September 31, 1988 (Late afternoon)
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
New York
2 men sit in a very nice office within the large school. It's Professor Xavier's office, in the east wing of the ground floor. They have been sitting in this office for close to an hour… debating. The man in the wheelchair sits near the large bay window, it looking out towards the vast property. The trees in the distance are in the midst of revealing their fall colors. Upon the couch in the office sits another man, one dressed in very nice business attire. Oh he's covered with blue fur also. His name is Hank McCoy, and he's the Professor's assistant. But more than that, he's one of Charles' best friends.
"Charles… it isn't that I disagree. Quite the contrary, I would say. But…" Hank falls silent as he now takes off his reading glasses, setting them on the end table next to him. Charles doesn't look over his shoulder towards Hank yet as he speaks, his tone calmed and soft. "Erik is still out there. Somewhere. There are rumors amongst those in the Alley"
"The Morlocks" Hank intercedes… now causing Charles to look towards him with a small frown. And Hank just smiles, holding up his hands as he speaks softly.
"Terribly sorry. Please, continue good sir." Charles watches him a moment, and then looks back towards the property as he does indeed continue. "Rumors from the… Morlocks… that someone is recruiting again. Recruiting for something sinister, I'm sure of it."
Now Hank leans back on the couch, his legs crossing at the knees as he speaks.
"And you think it's Erik once more. We've not heard anything of him for… years. The new X-Men, I don't even believe they know of him. You can't be sure it's him." Charles nods a little, his wheelchair turning as his hands grip the wheels themselves, pulling and pushing them. "No, I can't be sure. I can't find him, no matter how hard we try. But we must assume there is something coming. The first class of X-Men… they mostly live as instructors now. Sean is on Muir Island… and…" he sighs gently as Hank finishes the thought
"You know not if the 3 new members can be wholly relied upon." There is a pause, as if Charles is gathering his thoughts.
"If I did not trust them, they would not be here. They would not be sent on the occasional mission. But they are so young, so inexperienced" Hank is about to say something, but Charles raises his hand to stop him as he continues "Save for Wolverine, I know. At their core… they are scared. Save… for Wolverine once more. But he has… a whole other level of problems."
Hank has been staring at his bare feet this whole time, wiggling his furry blue toes idly as he thinks. Wiggling his toes helps him think sometimes.
"Wolverine seems a fine fellow, with the best of intentions. But I, for one, find it hard to instill my trust 'pon him. Nightcrawler is to inexperienced… and Storm… the lass means well. But no, they are not the first class in comparison. But the point of us opening these doors to young mutants was to provide safe harbor for them. A waypoint amongst the raging storm that is their lives. There are currently 17 students and wards within these walls. I wish not to ask any of them to go into some kind of combat situation. I would not have come here if your intention was to create an army of mutants. That makes us no better than those of Ge-" Charles interrupts him, speaking in a soft and stern tone. "These children are not soldiers, Hank. But we can not ignore the fact that there are forces gathering… but mutant and not. Forewarned, forearmed; to be prepared is half the victory." Hank smiles faintly, his fangs slightly showing as now his deep blue eyes meet Charles'
"Miquel de Cervantes. Very good." "Thank you."
"I had no intention of implying we send these children 'pon the beaches of war to besiege the castle. Most of their gifts don't lend themselves to… being able to properly defend themselves or those around them. Not all of them are fighters. And before you say it, I know you're thinking of a specific few. I am just… uneasy in this." Charles nods, his hands now absently straightening the quilt covering his legs. "I am truly and sincerely uneasy with it too, Hank. I did not open these doors with any intention of battle. But I can't deny…the world we live in… tensions have never been as high as they are at this moment. Forget the state of the mutant in this world… Lebanon, Libya, Sinai, Grenada, the Gulf of Sidra… the world has never been in such turmoil… not since the second world war. We must be prepared…" He shakes his head as he trails off, hating that he has to express such sentiments.
"I'm not disagreeing with you. I am just… uneasy. And… I've already put together a little list of those that would be most receptive to… advanced training." Even though he doesn't like it, Hank still had the forethought to do research on each student, both in regards to their powers and personalities. "I know you have, Hank." Hank snortlaughs gently, tapping his own forehead
"Right, of course you do. Then you know who we are considering. And… who we can ask to help with training…"
Charles draws in a slow and deep breath, once more wheeling himself to the window. "I think it will be good for Laura to be a part of this group. The child just isn't opening up to anyone, aside from Logan. Piotr… I have never encountered a youth with such heart. One of the new arrivals… I think I agree with you in regards to her assessment. Only 3 so far, then?" Hank nods as he now pushes himself to his feet.
"Yes, only 3 so far. But more students will be showing up on our doorstep soon, of this I am sure. But to be clear… they are not X-Men. Not yet."
"Not yet."
Most of the students within the school have made their way to their dorms, or congregated in what has become known as 'The TV Room'. Because it has a TV. And a VCR. And a Nintendo. And a Sega Master System. That's where most of the children choose to spend their time. Or out in the yard just being children. But yes, some have returned to their rooms to study for the next day's classes. As kind as the instructors are here, they are also very strict in regards to schooling.
But there is one amongst the children that hasn't yet been to any classes. Since she was brought here almost a year ago, she has been slowly adjusting to life on the outside. Trying for some sort of normalcy. The kind of normal her mother would have wanted for her. The kind of normal she knows she'll never truly know.
And so she has, for the most part, shut herself off from the others. It's not that she dislikes them. That's not it at all. Young Laura actually enjoys being in their company. She truly does. But she has… many… emotional issues. The instructors have tried to help her, but she just closes herself off to others.
As example, while most are congregating in the TV Room, kitchen or dorms… she is sitting out in the front yard. She leans back on her hands as she sits there, the hood of her hoodie drawn up. She is wearing a pair of dark colored jeans, nothing fancy. Ever. Green eyes are cast out towards the front of the property. Watching the trees, watching for whatever might come down that long lane towards the school. She would occasionally hear some of the students (her hearing is very excellent, after all), but she chooses not to interact with them. And so she just sits… maybe just waiting for the new day to arrive.
Little does she know a new day has indeed arrived.
Tagging: @Ms.Ezra,
@Gands