Raven Darkhölme, A.K.A. Mystique paced across her cell like a tiger in captivity. Typically in a situation like this she’d be looking for a way but this time around her attention was captured by the odd quirk of her confinement. In the reflective wall that may well have been a two way mirror she watched blue figure strut side to side with a clashing orange diaper between her legs. It wasn’t often that Raven had an element of her appearance out of her control, especially one so crinkly, garish and unconscionably thick. They hadn’t even bothered with a power dampener, but this just might be more concerning.
She flexed her skin and shifted her shape to that of an unassuming woman, someone you wouldn’t really think twice about passing on the street. But not only did the diaper remain, what she meant to be a sleek pencil skirt manifested as a sort of tutu that only accentuated her padding. She tried again, taking the form of a common constitution worker but pants didn’t even manifest that time. She turned into Jean Grey but her superheroic singlet looked more like a giant baby’s onesie with the thick huggies on underneath. And what’s worse, she felt she had to consciously include non-infantile colors in these appearances.
As amusing as it may have been to see the visage Senator Kelly done up in baby blue it wasn’t gonna help her get out of her. Returning to her true form she tried again to rip the thing off of her. But just like the last times her fingers lost any and all strength and nimbleness when she touched the diaper.
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