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| Hellgate New York; [open to three or four, 1or2 staff plz] | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 27 2008, 12:18 AM (714 Views) | |
| Hellion(old) | Oct 27 2008, 12:18 AM Post #1 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Time of Day: 3:20pm Place in Timeline: October 26th Taxis stank. The kind of stink you get from countless asses plonking themselves down on the faded upholstery, wearing away the fabric until there were clear butt marks where people and their glutei had rubbed the seatery raw to the weave. They smelled of armpit juice and stale food, on the odd occasion vomit, and more often than not the cheddar-stench of overworked feet due to weary labourers thinking it really didn’t matter that they kicked their shoes off at the end of a hard day and gassed out the reams of society, or whoever had the displeasure of next riding in those yellow chequered cars. Julian spent the entire journey from the airport with his nose wrinkled, lulled into a strange kind of hypnotic daze by the mass of suspended beads and chains that were wrapped oh so stereotypically around the rear view mirror and made it nearly impossible to make out practically anything in the visible chinks of reflective glass. The driver somehow managed it; eyes darting to the road and back to the mirror slices, beady pupils captured in tiny fragments as he yammered on about subject matters that Julian really wasn’t paying any attention to. Save for a few ah’s and mm’s in vague acknowledgement of the whittering, the teen dragged out the minutes by wishing his parents had bothered fetching him some privately hired vehicle instead of pressing a wad of cash into his wallet and telling him to find a cab and direct it towards Westchester Academy. At least they had paid for airplane seats set fimly in first class. It was with obvious relief that Julian finally stepped out of the stuffy car, throwing the door shut and staring his surroundings up and down as if he were inspecting some sort of prize cattle. Nudging his sunglasses southwards a millimetre or two with an awry fingertip, the West Coaster peered over the top of his Oakley’s and with a cocked brow took in the sprawling mass of stately brick and vine and austerity that people otherwise referred to as a mansion. Never mind that in the gloomy autumnal afternoon light the item deftly perched upon the bridge of his nose was completely unnecessary. Suffer for fashion, right? Well, maybe there was a distinct lack of suffering, simply that behind the darkened veil of upsettingly expensive shades it was a bit like wandering around in a permanent twilight zone. Stuffing a few crumpled green notes into the awaiting hands of the taxi driver, without bothering to count exactly how much he had parted with --alongside a mutter of ‘keep the change’ that didn’t really inspire-- Julian stalled a moment. The place was huge. The teen hadn’t quite known what to expect-- a laboratory had briefly crossed his mind, littered with contorted freaks with gloopy eyes and rainbow coloured hair, and cots with bracers to keep the test subjects strapped down. That was all just bored musings of course; dispirited with the hours on the flight his thoughts had tripped along weird and not so wonderful paths, and a mental home for the wretched and crazy German mutant science centre had not been the least of his imaginings. At least the place was big enough. Regardless, this whole thing was ridiculous. Sounds of life could be heard mumbling from somewhere deeper within the building; Julian’s features skewed into the beginnings of a frown- well he certainly wasn’t going to sit around like a jackass just waiting for someone to stumble upon his newly arrived butt, slumped in the doorway like some homeless freak expecting a pickup call and a meal ticket. The door was thrown open, at least thrown as much as an ancient oak panel which groaned as if someone was hacking at its hinges with a rusty axe could be. He had buzzed at the front gates…like a freaking mile away from the ominous doorway. If they weren’t going to be ready for him at the entrance then they could damn well run around looking for him. |
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| Cyclops | Oct 27 2008, 11:06 AM Post #2 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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A hand caught the door before it hit the wall. Scott had just finished his final math course of the day, and had returned to his office in order to grade papers. The weather was growing colder, and though it was not cold enough for him to light a fire in fireplace, he had shrugged on a dark sweater that looked like charcoal to him, but he was assured was a shade of blue that Jean said complimented him, not that he cared about that sort of thing. He cared that Jean cared and that was about as far as it went. She usually shopped for him, knowing full well that the former orphan and current color-blind work horse would be content in jeans and a black t-shirt until the knees were worn through and the shirt faded to a sickly