<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/Ryw8S5q.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Laura Kinney | Wolverine<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Dorm room shared between Laura, Rahne and Antoinette<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 1st, 2017, late morning<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Rahne Sinclaire, Netty | Marionette<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Changing into her new uniform... (Non-sexual nudity)<br/><hr/><br/>The mention of breakfast turned Laura's head, some of her visible enthusiasm lost and replaced with longing and hunger. Sometimes Rahne Sinclaire puzzled her, the way she interfered with Laura's things and tried to take care of her. Years ago she might have met Rahne with hostility, demanding to know what her deal was, but as she acclimated to Xavier's school, she slowly began to trust people more and more. Just because she wasn't openly suspicious about Rahne didn't mean her friend wasn't any less confusing... Still, she was grateful for the heaping plate of potatoes, eggs and sausage prepared for her.<strong>"Appreciate it, Red."</strong><br/><br/>The Wolverine uniform revealed to her roommate, Rahne had a flurry of questions for her, and Laura's face hurt from smiling so hard. It wasn't often the two girls found common ground, but those moments of connection were fantastic, and Laura, in one breath, stammered out her answers.<strong>"Jean Grey, she likes designing and sewing stuff. You should ask her to make you one, just like this, but something more your color,"</strong>she teased, though Laura wasn't color-coordinated enough to know Rahne's colors, if she had any. Laura thought the blue and yellow spandex looked neat because... It was what Logan wore. For her, it was not about looking good, but stepping into the shoes of her father, and making him proud.<br/><br/>The young mutant's gaze went long as she spent a moment thinking about Logan, and how much she missed him. The Logan in her school, the history teacher, he was... Too different. From another time, and though he remembered Laura and her life, she didn't remember him. Even though he acted much the same as her father, he was changed. It wasn't good enough for her, and she spent as little time around the old man as she could manage.<br/><br/><strong>"Never had like, a code name or anything before. Yeah, call me Wolverine."</strong>Her voice was a low whisper, and lacked the gruffness that typically inflected her tone. The somberness passed after a moment, a creeping grin rising on her lips once more, and she gave a couple shallow nods as Rahne wanted to see Laura try the uniform on.<br/><br/>She stood off of her bed, and began to undress. At first, it was innocuous, kicking off her boots and peeling away her socks, nothing that would make Rahne think twice.<strong>"Technically I haven't tried it on yet, but Jean said she took some kind of... Image of me in her head, and made sure it would fit."</strong>Laura shrugged as if she didn't care to know the specifics, and then her shrugging shoulders raised as she reached her arms up to grip the collar of her t-shirt and began to pull it up and over her head. Laura's upper half was exposed save for her bra, a plain, ugly athletic top that she'd been reluctantly made to wear as her breasts grew larger as she became an adult. Her arms, shoulders, stomach were all strong and well-defined with muscle, her young body weaponized at a young age and maintained by constant activity.<br/><br/>Laura wasn't on guard for Rahne's horrified expression, staring at her feet as she methodically stripped in front of her roommate. She hesitated before unsnapping her bra, wanting to see how comfortable her uniform was without it. Next, the mutant grabbed the draw-string tied at the front of her shorts and yanked until the knot came loose; The waist-band slackened and she allowed her shorts to shimmy down her legs, opting to keep her panties on.<br/><br/><strong>"Hmm, okay, how..."</strong>Laura grumbled, holding her costume up in front of her, glancing momentarily at Rahne before she began to pull the top of the uniform over her heat. Her arms were halfway into her sleeves when she sensed someone approaching their door; Laura froze, sniffing the air loudly, trying to determine the source of an unfamiliar scent. She might have popped her claws if they hadn't been in the safety of the Xavier school, but a low, throaty growl rumbled from her as she turned to stare at the door, watching apprehensively with her uniform halfway pulled over her head.