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When Twyla Ashby used her powers (most of the time) the act of calming down and letting herself go gave the girl an intense sense of peace. This time was no different, all of the sights and sounds and built up emotion melted off the girl as her powers slid across her body and across Gawain and Emerald. She'd done her part, now all they had to wait for was the reaction of ye old angry mob.

It worked--the guards were fooled by her camouflage and one came closer and appeared to be intent on opening up their cage. When Gawain squeezed her hand Twyla returned the gesture and tried to keep her face from breaking out into a nervous smile that would make her mouth momentarily visible. Gawain let go first, after telling the girl to stay hidden. He lunged at the guard and kicked him, sending both of the sprawling. He then went on to take out the second nearest man. After that Emerald was gone too, tearing through the cage and into the large crowd.

Twyla stayed hidden.

Emerald attacked the mob, through various means, before using her other powers to send a wave of water crashing around the burning mound and the villagers (or whatever they were called). The fire was out but the witch was still standing on the pile of wood. Twyla watched, unmoving, waiting for the wolf girl to let down Susan and get the fish off of her head. She was surprised when she didn't, but rather made her way back to Gawain.

Feeling highly inadequate and wondering why no one was currently focused on the witch at the witch burning, Twyla stayed hidden.

And then she moved, walked actually. The area around the cage was devoid of moving guards and from where she stood near the bars she could see the path that Em had cut through the crowd. All of the focus was on the threats at the party, from what the blond could see so she did what any self respecting Hansel or Gretel would do, she went off in the direction of a witch. It was slow going, as she tried to keep herself masked as much as possible, but since the wolf girl had made a very nice path she wasn't really payed much attention to as she walked closer and closer to the woodpile. Her mind was shutting down all unnecessary worrying so that it could focus on one person--Susan. Getting to Susan was more important than hiding and being scared at the moment, so that was what Twyla was attempting.

((Hope this works, if not let me know. ))

It was kind of a shame, wasn't it? History class would always be there--it was history after all and how many times did one get to see a fellow student transform into a mythical beast? It's not like her grades were like to suffer too much if she missed one class and one quiz...Dangerous trains of thoughts departed and stationed inside of Twyla's young mind. A quieter part of her tried to silence the mutinous thoughts--but to no avail, they were in full swing. She had been trying really hard lately, maybe that entitled her to a bit of a break--after all, she was spending most of her extra time on class, why not take away some of that class time and make things a bit more even?

Before the blond had decided whether she was going to skip class or not the winged boy had opened one of the windows and removed the screen. "Uh..." And then he was gone, out into the air. "Sure..." Twyla walked over to window and peered out, just in time to see Carrick swoop around the grounds. Something brown floated into the window and at first the girl thought it was a leaf but then she picked it up. It was a feather, and it had obviously come from the boy's wing. "Huh." The girl turned from the window as the bell for class rang. Great... She almost began hurrying over to her table and her things there and then she took another look at the golden brown feather. "Screw it." She mumbled, hurrying over to her things and hastily shoving them into her bag.

Less than five minutes later Twyla Ashby was half running down the stairs that led to the front door from the girls rooms, hastily shoving her arms through an over-sized green sweatshirt. She'd deposited her things in her room and managed not to get caught heading outside instead of to class. A minute after she hit the foyer she was on the Mansion grounds, standing near one of the windows of the first floor of the library.

It was vaguely exhilarating, skipping class, not that the girl planned on making a habit of it. Twyla's breath was coming in excited bursts from all of her hurrying as she pressed her back against the wall of her school. She wondered to herself if most kids that skipped at other schools stayed on school grounds when doing stuff--she highly doubted this for some reason. Brown eyes scanned the skies and Twyla weighed the merits of attempting to flag down the gryphon boy. She had no idea how to do such.

((I hope this is okay, if not let me know. ))

"Oh, I'm some kind of friend." Twyla mumbled, the anger at the situation making a cameo appearance in her voice. She readjusted herself on the couch again, unable to find a comfortable position. Finally she settled on flipping herself over so that her legs were on the top cushions of the couch and her hair was dangling down, almost touching the floor as she sat upside down. It felt kinda cool, her hair, as it hung down in a golden and pink sheet behind her. To calm herself, Twyla occupied herself with tangling her fingers in the locks, half knotting and half braiding random sections of her hair as she simmered down from full boil to a much more docile and calm state.