grey. The buzz at the gates alerted him, but it was not until he realized that the person who had rang their bell had not waited for an answer that he began to feel a little irritated. Not that he would ever show it. He just didn't understand why people didn't simply follow the rules when the rules were so very simple to follow. One plus one equals two. Ringing the buzzer means you wait for someone to come get you. There was only one student that was expected at this moment, one Mr. Julian Keller, late of Beverly Hills, a seventeen year old telekinetic, whose mother had called and given Scott an earful regarding everything from the state of mutant affairs to the diet her son would be eating to the qualifications of the teaching staff to the power levels of the students. He had needed Jean's comforting presence in his mind in order to say was was right for that woman, and not shown her one of his extremely rare but very volatile flashes of temper. He was not a man who carried such things over, however, and his irritation with the impatience of the boy was an entirely new circumstance whatsoever. "Mr. Keller, I presume," Scott greeted, his voice showing not one iota of his annoyance, "Welcome to the Xavier School for Gifted Youth. I'm Scott Grey-Summers, your math professor and squad leader. Your enthusiasm is admirable but I must ask you until you get more used to your surroundings and the workings of the school, you don't wander around without permission. Don't worry. You'll see everything soon enough, but you have to understand that in a place like this with as many powerful beings in it... there's a certain amount of risk in blindly stumbling about." He adjusted his glasses, making no comment on Julian's own. Frankly, he didn't even notice. "Let's go on up to where you'll be dorming. We can talk on the way." |
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| Hellion(old) | Oct 27 2008, 01:48 PM Post #3 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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That hand manifest seemingly out of nowhere, powering forward to neatly catch the violently swung door; Julian paused for a moment, his own arm outstretched- fingers still splayed on the wooden panelling, staring at the newcomer as if he expected the teacher to suddenly shoot lasers out of his eyes. Oh, the irony. “Nice glasses,” he said dryly, gathering himself and shrugging away from the door, not a shred of genuineness in his words, although with Julian you could never really tell. What the hell were they? They looked like some sort of off brand; the kind Julian imagined you would perhaps find in a dollar store or some other thrifty place that people riding the breadline frequented. Not that he could be certain of that- the richkid hadn't stepped foot in anything of the like in the whole of his seventeen years. It was all just guesswork, but hell; what in god's name was more presumptuous than an arrogant young son of billionaires? The telekinetic let Scott finish his welcoming speech before replying, hiding a frown as the X-Man concluded. Dorms? Great. I’d better not be sharing with someone whose mutation is to produce copious amounts of snot. Julian’s eye narrowed behind his sunglasses. “Yeah, look, I’m not really concerned about bumping into whatever kind of super-powered kids you have running around this place. I’m fairly sure none of them will give me any trouble,” Hellion responded, glancing around the foyer whilst waiting for Scott Grey-Summers to step out and lead the way. Scott Grey-Summers. What a mouthful. Add another name to that- stick something in the middle, you would nearly have an essay. “And just call me Julian; the whole mister thing makes me feel like my dad, which if you know my dad is really not a good thing. What do I call you anyway? Summers? Scott? Grey-Summers? Shades? Scott Grey-Summers’ll kind of get a bit tiring.” |
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| Cyclops | Oct 27 2008, 07:35 PM Post #4 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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“Nice glasses,” [Julian] said dryly. Scott ignored the obvious insincerity. Mr. Keller was not the first student to come here with a chip on his shoulder. Scott himself had been angry and abrupt when coming here, eyes bandaged shut, hackles raised, wondering if the Professor had taken him in for reasons that were less than pure, memorizing how many steps it was to the front door so that he could run if he had to. Julian neither was the first student to be over confident and arrogant, and Scott had never been what a person like that might consider worth their time. He was too strict, too un-fun, too obviously of a poor background... a career soldier because he had no other option. If they were patient and willing to forgive his personality flaws, they would find him more than he appeared to be. Seventeen year old boys weren't know to be so introspective, and teenagers tended to have problems with authority figures as a whole, mutant teens no different in that respect. So, basically, in a nutshell, Scott was likely the