Autumn in New York

[Locksmith]

The school year had begun smoothly enough, what with only a handful of fights so far, most caused by simple missunderstandings--teenagers. Classes went well, and the new cook was far better than the old one. Johnathan Parker had to admit that it was quite possibly the best school year yet, and he silently thanked the Lord that Ethan had finally figured out how to run the place.

It wasn't easy wearing so many hats, of that John was more than certain. He himself had to play the roles of teacher, father, friend, brother, disciplinarian, handyman, computer tech, and protector. And with each year that had past, leading up to what would now be his sixth at the school, John learned more and more about what it meant to be a mutant, and feel as an outsider. He had to laugh, even on a campus entirely consistent of mutants, he still often felt alone, being forty-three in a world of teenagers and young men and women in their prime.

Still, the rewards were enough to make up for it. Never having had time for a family himself, they had accepted him as one of their own, and he had to admit he rather liked it.

On a foggy Tuesday morning, his heavy boots thumped along the reinforced wooden floor of the second story, pulling a sour face every time he saw a patched hole in a wall, or replaced sections of floorboard--at least the ones he couldn't blame on students. No, oddly enough he had caused most of the more visible damage around the mansion. It wasn't his fault, though, being naturally clumsy he often tripped over his own size fifteen feet, and when one's mutant power is incredible density, well, he often found himself going through floors or walls. One student with amazing metallurgical powers had even mocked him with a gag gift--a sign which read "Caution, John fell again. Paint might still be wet." To that John had smiled, then made the boy help him with the next repair job.

There were good memories in the halls, and in light of them the rugged teacher smiled on his way back to the hangar, though he was in no particular hurry as his next scheduled class wasn't for another hour or so.

[Pan]

The large gates opened slowly onto a long road flanked by trees and freshly cut grass. A young security guard stepped out of his booth, he greeted the visitor with a smile and asked for his name.

"Duncan MacLaverty. I have a meeting with Mister--"

"It's alright, sir. There's no need to explain. Mister Daniels will be expecting you."

"Alright. Tah."

Duncan took a firm grip of his wheels and spun them, propelling himself steadily forward. The gates closed behind him and the guard called out.

"Hey buddy, would you like a hand or--"

"Nah, it's nay problem. I'll be there no time but cheers anyway."

The guard returned to his post and Duncan turned in his wheelchair and continued down the long road. A wind stirred the trees overhead and they rustled, shaking free a hail of brown and yellow leaves. The leaves twirled and danced in the air, slowly descending to the ground. Sat still, Duncan stared at the display with glee and closed his eyes when a leaf settled on his face. It suddenly turned lush and green until another chill breeze sent it spinng to the ground, yellow once again. He sighed and pressed on until the vast institute opened up before him.

There was a large flowery roundabout in the middle of the driveway before the school. There was no sign of life so he assumed the students must be busy in their lessons. A few stairs lead up the main entrance, next to which was a ramp. He backed away, then gained enough momentum to ascend the ramp.

Once inside, something stirred inside his jacket, he unbuttoned it a little and the head of a chinchilla popped out beneath his scarf. It glanced around curiously then wriggled free of the jacket and fell into his lap. It had grey fur and a white underbelly. He huffed.

"Warm enough for ye now, eh?"

[Uncanny]

The small, curious creature looked up with its large brown eyes and wriggled its nose at Duncan. The scruffy Scot knew that the little guy was warmer now. He also knew that the little guy could smell the varnish that had dried three days ago. The chinchilla hopped up as high as Duncans head, flipping backwards before landing once more on the thick tartan sheet.

[Batdude]

The thick shades were drawn in Marty's room. It was daytime. To everybody else, that meant business as usual. To Marty, it meant sleep. He lit a stick of incense, and leapt up to a steel bar that had been mounted in his dorm room, in lieu of a bed. From there, he could hang upside down and roost. His whole room had been redesigned to this strange habit. Even his computer was mounted upside-down, on his ceiling, The mouse had been a tricky problem, but eventually overcome.

