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emberbcrn​:

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On most days, Jean would awaken early and go about her more minor errands before setting off to do the daily infirmary rounds. Today, however, had been different. She had woken a little later than usual, mind settled by the gentle astral plane conversation she had managed to have with Ororo. She was coming to the Mousehole and was doing so today. So Jean had went straight to the infirmary to check over the few patients collected, reorganise her supplies and take stock. With that done, Jean surged back to the Mousehole, determined to be the first person to greet Ororo when she finally touched down. And then came the gentle, familiar thrum of Ororo’s mind down their psychic link. She had established it not long after she had left for Genosha, in the wake of Ororo deciding to stay at the school. Now, it felt as easy as breathing to reach back down that connection.

Ororo, she responded in kind, her friend’s voice like the softest cloudburst against the edges of her psyche. Sure enough, she could sense Ororo’s presence, closer than ever before, and Jean smiled softly against the maple-sweet flood of joy. The great joy of telekinesis was that she was able to kick off from the ground hard, letting her abilities flare and surge underneath her, carrying her up into the skies to meet Ororo halfway. The resulting hug could have been a thunderous collide if not for Jean screeching to a halt just in time to throw her arms around her friend. “I’ve missed you so, so much,” she whispered in return.

-

It was Jean’s voice that she heard first, engulfing each corner of her mind with that rivalry of fierceness and warmth that Ororo associated distinctly with her oldest friend. It had amazed her - and irritated poor Emma - how easily Jean had managed to reach across such distances, but now those distances had been erased, Jean’s telepathic presence was even more arresting, maybe even stronger than she remembered from before the Accords. It did not surprise her, as ever since Ororo had known her, Jean had seemed to grow steadily more powerful before her eyes, but she did feel an ache of regret at having missed so much of her life. The separation, though now over, had been one of the most painful sacrifices she had made. 

It could be put out of mind now, with Jean herself coming after her mental presence, flying towards Ororo in what felt like an impossible vision, a dream. The solidness of the embrace convinced Ororo that this was real. Her arms wrapped tightly around Jean, an overwhelming happiness rising up that was only half her own. Their minds were still connected enough that she found it difficult to distinguish between the bleed of their emotions. That again gave her pause at how strong Jean’s powers had become, needing to make the effort to pull herself away from it. She squeezed Jean tightly to ground herself back in the physical world, forgetting the brief concern she’d felt. “Oh, your mind is a beautiful place to be, Jean Grey, but it can’t compare to seeing you again,” Ororo said, joyful tears distorting her vision. That wouldn’t do. To center herself, Ororo reached out with her powers. It was a gray sort of day, drizzling, with the faint taste of lightning in the air, a storm approaching. Without releasing Jean from the hug, she dissipated the precipitation and drew out the sun, her irises flooding white. “There, light skies for you,” Ororo brushed one thumb over Jean’s cheek as she spoke, examining her features.“You look yourself still, strong, but my gift to you, to ease any weariness. I wish I had been here, all this time, to shield you from the darker days.” 

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prjectx10​:

xxx

Was he disappointed? Heck yes, it would never understand her motivations though, why would you want to sign your life away through the Accords? So when she turned up, he couldn’t help but feel a bitterness he had never felt for one of his best friends before. “It’ll do.” Logan kept his answered short having agreed to help her train to get back to full form. 

He blocked her move, swatting her hand away as he took a step back. “Keep coming at me, you know my moves and you need to show me no mercy.” Keeping it straight on their training session should be enough for Logan not to think about things.

-

It was not as if Logan had ever been the most verbose of men. His terse response was in character; if anything, had he spoken more, Ororo would have had more cause for worry. Yet there was something off all the same, thinning the line of her lips as she drew her fists into a combat-ready stance. “Ah, in here, mercy is the last thing I want to wield,” she said, the ghost of a smile as she shifted from foot to foot, some wild part of her feeling invigorated by the fight, by the challenge Logan’s strength presented. Though her sense of pleasure fell away in face of his curt defence. Ororo took a steadying breath, firm as ever in herself, stance proud and strong. But there was room enough for regret too. She could withstand whatever anger he was holding in, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

True she knew his moves, but he’d taught her most of hers, so there was little she could do but move fast, striking sharp punches in quick succession. When she pulled back, the shadow of Ororo’s smile had disappeared entirely, replaced by steely understanding. “Or receive. There’s no need to pull your punches. Any of them. Whatever it is you want to say to me, say it.” 