epitome of everything that Julian Keller would have a problem with, and he expected it. "My glasses are a means of controlling my abilities," Scott explained, simply. "If you ever see me without them, be concerned." Julian bragged about not foreseeing any trouble with the other students, and Scott allowed himself to smile just a bit, "You'd be surprised, but frankly it wasn't the students I was concerned with. Your classmates have been trained to use their abilities in defense, but not in offense, so there is little reason for in fighting. I'm speaking more about some of the secure areas, that can offer their own sort of hazards. Until you've been properly acquainted with our equipment, I'd like you to curtail your curiosity." The request seemed simple enough and there was no hint of order in it, but Scott seemed to expect him to obey nonetheless, a man used to telling people what to do and having people do it. When Julian asked about his name, he said, "Most people call me Scott, or Mr. Grey-Summers. You can choose either. I answer to both. I'll attempt to remember to call you Julian, but forgive me if I forget. I tend to be a bit formal." He didn't offer to take Julian's bag as he headed towards the stairs to show the boy to where he'd be dorming. "You'll be rooming with Bobby Drake, one of our older and more experienced students. His abilities are classified as cryokinesis, the power to create ice and manipulate it. He's... an interesting young man to say the least." |
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| Hellion(old) | Oct 28 2008, 07:56 PM Post #5 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Be concerned? About what? Would Grey-Summers’ head explode if he weren’t wearing those glasses? Would radiation leak out and turn those around him into shrivelled lumps of flesh? Would he suck out Julian’s soul if he looked directly into the teen’s eyes? “So what, you shoot fire from your eyes or something?” Like it would be that obvious. And how the hell would a pair of sunglasses stop it? Scott passed off Julian’s pre-eminent boasting with the slightest of smirks and a passive rebuttal which left him wondering exactly what the teacher was trying to say, although the curiosity was temporarily washed away; “Personally, I’m kind of into the whole ‘best defence is a good offence’ mindset,” he shot back, mind skipping over his past experiences with that exact idea in tow. That was Hellion for you- when it came to sizing up and butting heads he didn’t really believe in giving others any ground whatsoever; that much was obvious in his plethora of sporting achievements and placements on football squads and running teams and anything else that involved sprinting about competing against others and generally working up a sweat. Scott turned and began towards the flight of stairs without even a glance at Julian’s luggage; the telekinetic stared at his back for a moment; hell, they were nothing if not encouraging of self-sufficiency, although to be perfectly honest he thought it a bit rude. Pursing his lips slightly in vague irritation, Julian silently hoisted the bag himself and strolled after the teacher as if completely unfazed with the apparent lack of courtesy. Unimpressed with the explanation of his soon-to-be roommate’s powers, Julian offered a shrug; “As long as he doesn’t ice me while I’m asleep I don’t particularly care.” As they walked, what had bothered him a few moments ago tapped at the back of his mind once again; the teen frowned, throwing Scott a glance. “What was that about secure areas? This place is just a school, right? And while we’re at it, I really don’t think any equipment you have stored away is going to pose me much of a threat…” |
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| Cyclops | Oct 28 2008, 08:31 PM Post #6 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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“So what, you shoot fire from your eyes or something?” "Beams of concussion with the impact force of a rocket launched bullet train, actually," Scott answered, calmly, no trace of arrogance in his voice, unlike the young man he was escorting. "When I was a little younger than you, my abilities manifested and I was trained here at this school to learn to use them properly with consideration for the level of danger negligent or emotionally based use of them could cause. The school's founder, Charles Xavier, was a firm believer in not stifling one's powers, but in responsible use of them for the betterment of the world around us. That doesn't mean, however, that we're unprepared to use our powers in defense when required." “Personally, I’m kind of into the whole ‘best defence is a good offence’ mindset,” the boy said, in a tone Scott found decidedly snippy. Scott smirked, "Yes, yes, that is one way of living your life. But your offense will heighten their defense and the whole situation will escalate into war. There's something you have to realize about the human population of the world, Mr-- Julian... they're scared of us, and frightened people are dangerous people. They have a right to be afraid. There are young