Noshing on a half bag of cheetos, Marty logged onto his World of Warcraft server to briefly chat up with his guild before he crashed. In the background, Led Zeppelin's Battle of Evermore was playing faintly.

He could hear noises outside, but he chose to ignore them. Part of being nocturnal was to learn to deal with the annoyances of the day.

[Ethan Daniels]

Even on a gloomy day such as this one, Ethan Daniels stood out on the balcony of his office, just like any other day. Except that this was a special day, though a nightmare to others. It was the first day of school.

He gazed over the grounds with much fondness and pride. There were plenty of times in the past, that John loved to remind him of, when things were so chaotic and bleak after Dr. Cullen's death, that it seemed only a matter of time before the school was going to close. Ethan had always been a leader on the field, but in the classroom? The thought had petrified him. But Cullen believed in him and left him everything. The school, the X-Men, his research, and most importantly his dream. It was a dream he had died for but it was a dream that would live on through every student, teacher and hired hand at this school.

Ethan?

That was his secretary, Clara. She had been here for as long as Ethan was taking in as a student. It was weird having someone that you used to look up to as a mother figure for so long now working for him. That didn't change anything in her mind. She always tore him a new one when he was brooding too much and never had any qualms about throwing something at him when he was being thickheaded. Clara was the definition of the fiery redhead and age only made her increasingly feisty.

He stepped into his office and accepted the page. "What is it Clara?"

Don said a Mr. MacLaverty is on his way and should arrive at the mansion shortly.

"Good. Send him up immediately when he gets here."

Okay, and one other thing. The plastering to the west kitchen wall is done. We can open it up again for the students.

"Did we rearrange the furniture so John ..."

Yes. We're also working on Carlos' schedule so it doesn't happen again.

Carlos, aka Coyote, ability was radiating a bad luck aura. He can’t control it. At least not yet, but when you combine that with a 500lb naturally clumsy man, who could always increase his density, clumsy turned into a train wreck … through the kitchen wall.

[Pan]

"A smart Alec are we now? If you had so much energy in the first place, you could've bloody well pushed me, lad."

He flicked the little chinchilla on the end of its nosed. It sneezed so hard that it fell back on its hind quarters. He laughed just as a door to the side of him opened. A woman with red hair appeared in the doorway.

"Mister MacLaverty?"



"Aye, that would be me."

"Hello. My name's Clara," she smiled warmly and offered him her hand.

He took her hand and gave it a firm shake and returned her smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Clara."

"I believe you're here to see Mister Daniels. I'll take you straight to his office now, he will be waiting for you."

"So I've heard, please lead the way."

Clara held open a door as he passed through it and walked alongside him. She told him a little bit about the school and asked him about his travels and what he thought of America. She was a very pleasant woman and made him feel very comfortable prior to his meeting with the headmaster. Soon enough, they were outside his door. Clara wrapped her well manicured fingers against the varnished wood and a voice came from inside.

"Come in."

Clara opened the door and headed inside, Duncan followed.

"Mister MacLaverty is here to see you, Ethan."

[Jessa Mckenzy]

It was days like these that Jessa Mckenzy felt the most alive and well. It was days like these that made all troubles seem like mere memories. It was days like these that the disease inside of her ceased to exist; at least in her mind. It was grey and muggy outside, just the way Jessa liked it. No sun, just clouds. Dark grey clouds that promised a rainy day, much like the wind promised.
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A soft breeze blew loose strands of her blonde hair in a tousle around her face; it smelled of coming rain. The thought of it made her squirm with excitement; she loved the rain. The feel, the smell, the cleansing that was brought by God’s water. It was absolutely wonderful.
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Of course, it was the best way to start the first day of school. Having taught most of the early morning hours, Jessa now had a few hours to spare before her next class came in. Already she was making lesson plans for the next few weeks; if the weather shifted there was a high chance that her classes would be outside. . .that is if Ethan approved.

