- Joined
- Dec 6, 2005
- Messages
- 9,807
- Reaction score
- 229
This was good. About as good as it could be anyway. Scott Summers… now Headmaster Summers he guessed (he gave an involuntary shiver as that thought crossed his mind) was overwatching the gathered mutants. While he was more relieved than happy to see the more “colorful” guests behaving themselves it was seeing the students dutifully putting on the best example of what this Institute had to offer. Helping guests find their way on the grounds, offering a plate of food to the stray groups of attendees, and even in some cases being the shoulder to cry on for a few strangers.
It was things like these that kept Scott Summers going during this tasking time in his life. First losing Jean and now Charles? Scott thought he’d break, but this school reminded him why he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but smile observing one of the Institute Staff playing with the small class of preteen students. One of the mutants who could be identified by look, she had a large bushy tail. He recalled her name being Doreen.
Cyclops felt something cold metallic feeling brush his neck and he reached back to find an equally cold hand, “These better not be Logan’s, Bobby.”
“Pfffft,” Bobby Drake offered as he cracked the bottle top to his beer that was kept perpetually cold via his mutant abilities, “I think you earned one. Besides, the old man Logan won’t miss a couple. If he does? I’ll tell him one of the older students took one.”
“How woefully irresponsible, Professor Drake,” Scott let out a rare grin as he took the beer and opened it. He raised the bottle to Bobby, “To Charles.”
“To Charles.”
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He could tell where the wall had been fixed. The pattern of the wood was off and the paint just didn’t quite match the color. No, this was definitely the wall that he had been blasted through years ago. Calvin Rankin ran a hand along it lightly. It had been years since he had been in these walls and he had left them an enemy of the X-Men. The Mimic. He had tried to kidnap the man whose funeral he was attending for Christ’s sake. Mimic mentally chided himself for taking the Lord’s name in vain. He wasn’t religious, but he knew Kurt was around and the Catholic had a sixth sense for guilt.
He’d kept up with the X-Men. Rivalries gave way to alliances which eventually fostered friendships as Cal journeyed down the road from his young villain days to the responsible adult… hero was a word he didn’t know if he could apply to himself. He didn’t DO things because they felt right. He just didn’t like seeing people get hurt. It was also hard to feel like a hero after what happened in District X. Still, despite the circumstances, this gathering was a nice distraction from that. Looking around he tried to spot some people he knew but to no avail. A lot of the people he recognized. Newer X-Men, Allies from other groups like X-Factor, and even some people he knew from the Brotherhood days.
He guessed he’d settle for someone he didn’t know. He spotted a young woman eating some of the food from the party platters and decided to strike up a conversation.
“Excuse me, miss. Cal Rankin. Are you one of the X-Men or… I mean you look too old to be a student.”
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He’d have pounded a whole case by now had he been alone, but Logan was nursing a beer given the circumstances. He’d probably known Chuck longer than anyone here with the exception of Magneto and even then after those two had their falling out he’d probably grew closer to the man than the Master of Magnetism would care to admit.
Xavier had done a lot for him. Gave him purpose, helped him find himself on more than one occasion, and even after years of absence in the middle of the night he had shown up on Xavier’s doorstep with a little girl named Laura who he’d just found out was his daughter. Charles didn’t ask any questions and in a few hours had a room for her and a cup of cocoa. Charles Xavier was probably one of the best men he knew. Now he was gone. Logan took a large pull from his drink and kept moving to keep his mind busy.
He happened upon Alistair. A newer face around the Institute compared to Logan, but he liked the guy. Took a lot of focus to keep power like that reigned in and the older mutant couldn’t help but respect the Hell out of that.
“Need a drink, Tulloch? Do you even… drink?” While Logan liked the guy he just realized he hadn’t a clue how exactly his physiology worked exactly.
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“Scouts on the grounds. We should have range between us and them that no mutie powers should pick us up."
“All the same, engage the dampeners. I don’t want this operation fumbled because some kid who can sense what one of our boys and girls had for breakfast somehow tips them off to our intrusion.”