"I'm not being much help--I'm saying stuff that makes sense but it's not like it's easy to just ignore someone or make them want you back. If it were me I'd not make contact for a few days." Her tone brightened as she found a better train of thought. "And when he did call I'd only let the messages be brief--be kinda a b*tch about it, like all aloof and sexy and sh*t." Swearing showed she was excited, since it wasn't something Twyla did often. "And then I'd talk to him in person about everything, get ourselves sorted out before telling him if I wanted to continue whatever with him or not--maybe wait a few more days for that. Think like 'Trials of Fire' or something, if he can't take the heat he's not worth it and it's not meant to be or whatever."

"But that's just me." The blood was rushing to her head as she sat, but the girl didn't really care. For a moment she wondered if she believed if people were meant to be or not, if there were certain someones that you just were meant to meet. Was she meant to meet Maya that day? Did that make any sense? Did it apply to all the people you met or just the people you end up dating or whatever? The combination of thoughts and her rapidly rushing blood was giving the girl a headache, so she sat back up. Stars danced before her eyes but she shot up from the couch anyway. "This situation calls for chocolate. I'll be back" She muttered before rushing out of the living room towards the stash in her room.

It was Spring. Glorious, warm, snowless and Spring. In celebration of this Twyla Ashby had shed her heavy layers of Winter clothing and swapped the jeans and sweaters for tank tops and shorts. Luckily, this was not hard as she'd just been sent a box of Spring/Summer clothes. Some of the things in the box had been old, like her oldest sister wore them when she was a tween old--but that was just the way her family rolled. You keep what you can keep so that you don't have to buy. Some of the older tops and bottoms had questionable colors and designs on them that reminded Twyla much too much of the things her mother had bought for her when she went through her girly phase. Shudder shudder. Terrible memories of bad make up and pretending to be obsessed with boys surfaced at the sight of them.

Funny thing, they were from the short span of time when the girl was thirteen until she started high school. Waste not want not and all that, especially if they still fit you in most places. There was a novelty to the sequined shorts and the graphic tanks that said obnoxious things like 'Queen Bee' and 'Spoiled' that she almost liked. So in memory of Springs Past she was decked out in some of the most awful articles from the box. Yes, Twyla Ashby was walking around the Mansion proudly in pink shorts with light purple flowers stitched in and embellished with sequins and an almost tight green tank top that in bright purple glitter proclaimed 'PRINCESS' across her bust. She almost liked the color pallet with her hair, not that she would ever admit it. The outfit was a joke, meant to be fun and nostalgic, even if it made her look kind of crazy and almost a little juvenile.

The 'princess' in question was hanging out restlessly in the living room, trying to decide what she wanted to do that day--it was a rare empty day for the young mutant and she was having difficulty deciding whether or not she wanted to watch the lame MTV programming that was dancing half naked across the screen she was only kinda watching. Outside was a nice option, not that she knew what she'd do once she got outside. Maybe a book would be a good companion to the sunshine and the lack of snow. But she really didn't feel like getting up...

So Princess Twyla readjusted herself on the couch cushions and decided that if she felt the urge to move she'd get around to it...eventually.

Twyla Ashby had just gotten a package from home--a large-ish box full of spring and summer clothes and nothing else. It was cheaper to pack things sans bubble wrap, so the whole pile of slightly worn hand-me-down jean shorts and tank tops was wrinkled from the box being slightly squished on its journey. Wrinkled clothes just would not do, not with shorts weather rapidly approaching and Twyla's preference for sleeveless shirts even when temperatures weren't much the 40 degrees and sunlight was hazy. All of that put the blond in a position of either needing an iron or a dryer--she didn't have an iron in her room and she didn't really have time to do the whole box by hand anyway, this left her in need of a dryer. Luckily, she knew exactly were one could be found.

It didn't take much for the girl to gather up the clothing into her lime green basket or for her to twist her blond and pink hair up into a messy bun. Her clothing was comfy that day, a pair of sweat-pant shorts and a loose fitting tee with the collar cut off, her clothing matched her mood. The blond half bounced half danced the halls from her room the laundry room--the headphones in her ears were pumping fun dance music from the 80s (Twyla's personal favorite) and she was jamming out to Madonna, almost dropping her tiny laundry basket in the process, when she entered the doorway.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry." She apologized after almost tripping over the boy that had also decided to occupy the laundry room at the same time and his brown something on the floor. The girl just manage not to step in the something, that upon closer inspection, was apparently mud. If she hadn't been living at the Mansion for as long as she had the girl would be concerned that someone had dirt in the laundry--the back of her mind just attributed it to living in a mutant school. It was a living hazard, she supposed--like watching where you walked so you didn't get tripped by super-human-fast kids and braiding prehensile hair for your best friend.