Although she didn't know much about the new headmaster; she liked how he ran things. Jessa, herself, had just started teaching at the school. It was definately an experience she never dreamed of. Especially after her own schooling was done; no she never went to this school for "gifted" children, but she had wandered for a while. Alone, so she could figure out her power. In the end it worked out just fine.

Putting her pen down; Jessa took off her reading glasses and placed her notebook on the stone bench beside her. She sat for a moment to enjoy the signs of what was to come. Calmly she smiled up at the sky, soothing was one of the many things that came to her mind.
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Mckenzy could see the rain had started a few miles away in a sheet of various light and dark water droplets. There was nothing she could say about the scene before her; it was all spoken for.

[Tess Abrahams]

It had taken only thirty minutes to wonder if this was all a mistake. Thirty minutes in New York had been enough time for her luggage to go missing, her wallet to be stolen, her favorite shirt to be drenched in soda, and her discman to break. She had managed to make it to the school without being raped and/or murdered, yes, but somehow that victory seemed very small indeed when all of one's clean underwear was somewhere between Milan and Alburquerque.

Tess Abrahams took a deep breath, pulling her chest up, and counted to ten as she slowly exhaled it. She did this three more times before she felt calm enough to actually enter the school, hands protectively clutching her cell phone and small carry-on; the only two things that had managed to survive the cross-country trek with her. She had no idea what she was doing and suddenly she longed for her mother, who knew everything, and her father, who didn't but could talk his way through any situation.

"Awesome." Tess said with more than a little frustrated sarcasm as she and her well-worn clogs took their first steps into what was to be her new home. The teenager took another deep breath and tried, very hard, to remember to stay open-minded and objective. "Awesome."

[Carlos Calaveras]

The school was humming with activity - literally in some places, with the distant sounds of mis-used powers crackling and whizzing. At any school, the first week of term is a daunting and often chaotic thing, but at a school of mutants its an entirely different kettle of radioactive fish.

One thing that the institute did have in common with your average high school was a welcome wagon. A peppy squad of young mutants, most of whom had been there more than a few years, roamed the school grounds, flashing their pearly whites at anyone looking lost. Somehow, through some fluke of fate, Carlos Calaveras had been drafted in to their posi-parade.

Carlos, or Coyote as he was known to most, stood in the main entrance hall, watching the new and old faces pass by. Behind him there was a booth that had been lovingly put together by one of the girls who had roped him into the project, featuring images of happy mutant students, with slogans like 'together we can do it' plastered beneath their grinning mugs. Beside the brightly-coloured display, he looked a little dour – his black sweater ratty at the edges, his Chucks scuffed and his hair mussed.

There was a pile of yellow fliers, with an advertisement for a student support group, on the table. He thumbed the stack idly, watching as the main doors swung open again. A guy in a wheelchair had rolled through a few minutes ago, with the distinct look that he was on a mission, so Carlos hadn't bothered offering him one of the pep-squads pamphlets. The next arrival, however...

“Hola.” He smiled, “Can I help?”

[Ethan Daniels]

Ethan had been shuffling through some papers on his desk when the knock at his door came. With a quick tap against the oversized calendar covering his desk, they were filed neatly in his hands. "Thank you, Clara."

He pushed out the chair and smiled while getting to his feet. "Good morning Mr. MacLaverty." Ethan held up an apologetic finger. "Just one moment, please. Clara, would you mind sending these off today?"

"Of course." Clara smiled down at Duncan and squeezed his shoulder before leaving the two of them alone.

"I'm sorry about that." He held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope your time here in America has been good so far?"

It was very apparant to Duncan that Ethan was comfortable around him. There were no signs of hesitation or discomfort coming from the Headmaster, just an earnest curiosity and welcoming attitude exuded.

[Pan]

Ethan had a firm grip and maintained eye contact. He was suprisingly quite soft spoken for a man of his size. He seemed as curious as Duncan. The fur of the chinchilla was smooth and comforting against his fingers, he tickled behind its ears.

"It's not like we've been here a long time but yeah, so far it's been a good laugh. New York is a hell of a place."