men and women here with the ability to crack the world in half if they use their power improperly or with wanton disregard for what's right. Hopefully, here at this school, we help developing mutants learn to make the right decisions regarding the people they want to be, not the people humanity fears they will become." They reached the boys' dorm wing and Scott showed Julian the lounge and the restroom as they passed, "Besides, I am much more of the mindset that the best defense is proper preparation. I believe it is important to be as prepared as possible for everything life throws at you, and believe me, life's nothing like I expected it to be before this all happened." Julian made a joke, sort of about Bobby and Scott chuckled lowly, "Well, frankly, knowing Mr. Drake, that's a very real possibility. He has a sense of humor... not necessarily a good one mind you, but a sense of humor nonetheless." Then, came the question that was always the most difficult to answer. This was just a school right? It had always been a point of debate around the staff, when to introduce the students to the X-Men. Scott didn't believe in lying about it. He never had. "Several of the staff and older students, Julian, take advanced training in their abilities and other necessary skills, to serve as an emergency peacekeeping force of sorts. We use our powers for the protection of both human and mutantkind in an attempt to make our world safer for us all. This school is home to the X-Men." |
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| Hellion(old) | Oct 30 2008, 12:12 AM Post #7 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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"Beams of concussion with the impact force of a rocket launched bullet train, actually." Wow. And it was all answered deadpan as if simply responding to a question about diets, or something similarly ‘normal’. Truth be told, Julian hadn’t spent much time around anyone else with special abilities …any time at all, really; hadn’t ever particularly discussed them as if they were a regular everyday occurrence, which of course as things progressed in the world they were coming to be, but as far as it went in Beverly Hills…people didn’t really converse about that kind of thing. His parents, while they didn’t exactly throw up a huge fuss about trying to hide their son’s powers they didn’t encourage use of them either, or conversation concerning them for that matter, unless it involved a reprimand. Everyone in that stuffy, diamond encrusted, plastic-faced community knew, they just declined to mention it around him or his family. No doubt behind closed windows and locked doors the high-society morons chewed each others’ ears off about it, but as far as Julian was concerned it was a matter that was overlooked, ignored, and purposely forgotten about. No one else in his neighbourhood possessed anything even remotely super-powered. The nearest thing anyone got to it was owning a private jet. Naturally the incident at the house party would go down in infamy for the Keller name, but even so, it would likely never be brought up in their presence. Julian simply responded with a vague smirk, although to be fair, what was he supposed to say to that? Oh I see-- so would that be the bullet train in London or one of those fancy science fiction things that zip about Japan? Yeah, he really wasn’t seeing himself responding in kind. They made a brief circuit of the boy’s dormitory; Scott pointed out the lounge, which actually looked fairly decent, what with the games consoles strewn around, and the sizeable screens to display them on. Not quite as large as Hellion’s parent’s home cinema set-up, but that thing was entirely enviable and had probably cost nearly as much as the house that it had been assembled inside itself. Grey-Summers’ response to Julian’s following commentary about Mr Frosty didn’t fill the teen with much confidence; "Well, frankly, knowing Mr. Drake, that's a very real possibility. He has a sense of humor... not necessarily a good one mind you, but a sense of humor nonetheless." “Hmh…” Julian grunted, looking slightly peeved. “Well then he better be able to fly.” Waking up in sub-zero temperatures wasn’t exactly the telekinetic’s idea of a good start to the day; breakfast is served with a side of Antarctica and an extra helping of frostbite? No thanks. If anything of the sort happened, Drake would find himself being TK’d clean out of the bedroom window. Then there came the expansion on that enigmatic forerunner about secure areas and extracurricular activities. Hellion’s eyebrow’s climbed higher-- the X-Men? God that sounded lame, sort of like some cheesy ‘Eighties television show about good guys with bad dialogue running around in spandex and telling the kids to eat their greens and to not do drugs, mmkay… “So… you’re running some sort of superhero gig?” he asked, somewhat incredulous. Not that he thought it was an entirely bad idea- to be perfectly honest the concept was rather appealing, but in this world, and in these sort of times, where people were greedy and selfish and grabbed all they could for themselves and fuck whoever they trampled to get to it…it was difficult to imagine any group of people who would want to risk their lives to protect it. Julian was far from being so jaded and cynical that he believed the planet and its occupants were beyond saving, but he wasn’t naïve. “Well you won’t find a better candidate for any sort of team you’re running,”--yeah, like he would miss out on the chance of being on anything in the shape of a team-- “but why don’t you go public with it? Fame and fortune, you know, since the whole hero thing falls a bit short if people don’t know who’re saving their asses…” |
