin -- was all set to change that.

The gremlin darted out, slavering excitedly, and chomped down hard on Raven's ankle. She let out a shriek and yanked her leg up, but not before the venom started working its way through her system.

What happens when a shapeshifter gets hit with a bite-full of hallucinogenic venom?

Anyone happening by might hear the sound of a dog scrabbling at the door, huffing grumpily to itself while it worked out how to turn the knob. The same someone would moments later see said dog, a brown and white mutt with a charming red scarf around his neck, sauntering out into the hallway.

The room he'd found himself in was nice and all, but Dodger was a dog of the streets, and he had a musical number out there somewhere to perform.

[ooc: establishy, transformation NFB, please. In the name of irony, Raven has been gremlin bit and turned herself into a talking/singing dog. As you do.]