By now, Duncan had wheeled over to Mister Daniels's desk, behind which the headmaster took his seat. There were large windows behind him and below sprawled the vast school grounds. He glanced out of the window.

"I gotta admit, I was suprised to find a place as remote or green as this anywhere in New York. If you don't mind me asking, Mister Daniels, apart from the scenery, why build a school so far out of the way?"

[Batdude]

Marty couldn't sleep. It may have been the recent influx of new students, or open house, or whatever. That, combined with his ultra-sensitive hearing, sealed the deal. He hopped down from his perch, bare feet slapping the tile with a thud. He looked himself over in the mirror. He was awkward before the change. Now, he was awkward with style. His nearly-black skin met coal-black hair, seated between a pair of large, moveable ears. Seated around those were a set of black-framed glasses, of an incredibly thick prescription. In fact, he was nearly clinically blind, and only through those goggles could he even see three feet in front of him. He leaned toward the mirror to make sure he looked presentable, and wriggled a hooded sweatshirt carefully over his arms, and his folded-up wings, which were folded sheets of skin that hung below his arms and stretched out to elongated pinky fingers, which he bent inwards when not in use.

Such was the life of The Bat Dude.

He fired up the iPod on his "utility belt" and left his dorm in search of pizza or something.

[Ethan Daniels]

He had heard Duncan's question many times in the past. Perhaps not in the exact same word usage, but the meaning was not lost on the Headmaster. Duncan held a certain curiosity about this school that he wanted validated in person.

"It's the perfect atmosphere for our students here to grow as individuals and gain an appreciation for their studies in peace. The make-up of our student body leans heavily toward teenagers and they do enjoy their privacy. But most importantly, our school provides an environment rich with understanding and patience as our students discover who they are and are taught how to use their skills for the betterment of society. It's why we're selective with who we admit." Ethan always tailored his speech on the side of caution when meeting someone for the first time, but anyone that was a mutant could easily read between the lines of what he was really trying to say.

Just then, Duncan's furry companion leapt out of the warm tartan blanket and onto the Headmaster's desk, who merely smiled down at the Chinchilla. He really hadn't much experience with that sort of animal but could tell the little fella was very inquisitive. "Who's your friend?"

[Locksmith]

“Marty,” John greeted the young man who had come to be known as Batdude as he passed by in the hallway, then kept going. The first year among so many other mutants—especially those who had great difficulty learning to control their powers—had been hard on the aging machinist. But with time he learned to take things in stride, and he had become quite complacent even around some of the most freakish of appearances exhibited by the students.
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Yet, most of them never realized how much he did at the school, and away from ti for that matter.
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Since his first year, Back when Dr. Cullen had still been alive, Johnathan had been tapped to join the secret group at the school known as the X-Men. With them, he had seen things he never thought possible, and was finally able to use his powers for something useful. That, and fix all the machinery they broke on missions afterward. Many of the students didn’t even know of the X-Men, and those that did hardly thought that quiet, clumsy Mr. Johnathan Parker would be among them. Still, downstairs, in the sub-basement hung a uniform with his nameplate underneath it. Well, at least the name “Locksmith” which he had been dubiously entitled.
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Stepping into the service elevator, John decided to head downstairs and meet some of the new students. Hopefully some this year would actually take his classes because they wanted to, not because hands-on science was part of the standard curriculum. When the elevator stopped, he stepped out and headed back toward the main staircase, which he was unofficially banned from after an incident a few years back.
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Yes, the new students were arriving, and several of the old students were coming out to greet them. It was time to mingle and learn what new abilities had come in, and if there were any he should be wary of. Once Carlos came into view, John slowed his step. While he had nothing personally against the young man, the two had some to some serious words in the past, even though John knew what happened wasn’t Carlos’s fault.
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Still, when a water main bursts, it’s always handy to have a scapegoat. Enough of that, though, it was time for a smile, and time to make sure he two left feet behaved.

[Pan]

"Fluffy," he lied.