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| Cyclops | Oct 30 2008, 07:51 AM Post #8 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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If Julian reacted to Scott's description of his powers, unless it was a large and obvious reaction, he missed it. It was strange perhaps that on the field of battle that Scott was acutely aware of his opponents emotional state, their movements, their reactions, but in personal situations, he was not entirely competent at it. He glanced at the young man at his side without moving his head, his eyes hidden so that the glance was covert, sizing up young Mr. Keller, learning what he could about the boy from his appearance. When he'd come here, he'd been in a threadbare sweater and tennis shoes that were practically shapeless from walking through the snow in them, and this mansion... once the Professor had presented him with the glasses that saved him from a life of blindness... had been completely in awe of this mansion, afraid almost to touch anything. Julian clearly was unimpressed, and despite having gleaned just the smallest amount of the boy's background, Scott was aware of the Kellers' wealth. It had been a great source of the telephone conversation as he had been made to assure Julian's mother that the school's lack of tuition was not a sign of charity. Xavier's was exclusive, yes, but the criteria was genetic not monetary. The boy made a snide comment on Bobby going flying if he tried one of his pranks, and Scott had to smile at that. It was probably a little cruel to pair these two particular boys together, but Scott had not known what sort of young man, Julian was, had he? Besides, pairing such different personalities together would undoubtedly help them both grow. Who knew? Maybe they would end up life long friends. After all, it had worked for a sullen, shy orphan and an arrogant, angry brat, hadn't it? "Well, I would refrain from tossing around your classmates, Julian, even if you think they deserve it.... even if they do deserve it." The comments about the X-Men, however, weren't taken so lightly. "You must not spend a lot of time watching the news. The X-Men is not 'some superhero gig.' We are the first and foremost mutant powered team, registered with SHIELD, highly trained and strictly regimented. It's an option for you to consider as you become more accustomed to your abilities and your genetic status. Mental powers such as yours are high adaptable in battle if wielded correctly, but there are more things to learn in order to function as a member of a team like the X-Men. I look forward to seeing you at your full potential. But, remember, a life of combat is not the only option for mutants. That's one of the main things we'll be teaching you here. Just because we can levitate or have glowing skin, there's no reason we can't live normal lives... just some of us choose a more proactive path, that's all." They reached the dorm room and Scott poised his fist to knock on the door. "Mr. Drake was informed that you were arriving, but we didn't know what time you'd get in, so I'm not sure if he's waiting here for you or not. Are there any questions you have for me about anything before we set you up here? We'll go over your coursework and the school charter in my office after you've settled in." He dropped his hand and extended it to Julian to shake, "Welcome to Xavier's, Julian, we're very happy to have you here with us." |
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| Hellion(old) | Nov 2 2008, 12:23 AM Post #9 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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What? They were on the news? Confusion washed across Julian’s features; he was sure he would have been well in the know about any sort of super-powered peacekeeping force if they had been plastered across any type of headlines, textual or televised-- his parents were avid news readers simply for keeping up appearances and to negate the risk of looking like they weren’t aware of anything that was going on in the world of today and tomorrow. He imagined they would have done a deal with the Devil if it meant getting next week’s newspapers and being one-up on those around them. Kind of stupid, really; they even read the tabloids, and those rolled-up garbage liners were the biggest pile of literary crap Julian had ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on. But of course it was all just to know the gossip, as in case anyone mentioned the