xfactors | Introduction to the School

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.

Threaded | Flat

From:

notsogroovy

She’d agreed to stay on because she saw potential here. In Hank for one. She’d always thought that he would follow in Charles’ footsteps of blind optimism, but time had tempered him. He was stronger than he had been and harder. It was a good look on him and between the two of them, they’d created a team to fight for the rights of other mutants. Most of that team was still young, but she couldn’t properly call them children anymore.

Still, believing that Hank had matured didn’t mean her relationship with him was any easier. In fact, none of her relationships were easy. Hank, Charles, Erik’s son, the other students who looked up to her in a way she’d never wanted. And then there was Kurt.

A part of her was still metaphorically leaning forward on the balls of her feet preparing to run. She hadn’t had a proper home, hadn’t had this home in twenty years. So it was no wonder that there were often nights when she couldn’t sleep. And when she couldn’t sleep, she wandered into the kitchen. A midnight (or 2am) snack always seemed to help her restlessness.

From:

protectsthosewithout

If there was a positive to come from what happened with Nur, because Charles refused to call him Apocalypse, even though that was what he was, it gave him, or the memory of him too much power over the students that now resided here. He could find mutants without the aid of Cerebro, because frankly, Charles didn't care if he ever saw that room again.

Unlike Nur, Charles knew what power he now held and carefully guarded against using it without cause. His mental shields were impenetrable, and he only allowed people to see what he wanted them to see. He hadn't quite managed lying to Raven at all, so he let his guard down around her, because frankly it was tiring.

He was so unbelievably proud of what they had accomplished together, and he wasn't afraid to tell her.

From:

time_inabottle

Peter was unhappy, no he was pissed. He was like a nervous ball of energy that had nowhere to go. He hated that his leg was broken, and he couldn't run. He needed to run like most needed air to breathe. He wasn't content like this at all.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he rested on his crutch. He also knew that he needed to talk to Erik, but he didn't know how to force the words out of his throat. He stubbled his way towards the garden, the greenery always made him think more clearly.

From:

beastbelow

Hank stood at the window of the library, transformed, his arms crossed over his chest. He was restless. He didn't really like change all that much, but he had promised to give it go for Raven.

She had stayed which had settled Charles and in turn settled him, which was a good thing. He knew that Erik had played a role in saving them all, but he couldn't help but feel unsettled having him here.

He knew that he should let bygones be bygones, but it was hard to rewrite 20 years of pain.

From:

frankensteinian

It's a bit strange to him, to be back in this house after twenty years, especially with everything that has happened in those twenty years. He knows he's always welcome here, even if he hadn't always wanted to be.

Still he knows that he won't be staying this time either, though he's not ruling out coming back at some point. He just has a few things to work through first. Now that the school is up and running, it's time to take his leave. His teaching method won't be missed.

If only he could find a good way of making his intentions known.

From:

verpissdich

It had taken him weeks to finally arrive in New York.

With his painful awakening beneath heaps of metal, Warren hardly managed to free himself from the wreckage, metallic wings screeching in protest at having kept him from being crushed. He'd only taken a few minutes to assess the situation, found a way to stop the bleeding long enough for his regenerative healing factor to kick in and began planning his way back to Germany to find Caliban.

When he couldn't fly anymore, he walked and when that failed him, the winged-mutant found ways of getting himself a ride. By some miracle, he made it all the way to the outside of the Institute, stood addle-minded, exhausted, and at a complete loss near the end of the driveway. The only reason he'd came here was because Caliban had given all the information he'd needed to get him this far and through his traipsing around the city, a whisper of 'gifted students' and 'school' rang as clear as his wings did on some days.

How was he supposed to approach this delicately? Getting attacked wasn't really on his to-do list and if he simply waltzed up to the front door, knocked and shrugged his shoulders, which mutants would jump him first? No, this choice needed to be made with the utmost care.

So, that's why he's taken to sleeping in dry spots on the roof, daily visits to the city for things he might need or skulking around the mansion at night when everyone is asleep. At least, that's what he hopes; there are obviously powerful mutants here (he's seen some of them in action) and he knows he has to be careful or he might as well have stayed in Egypt underneath the rubble.

Edited Date: 2017-02-15 10:21 am (UTC)