After the green basket was readjusted on her hip a free hand went up to push the bangs out of her eyes that had escaped from her bun when she'd almost fallen flat on her face. After sight was reestablished hearing was accomplished by turning off the white MP3 player that was hiding in her pocket. "Are you using the--" Brown eyes took an even closer look at the pile of earth on the floor. "Are your powers earth based? That's so cool!" Active powers were always intriguing to the blond who often wished that she herself had a less passive power. This fascination was evident in her face, which had become quizzical as she knelt down to look at the lumpy pile. Laundry was forgotten after it was dropped on the floor. Her face got a bit close to the mud before a blush tinged her cheeks. Pulling back she apologized for the second time. "I'm sorry, I've just never seen anyone do something like that before." Another head flip to remove her pesky bangs from her eyes.

"I'm Twyla by the way." She added after a moment, smiling. It seemed the least she could do was give the boy her name after going so far into his personal domain.


((OOC: I guessed on his location--hope you don't mind. Let me know if there is an issue and I'll fix it. ))

Twyla was glad that her suggestion was considered worthy. She waited patiently for Henri to retrieve her purse from the floor as her mind whirred. Little creep--I can't believe I didn't see this coming. I mean, I don't know the kid and I've never met him but I'm supposed to warn her against this kind of thing, right? I just can't believe I didn't see this coming... Twyla was still berating herself for her lack of information on the boy and Henri's affections for him as they walked down the hall and settled on the couch in the living room. [/i]Deep breaths, just focus. Anything that happened to Henri tonight is not your fault, it's his. Van's the d-bag in this situation.[/i] She had to remind herself.

Twyla tried to smile to make the situation less serious. "I personally, would have gone with the shake--it would probably make a much more of a lasting impression." The smile turned into a smirk to mirror Henri's. Sometimes that girl was too nice, it sounded like the boy deserved worse than he got. 'Just for fun?' Who says that!? Twyla tried to imagine herself in the same situation and failed miserably--she was torn between epic yelling and walking out without saying a word. She liked the possible images evoked by a dramatic reaction but couldn't see herself executing either option well. I'm too lukewarm... The girl sighed inwardly.

Her hands were worrying a pillow as they sat there--just because she couldn't picture herself b*tching out a boy in a McDonald's did not mean that she could not b*tch one out on her cell phone. It was a very tempting prospect. The pillow clutching was a preventative measure from her hands pulling out the tiny phone from her pocket. "That was an abrupt change of subject." Twyla commented on Henri's question. "Nothing new here, I mostly just wandered around while you were gone--it was kinda nice. I was just chilling, you know?" Twyla shook her head as if to wave her own words away.

"So you really liked him that much?" The blond asked meekly, trying to get the whole picture of the situation.

"Exactly." Twyla nodded vigorously as it seemed that at least a little bit of what she was saying was sinking in. "Like I said before, you're unique and your situation is never going to match perfectly with some old book anyway." Brown eyes rolled and she smiled a bright smile. It was slightly hard to fake contempt at a book, but the blond managed it and managed to make it sound natural, at least to her. "You never know what someone is capable of or what is true about them just by reading anyway--you'll figure it out." Because that's what everyone did, right? They figured out themselves--humans and mutants alike. Mutants just had a bit tougher time sorting out the kinks sometimes and this situation was a testament to that.

Another head nod and a smirk that mirrored the boy's own. "For sure." A cocky head movement went with the phrase, although through her accent and the way she moved her lips it came out sounding more like 'fur sherrr' with the o and u turned into more e like vowels. Twyla sincerely hoped this was true for Carrick, it would totally suck to realize that you were a monogamous being after you just...whatevered with some sucky excuse for a person.

"Actually I do...have class, I mean. I need to get my stuff and all that." She shrugged like it was no big deal that she was running out of precious hallway time. "Worst case scenario I'll sneak into the back, I can be very inconspicuous when I want to be." This time her smirk was broad as the girl relaxed so that her torso and most of her lower half was the same color as the library. She'd been standing in the same place for a while, so it didn't take much for her body to go camouflaged. As if I've ever been truant...at this school at least. Cue an internal eye roll. You're going to freak out when you're late, Miss Manners.

"Of course." Twyla replied to the thanks on instinct, her eyebrows and brown eyes crinkling in slight confusion as if it were strange that he was thanking her. He hadn't given her a reason not to be nice to him and that meant a lot in the blond's book. His next words really confused the girl but also sent a whirl of emotion inside her. Flying? Twyla had only ever been in a plane once, it was a small engine that a friend of her family used for surveying, and that was when she was very young. She'd been crammed in between one of her sisters and her mother and hadn't gotten to see much out of the windows. It was an experience that she could barely remember. Was he offering to take her flying? That had to be a big deal, being so close and all that. Excitement sparked in the girl's eyes for a moment as she thought about the prospect. "No, I can't say I have." She finally replied with a grin.