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Though she was still getting accustomed to the layout of her new home - if the Mousehole could really be called that - the kitchen was relatively easy to find. This time in particular all Ororo had to do was follow the sounds of banging and clashing. There was no need of any fighting instincts - her finely honed teacher’s instinct did all the work this time, prodding her into faint alarm at the sounds. While she may not have been here long, Ororo imagined a castle full of superheroes was no less disaster prone than a school full of young mutants had been. 

Calm even under pressure, she quickened her footsteps to the kitchen, where her eyebrow quirked, all concern fleeing in the wake of finding Remy at the stove. “I’m surprised to find you like this, old friend.” The fondness stirring in her voice almost outweighed Ororo’s amusment, her eyes lighting up with laughter as she took in the scene. “This is certainly not you at your smoothest. The thief seems to have been caught by his own trap.” 

There were reasons why Remy did not do too well with responsibility, and this was one of them. Yes he had volunteered to cook for the occupants of the Mousehole, and yes he did know his way around a kitchen. But he also had a reckless streak a mile wide, and when the burner on the stove just would not light, instead of grabbing for a match like he should have done, Remy instead touched the burner and gave it a small charge. A small charge, yet one plenty strong enough to send the pot and all its contents into the air…which promptly came down half on Remy and half on the floor. 

“Merde,” he groaned, wiping remnants of the gumbo out of his eyes. He was smarting over his mistake, but it suddenly became a whole lot worse when he looked up and realized someone had witnessed everything. Grinning sheepishly, he gestured to the mess and said, “Ah, what can I say? Dis stuff is so hot it won’ even stay in de pot!”

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@prjectx10

If she could be forgiven for the bad joke, after all these years Ororo was good at reading the temperature of a room. She had sensed something ... disapproval, distance, censure, she knew not what exactly, from Logan since she had arrived at the Nomads’ base. She knew him well enough to see it in his eyes, even if he’d said nothing yet. It was far better to poke a wound than let it fester, in her mind. But first, she had to admit to some rustiness in her combat skills. Too much time spend in front of a classroom these past few years. “It’s no Danger Room,” Ororo began, looking around. The training room was in essentials fit for the purpose, but she felt a brief flaring of nostalgia for their old base, for the simpler times. 

Still, some things were the same, Ororo reflected, her gaze on Logan as analytical, preparing for a fight, as it was reminiscent. She had missed this, but mostly, she had missed him. “But it’s the partner that means more than the dancefloor, no?” She took wary steps, her stance defensive, before striking out, aiming to land a hit between Logan’s ribs. “I’ve missed dancing with you, Logan.”

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@emberbcrn

It had been a difficult journey to Sokovia, ardurous even for one of Ororo’s experience in roaming the world. Possibly because she had been alone, a once familiar state that, since joining the X-Men, had rarely been something she had to endure. Getting out of New York had been easy enough, as she was still a trusted figure by the government - though that was unlikely to last much longer - but upon leaving America, it had been necessary to be far more covert. Surging forward now on the power of the winds, altitude so high there was nothing but the vapour of angry clouds and the crackle of lightning as company, she felt a rush of relief that she was now close enough to her destination to do away with chartering flights and could return to her own power. Maybe it was knowing she was finally out from under the weight of the Accords, but never had Ororo felt quite this rush of freedom in using her powers. There was almost a temptation to keep going, reclaim her position as goddess of the skies with a relish, forgetting all earthly concerns that had kept her grounded so long.  