words did you hear about…, they wouldn’t fail to fall short as much as the line well of course, and I’m not surprised could parry it away. “You must not get as much coverage as you seem to think,” he said in a bored tone, painting over the trip-up, and his annoyance at it. But it sounded like something he could really get into, work his way to the top…being the leader of some sort of faction could have some really nice perks, and getting recognition for helping people along the way wouldn’t be so bad either. Tempted to simply walk straight through the door without waiting for a response, Julian slumped his bag onto the floor, shoving the sunglasses upwards so that they came to rest atop his head, an impatient light immediately apparent in those vibrant blue irises. The teen wasn’t well known for his forbearance, rather the opposite- he had little time for sitting around or putting up with any kind of crap whether it was being made to wait or dealing with idiots. There were no questions to ask, Hellion had gotten the jist of things fairly quickly- they were a private boarding school for kids who defied physics and during after school hours they donned capes and saved the world. What was to question? Taking the proffered hand and shaking it once, firmly- far more like his father’s handshake than he would ever like to realise- Julian nodded at Scott and threw that practiced grin at the older mutant…the reflex expression that looked oh so genuine, even lit up eyes with well-versed charm. “Thanks, I’m happy to be here.” Yeah, right. |
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| Bobby Drake | Nov 5 2008, 10:59 PM Post #10 |
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Unregistered
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Bobby rounded the corner wearing a set of purple sunglasses, having just come from outside the shades didn't do much for the protection of UV rays from the sun. But they were cool. It gave him the perfect idea of who he should be for Halloween. Today though the Iceman was having a urge for a boost. A boost from his KICK inhalant. He felt he was in control of it and he could stop whenever he wanted. Problem with that was he didn't want to stop. The effects of KICK made him a bit more reclusive than normal, but a simple excuse solved that; 'I'm not feelin well' or 'I'm a bit tired today' was all it took for other to get them off his back. Bobby Drake couldn't see what the drug was doing to him. He rationalized it's use as an energy booster, like Monster. He saw Scott and a new kid. They told him he was getting a new room mate, that had to be the kid. After clearing his throat to make his presence known Bobby said, "Hey Scott, this my new roomie?" The new guy seemed interesting enough, and the iced mutant was curious as to what his powers were. Maybe he can keep a room mate for a longer amount of time, this time around. |
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| Cyclops | Nov 6 2008, 03:19 AM Post #11 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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“You must not get as much coverage as you seem to think,” [Julian] said in a bored tone Scott shrugged, "Or you are watching the wrong programs. We've gotten far more publicity than I particularly care for. Since everyone and their mother carries a cell phone with a camera nowadays, there's more footage than ever before. Very hard to keep a secret identity when you've been on the nightly news." There was some commotion inside the room, as Bobby bustled about doing whatever it was he was doing, and Julian, in the meantime gave his very unenthusiastic response to Scott's welcome. He didn't blame the boy. Very few students came to Xavier's because they had any other choice, and so most of them came angry, bitter, afraid, some like Scott himself had been all three at once. But Charles Xavier had brought them here to help them and his first student had taken up that mantle, that responsibility. He was prepared to deal with arrogance and attitude, and never expected to be the favorite teacher, or everyone's pal, Scotty. He was content with taking their abrupt rudeness with a grain of salt and training them to handle their misplaced anger into the determination and strength that was required to be a productive member of society that just happened to be a mutant. Bobby at last opened the door, and greeted his new roommate. Scott knew already that this was going to be a room he would have to discipline often. "Well, I'll leave you two boys to get acquainted. Mr. Drake, when Mr. Keller is all set up would you please show him to my office. Thank you. I'll get your paperwork ready and we'll discuss where you are in your classes. Maybe we can get it sorted out before tomorrow." He nodded to the two boys and headed back down to his office. |
