Introduction to the School

[notsogroovy]

1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, NY. Also known as Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters.

It was the site of hope for dozens of students built upon the bones of a lonely childhood. Two times the school had been opened. The first attempt had been destroyed by the war and by the patriotism (or recruitment) of students and teachers who felt they were doing what was right. The second attempt would prove to be more successful, run by a headmaster who had regained his own hope.

The school, the home, was no longer a place of loneliness. Instead, there were children almost always on the move, fluttering down from the top floor, walking through walls, or just appearing with a loud Bamf. There were darker things at the school, of course. Nightmares that could boil the walls of a room if left unchecked and homesickness, sometimes for homes that had rejected them. But there were also adults who mentored these children. Pain and heartache may have still been in the house, but so too were companionship and support.

It was an air that the teachers deliberately tried to invoke since many of them hadn’t had it in their own childhoods. They’d had to hide or were hidden or were even persecuted just for being who they were. It was the teachers who had all decided that they would try to make the lives of the children easier than their own.

But that didn’t come without a cost. There were layers beneath the school, layers where some of the students were trained to protect themselves and others and to fight. The world might have seen mutants in a different light after Mystique’s rescue ten years ago, but they’d also seen what Magneto could do. Mutants might have finally been in the light, but they still weren’t always safe and that was where the X-Men came in. Hoping for a better future, but also preparing for a worse one.

And that was really what Xavier’s was: a refuge and a place to forge the next generation of mutants, ones who wouldn’t have to live in the darkness their forefathers had. And it was up to their teachers to make sure they were ready for that future.

Comments

[verpissdich]

"Don't have to. Was assuming you'd--" Warren cuts himself off rather quickly, averting his gaze to the floor and continuing into the room once the door is opened. He's not planning (and hadn't been) to attack Charles or anyone else in the school.

Honestly, the boy's lost and didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. One of the whole reasons he'd come to America in the first place.

[frankensteinian]

He knows that Charles won't hurt Warren, and even if Warren tried anything, Charles could stop him, so he figures that perhaps a little privacy for their conversation would be appreciated. He doesn't like everyone knowing his business, after all.

He will wait outside the door though, just in case.

[verpissdich]

It's a decent amount of time - about twenty minutes - before the door reopens and Warren carefully slips between it and the frame, making sure his wings are out of the way, then securing the door behind him.

He leans back against it, staring down at his feet for the moment. "Said that it would probably take some time for the other students to get used to me, but ... I won't have to sleep on the roof anymore."

[frankensteinian]

"It took them awhile to get used to me, too, but they did." He's the one who had let the mutant cat out of the bag on national TV, and arguably made mutants' lives harder. So of course it had been a bit of a shock for them at first.

"Charles letting you stay here will help with that a lot, though."

[verpissdich]

"And if they got used to you, shouldn't be hard for them to get used to me." It's a playful joke, one that Erik hopefully won't take personally or anything.

"Says he trusts me and that I'll do the right thing."

Which he will, thanks to his former teammate's interruption of his nighttime drinking. "Thanks," he murmurs, the edges of his lips lifting in the smallest smile. "For convincing me to come inside."

[frankensteinian]

"You're not the one who almost destroyed the world, so there's that." Which is exactly what Warren's point had been.

"That is a very Charles thing to say. He means it." He has no doubt of that. Charles had kept telling him that there was good in him somewhere, and it had taken him twenty years to believe it. Hopefully Warren figures it out faster than that.

"I figure inside is more comfortable than outside."

[verpissdich]

"Maybe not, but I did sort of help."

He nods in understanding, draws one hand up to rub the curls at the back of his head then shrugs. "He also mentioned something about 'X-Men' and offered me a position on the team," he pauses, brow furrowing in contemplation before softening again. "If I adapt well, anyway."

Speaking of outside-- "I should probably go and get my stuff off the roof."

[frankensteinian]

"You may have helped, but I did most of the actual destroying. Yet here I am." Charles and his new crop of students are incredibly forgiving, as Warren is discovering. Erik's not sure he deserves that forgiveness, but there is it.

"You've seen what the X-men can do. There are worse groups to be part of." Though he doesn't really feel much like elaborating on how he knows that.

"It will certainly be drier if you bring it inside."

[verpissdich]

"Well, I can't disagree with that." Warren offers the older mutant another slight smile and pushes away from the office door, dragging his already raised hand down the back of his neck and around to scrub over his face.

"At least they seem like a somewhat sensible group." Stable, which is something that he needs in his life right now.

He turns on his heel and starts down the hallway toward the foyer, pausing mid-step to turn and glance over his shoulder at Erik with a silent, 'You coming?'

[frankensteinian]

He might as well. It's not like he's going to sleep anyway. He has become the sort of night watchman over the school while everyone else is asleep. Probably a good thing for Warren; someone else might not have been able to convince him to come inside.

"They can be sensible. Under the correct conditions." Most of the time. Pretty much they just follow Charles' lead, so the trouble comes when Charles and Erik disagree on something.

[verpissdich]

"What kinda conditions?" he asks, being sure to keep the conversation going as he begins to lead them back toward the foyer. Metal on metal resonates from the appendages at his back, the scraping not unlike a blade across a whetstone; he's nervous about all of this. The fact he'd been so easily accepted into the school felt ... wrong in a way.

After a quick shake of the head, Warren straightens and picks up the pace of his stride, hurrying to get outside so he can return to the roof for his things. Erik should have no trouble keeping up.

[frankensteinian]

"Most of them are teenagers, but they can be sensible when they're not under duress." Like any other person, really. When someone's life is threatened, they tend to lose more control of themselves.

Erik keeps up easily. "There are worse groups to be a part of."

[verpissdich]

"Most people have less knee-jerk reactions when they don't have to worry about when their next meal is gonna be or if that guy might knife them for being a mutant." That might have been a far deeper peek into his thoughts than he would've liked.

Good, because Warren's pace increases marginally after that slip-up, one of his arms raising to elbow the foyer door open so he can get outside.. "Heh, like the one before?"

[frankensteinian]

"Then it's a good thing that they don't have to worry about those things, isn't it?" Certainly not here, where they're all mutants, but even in Westchester, the town seems to have accepted the mutants' presence here, even after the recent events in which the world nearly ended (and he knows there's a reason that Charles, and Moira too, only ever mentioned his role in helping to save the world, and not his role in helping to end it).

"Definitely not one of my better decisions." He knows that now, although he didn't care to hear it at the time.

[verpissdich]

"Yeah, it is." For once, Warren's grateful that he isn't being questioned about his life before living on the roof of the school. A few people knew his decision to be in the club and while he might not have regretted it at the time, he's now wondering if fleeing the country when he'd had the chance would have been a better choice. Too late for that and there's no way for him to travel back in time that he knows of, so best to let it be.

"You're not alone in that," he states, stretching those steel wings out and taking to the air again, reaching the edge of the roof within a few seconds then striding over to a small crevice between what he'd assumed was an observation tower and another pillar to gather his belongings, which isn't all that much.