Jono Starsmore

The going had been slow. Looking the way he did, Jonothon hadn't dared to venture out of the alleyway in the middle of broad daylight, and so he'd spent the better part of Thursday trying to remain unnoticed in the shadows. But, after nightfall, going back to the hostel for a shower had been a mistake. Jonothon had all but frozen as he'd stepped into the bathroom, the first glance at the mirror revealing one hell of a sight, even with his jacket collar still turned up over the bottom of his face. His jacket was smeared in dirt, his face and clothing caked with dried blood.

( Cut For Possible Triggers. And length. But mostly triggers. )

[NFB for distance, and establishy, and based on Jono's personal account of how he joins the New Warriors in New Warriors Volume 4, Issue 9. Um. With some artistic liberties taken because so help me, this bit of canon is so handwavey I don't even. Whee?]

The Present:

Sitting in a bar, staring into his drink. The same one he'd ordered hours ago, bought and paid for out of his own pocket and everything. Anything particularly valuable to him was left behind in his room, letters and stones, seashells and crowns and a dozen little mementos of his high school days. He wouldn't be needing them tonight.

( Xavier's School, Monday... )

[Establishy! Snagged pretty much directly (and with some mild rearranging) from Weapon X issues 15 and 18. NFI, NFB, but OOC is always welcome! ... Oh, Jono.]