“Understood, sir. They’ll be placing the anti-teleportation pylons to keep any of those type fleeing.”
“Good. Once we have our contingencies in place for most of their powers I want us going in full force. Time to show off what the MRD can really do.”
It was things like these that kept Scott Summers going during this tasking time in his life. First losing Jean and now Charles? Scott thought he’d break, but this school reminded him why he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but smile observing one of the Institute Staff playing with the small class of preteen students. One of the mutants who could be identified by look, she had a large bushy tail. He recalled her name being Doreen.
Cyclops felt something cold metallic feeling brush his neck and he reached back to find an equally cold hand, “These better not be Logan’s, Bobby.”
“Pfffft,” Bobby Drake offered as he cracked the bottle top to his beer that was kept perpetually cold via his mutant abilities, “I think you earned one. Besides, the old man Logan won’t miss a couple. If he does? I’ll tell him one of the older students took one.”
“How woefully irresponsible, Professor Drake,” Scott let out a rare grin as he took the beer and opened it. He raised the bottle to Bobby, “To Charles.”
“To Charles.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
He could tell where the wall had been fixed. The pattern of the wood was off and the paint just didn’t quite match the color. No, this was definitely the wall that he had been blasted through years ago. Calvin Rankin ran a hand along it lightly. It had been years since he had been in these walls and he had left them an enemy of the X-Men. The Mimic. He had tried to kidnap the man whose funeral he was attending for Christ’s sake. Mimic mentally chided himself for taking the Lord’s name in vain. He wasn’t religious, but he knew Kurt was around and the Catholic had a sixth sense for guilt.
He’d kept up with the X-Men. Rivalries gave way to alliances which eventually fostered friendships as Cal journeyed down the road from his young villain days to the responsible adult… hero was a word he didn’t know if he could apply to himself. He didn’t DO things because they felt right. He just didn’t like seeing people get hurt. It was also hard to feel like a hero after what happened in District X. Still, despite the circumstances, this gathering was a nice distraction from that. Looking around he tried to spot some people he knew but to no avail. A lot of the people he recognized. Newer X-Men, Allies from other groups like X-Factor, and even some people he knew from the Brotherhood days.
He guessed he’d settle for someone he didn’t know. He spotted a young woman eating some of the food from the party platters and decided to strike up a conversation.
“Excuse me, miss. Cal Rankin. Are you one of the X-Men or… I mean you look too old to be a student.”
----------------------------------------------------------------
He’d have pounded a whole case by now had he been alone, but Logan was nursing a beer given the circumstances. He’d probably known Chuck longer than anyone here with the exception of Magneto and even then after those two had their falling out he’d probably grew closer to the man than the Master of Magnetism would care to admit.
Xavier had done a lot for him. Gave him purpose, helped him find himself on more than one occasion, and even after years of absence in the middle of the night he had shown up on Xavier’s doorstep with a little girl named Laura who he’d just found out was his daughter. Charles didn’t ask any questions and in a few hours had a room for her and a cup of cocoa. Charles Xavier was probably one of the best men he knew. Now he was gone. Logan took a large pull from his drink and kept moving to keep his mind busy.
He happened upon Alistair. A newer face around the Institute compared to Logan, but he liked the guy. Took a lot of focus to keep power like that reigned in and the older mutant couldn’t help but respect the Hell out of that.
“Need a drink, Tulloch? Do you even… drink?” While Logan liked the guy he just realized he hadn’t a clue how exactly his physiology worked exactly.
------------------------------------------------------------
“Scouts on the grounds. We should have range between us and them that no mutie powers should pick us up."
“All the same, engage the dampeners. I don’t want this operation fumbled because some kid who can sense what one of our boys and girls had for breakfast somehow tips them off to our intrusion.”
“Understood, sir. They’ll be placing the anti-teleportation pylons to keep any of those type fleeing.”
“Good. Once we have our contingencies in place for most of their powers I want us going in full force. Time to show off what the MRD can really do.”
