AN Hi all! I'm a bit upset. Waaaaay back in chapter three, I went a bit nuts with all the characters I had as students in the first year I need your OC's. Please?
Betsy was in the library during break. Next to her was Anna. "Watcha reading?" Anna asked. Betsy showed her friend the cover. "Hunger Games? Third one's the best." Anna nodded.
"No spoilers." Betsy glared.
"You know me." Anna smiled as she snuggled back into her bean bag with her book: Fifty Shades of Grey. Betsy smiled; Anna didn't seem the type for romance books but its fame had brought many a fan. Which was, of course, something Betsy was not.
Professor Logan's boxing gym. He'd somewhat grown closer to the X-Men during the summer but he still called his role 'the babysitter'. Betsy was raining down blows on her bag. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a little girl with brown hair and eyes darker than that one chocolate cake Scott had tried and failed miserably to bake on Remy's birthday. She allowed herself a chuckle. The little girl had her head in a book and one leg draped over the other. She must have been one of the new first years. It had only been two days since term had started. The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Betsy knew the girl would become quite the looker someday. The girl looked at Betsy and Betsy looked back. She could see something in the girl. Anger and rage. Like-
"Hey," Betsy called to her, "Do you know a Professor Logan?"
"Si. (Yes.)" The girl nodded.
"Spanish, huh? That's cute." Betsy whispered before going back to the bag of sand in front of her.
"Aren't there better places to read than the gym?" Betsy asked.
"Sí, pero me resulta extrañamente relajante aquí. (Yes, but I find it strangely relaxing in here.)" The girl muttered.
"Fair. I'm not too good with Spanish, I'll be honest. That's why we have Jean. She's not bilingual really, but she can get the gist of it by reading your mind. Can you understand me?"
"Si. (Yes.)" The girl nodded again. The girl placed a bookmark into her thick, hardback book and placed it neatly into her bag. She left the bag on her bench and pushed herself up. She closed her fists and two claws tore their way through her knuckles on each hand and she set to work on her poor punching bag. In minutes, it was reduced to shreds and sand by her feet and the Spanish girl was coughing at the sand in her mouth and nose. The girl nodded stiffly to Betsy before picking up her bag and leaving.
AAN I am so sorry for the delay. First it was my birthday, then we went on holiday for a week and then I was literally at my friend's for a night and I AM TIRED. Cool? Daredevil isn't getting an update. And for context in the next chapter, read Daredevil: The Man Without Fear. Last time I'm asking.