Psylocke

"Hi," said a woman, "I'm your roommate, my name's Psylocke."

Ashley stared. The woman was thin and shapely, although come the think of it, it seemed like every mutant was very attractive. She had dyed her hair a distinctive purple, but Ashley recognized her face, with eyes that seemed to say both "you want to be me" and "you want to fuck me."

"Um, are you Elizabeth Braddock?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what Ashley was doing. Then she seemed to seize on an idea. "My friends call me Betsy, so you must be a fan."

Ashley blushed, but nodded. She loved fashion magazines. There was something about having no social life to speak of that had made her follow them almost religiously, living vicariously through the models. She loved the clothes, but she would pour over the lingerie shots in her room at night, and imagine all the men masturbating to pictures of these women. She would wear anything similar to what was on the page, and mimic the poses. She had even taken some pictures of herself, although she deleted them right after looking at them.

She nodded, blushing.

"Wow, you're as red as a strawberry. Come on, you're probably tired, let's head out, and I'll show your our room."

Ashley nodded, and let Psylocke take her hand and lead her to their room. When she opened the door, she saw a small room, with a bathroom and two other doors, one of which had "PSYLOCKE" on it.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out some, but you look pretty tired, so I'll let you go to sleep if you want."