Lowering her flight path,  Ororo slowed down, conscious of nearing the co-ordinates of the waiting Nomad base. Even if they were expecting her, she didn’t want to trigger their defenses. There was one reunion in particular she had been longing for and would rather have first. If there was any temptation to rival being one with the skies, it was this. Jean, Ororo called out, probing for the connection in her mind. It lay there dormant when they were not using it, but it no longer felt like an intrusive presence. Jean’s mind was nearly as familiar to her as her own, but now they were so close, it wasn’t enough. She craved the phsyical presence of her friend. I’m here. I’ve ... missed you. Terribly. 

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STATS.

name: ORORO MUNROE / STORM 

age: 37

gender: CIS WOMAN

pronouns: SHE/HER

sexuality: PANSEXUAL

species: MUTANT/METAHUMAN

affiliations: X-MEN; XAVIER INSTITUTE; NOMADS

abilities: WEATHER MANIPULATION, TEMPERATURE MODERATION, LIGHTNING GENERATION

HISTORY

Ororo was born in New York City, the place she would return to later in life as an X-Man. As a baby, her parents, N’Dare and David Munroe, moved to Cairo, Egypt, for her father’s work as a photojournalist. Their life as a happy family was interrupted when N’Dare and David were killed in a plane crash. Only five years old, Ororo was traumatized by the crash and being buried under rubble during it led to her developing severe claustrophobia. In the aftermath, as an orphan, Ororo began wandering the streets of Cairo. It was at this time she was taken under the guidance and tutored by a master thief, who taught her how to become a street thief and survive.

  She would eventually travel to Kenya, her mother’s homeland, where Ororo first displayed her mutant powers of weather manipulation. Here, she also met Ainet, who took Ororo in and became a surrogate mother to her. Ororo also began to use her powers to help her village, where she learnt a dangerous lesson about her limits. In bringing rain to her drought-stricken village, she had inadvertently taken it from other villages, leaving them at a loss and killing many animals. It taught Ororo that although she was powerful, she had to make use of restraint, a lesson that has served her well in the years since. From then on, she developed a greater understanding of her powers and was able to use it to help all the nearby villages; in return, she was worshipped as a rain goddess, a mantle that she claimed, as yet unaware that there were other mutants like her.

  As a young adult, Storm was identified as a mutant by Professor X and recruited to his second team of the X-Men. While uncertain of whether or not she wanted to leave the life she knew, Ororo steadily acclimatized to the team and would, in time, consider them her family. She relished using her powers to do good, developing her ability to use them to their full potential. Eventually, she would be known as an Omega level mutant and one of the most powerful members of the team. Additionally, Ororo’s level-headed mind and keen sense of tactics had her become one of the leaders of the team.

  Before the Accords, Ororo had primarily served as an active member of the X-Men and devoted her life to the team full-time. As a former goddess, she had never had an interest in any profession and considered the X-Men her life’s calling, but in time, she began teaching at the school as well, where her nurturing side found an outlet. Ororo found deep meaning in helping the next generation of mutants grow. With the rise of the Accords, she had to make a difficult decision. Being an X-Man was the foundational part of her, after all these years, and every instinct rebelled against the nature of the Accords. While she wished to fight and assert her right to freedom, she cared so deeply about staying with her students that she found herself signing them for their sake, particularly as she had an extremely turbulent history with the headmistress, Emma Frost. Ororo wasn’t willing to leave the students with only Emma to watch over them. Making the choice to stay with the school weighed on her severely, but she believed it to be the right one.    

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The Great Comic Dreamcast: Marvel → Lupita Nyong'o as Storm (aka Ororo Munroe, Ororo Iqadi T'Challa, Queen Ororo, Ororo Komo Wakandas, Beautiful Windrider, White Queen, Weather Witch, La Reine Storm, Mistress of the Elements, High Priestess, Sister Voodoo) 

The elements marshal their infinite might at my beckoning! Power seethes in the rolling clouds! Now, at my command – STRIKE! (x)

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Today’s sketch: STORM

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Celebrating Black History Month: LUPITA NYONG’O for Vogue: The Backstory