He watched the small creature patrol the desk, sniffing here and there. It approached Mister Daniels with apprehension. The headmaster held out his hand and at first the chinchilla backed off. Duncan stared intently. Slowly, it approached, it's nose twitched. Mister Daniels brought his hand gently down upon its head and its ears lowered. But when he stroked the little thing, it didn't move. It was perfectly relaxed. Duncan grinned and perked up.

"So, Mister Daniels, what you're really trying to say is that this is a school for..."

[Tess Abrahams]

He looked so... so transplanted amongst the neon-bright yellows and pinks that Tess caught herself staring at the young man, unsure if he'd actually said something or not. After half a minute or so it became evident that he had indeed been speaking to her and the girl flushed faintly.

There was something of ease in the tears of his sweater, a casualness in the way he was slouching that belied her frazzled nerves and reminded her, unmistakably, of a James Dean poster she'd seen once in a theatre lobby. Plus, he wasn't wearing leather like the cheery looking girl who had nearly approached Tess before he'd spoken.

"Um," she chewed on her bottom lip, teeth finding the familiar grooves caused from years of the habit, and walked over. When she got close enough she accepted one of the flyers, more because he looked stupid holding them than because she was interested, and glanced down at it.

"Oh." Tess frowned and held the flyer up, pointing at the bolded, italicised text. "You mean like, help-help?"

[Locksmith]

If there was one moment John was going to let Coyote's bad luck sabotage, it was that one. Pausing where he stood, the large man scratched his beard a bit before backing off, and seeing just where this was going to go.

[Carlos Calaveras]

“If you want,” Carlos shrugged, fairly noncommittal.

“Though I was thinking more along the lines of... carrying luggage, showing you where you should be headed.

“...You are new, right?” he asked, as the entirely unmissable shape of John Parker loomed into view. A run-in with the school grease-monkey would be more interesting than doling out fliers, but – smiling – he thought that escorting a freshman to the dorms had it's appeals too.

[Francoise Dupont]

Though it was still only the first week of term, classes were in full effect and although the young mutants of Cullen's Institute reveled in any chance to show off their powers or play rough and tumble, they were still obligated to undergone a normal education. When they weren't practicing self-defense with John Ree, they would be puzzling over algebra problems or trying not to blow up the chemistry lab.

It was important, Cullen had said, that they should receive a rounded upbringing. They were children, after all. Just not the normal kind. Normal teenagers, after all, generally don't burst into flames whilst giving a class presentation.

A wisp of smoke drifted up from Kieran Holmes' hands, dancing off of the ashes of what had once been a lovingly crafted piece of poetry. At the front of the classroom, a young woman smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry about it, Kieran,” she said, her accent a lilting French, “That was excellent.” At that moment, a bell rang, signaling the end of the class. One student, gifted with super speed, was out of the door in a nanosecond.

“The rest of you can give your readings tomorrow. Don't forget, our book discussion is this Friday, so I want you to have all read at least the first six chapters by then.”

The class all filed out one by one, many with mumbled protests, leaving Francoise Dupont alone. She glanced out of the window beside her desk, at the cluster of students loitering in the yard down below. Another class would be due to start in fifteen minutes. She had just enough time to grab a bite to eat from the kitchens. Gathering up her bag, she walked out into the hallway – only to be almost knocked to the floor. Someone, obviously in a rush, had barreled into her from behind.

[Batdude]

"Hey John." Marty acknowledged the mechanic in the hall as he scratched his tussled hair.

The halls were alive with students and activity, and it was all keeping him awake. He walked down to the lobby, eminating a faint click-click-chit-click sound as he went along. Even with his glasses, he could only see so far in front of him. Echolocation took care of the rest. Rapid, hypersonic chirps could paint the scenery around him and give him a view as sharp as any eyesight. No colors mind you, but he could see in blur pretty well, and use his imagination.

"Oh thats right, it's newbie day, eh?"

I looked to the side at Carlos, laying his best rap on the new scenery.

"Hola gorgeous, welcome to the freakshow."

I clapped a hand on Carlos's shoulder and gave her a grin full of sharp teeth.