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| Hellion(old) | Nov 9 2008, 02:42 PM Post #12 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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Purple sunglasses. Purple. And red. Bug-eyed, Julian was fully aware of the fact he was staring, and he really didn’t give a flip flying fuck about it-- he’d stare if he damn well pleased, especially when thus far every single person he had met in this godforsaken place were breaking serious fashion laws. Fair enough, the numbers didn’t yet tally up to a very large amount, but two alone were two too many. After a moment of sizing up the newcomer, looking for all the world as though he had never seen another human being before, Julian strode straight past him and discarded his bags on the floor with a huff. “Yeah, I think I’ve got it from here,” he threw back over his shoulder without turning his head to see if Grey-Summers had acknowledged him or even heard, or even cared about the snide edge to his words. “I take it it’s a prerequisite to have bad dress sense to get into this school,” Julian commented, bemused, before pulling his own pair from his head and eyeing them for a few moments. Guess that doesn’t say much about me then he concluded mentally, and tossed them onto the neatly made but sparse looking bed. Five hundred dollar shades and everyone was wearing cheap pieces of plastic that made his look like a joke. The room was…a room. It wasn’t very big, especially not for two people sharing; his own room back at home was far bigger than this, and decorated better for that matter. There wasn’t much else to say about it, the nondescript space was just that, not very describable. Vibrations whirred through his pocket; the teen pulled a face and dug about into his pants in order to wrench the muttering piece of hardware out and inspect the wretched thing, trying to discover exactly who was calling it. Narrowed eyes glared at the Nokia display screen; it was some nobody amongst the little collections of friends he frequented back in Cali…ugh. A thumb jammed onto that big red reject button, cutting off the buzz and the awaiting recipient. The idiots back home could wait, especially his parents…they certainly wouldn’t be hearing from him for a while, he was far too angry at them. As far as his social groups went…god, how freaking embarrassing was it to be dragged away to some school for weirdoes up in Westchester County, Loserville, New York. They didn’t know that it was an institute for the genetically askew, but that wasn’t the point. “So, Mr Frosty,” Julian quipped while shoving the phone back into its pocket-home. It had been a Motorola until last week, but really, you could never have too many cellphones. The other one was stuck on ‘off’, thrown lazily on his bedroom shelf alongside various other items including his car keys and some sporting trophies. Fuck, his car! He’d have to give Thomas, their erstwhile butler, a call and see about arranging someone to drive it up here for him. “First things first; if I see you touching any of my stuff you’ll be the first to know what a telekinetic sledgehammer feels like. Beyond that, I don’t really care what the hell you do with your time or life. Just be aware that if you snore I may accidentally blow up your bed.” The final line was delivered with the smallest edges of a smirk, as if the words hovered somewhere between severity and banter, although it was difficult to tell. |
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| Bobby Drake | Nov 10 2008, 03:24 AM Post #13 |
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Bobby got his instructions from Scott. Once he left the new kid wasn't at all hesitant to remark on his fashion sense, it was probably the shades. The purple shades looked pretty good on him. They worked for the Iceman, he seemed to be the only one who could pull it off. But he looked so damn good in them. He let Julian have it hissy fit but then he addressed him again by calling him 'Mr. Frosty'. Oh yea, that hurt. He had heard worse and better. The least he could have done was be more original. It never bothered him to be called such names, as a matter of fact it was how he introduced himself to new students. Julian spat out threats to the iced mutant. Which meant absolutely nothing to him, he was 100% positive that he could beat the newbie. When he finished Bobby took off his own sunglasses and said, "Don't worry about getting off on the wrong foot or anything." Giving a little smirk of his own he continued. "As for your things, no interest. If ya wanna blow up my bed you have to buy me dinner first." The smirk grew to a smile, in no way did Bobby swing that way. He had no objections about it, but he was all for the ladies. "As for you being able to take me out with a tk hammer, I'm pretty sure... actually I'm downright positive that you can't match me." Putting his sunglasses back on still smirking he finished. "Now if you're pretty much settled... Scott wanted me to take ya to his office. And you being a newbie, you'll get lost here without me." |
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| Hellion(old) | Nov 12 2008, 05:57 PM Post #14 |
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Telekinesis / Flight
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This lamer thought his new roommate wouldn’t be able to match him? Was he kidding? How the hell did he come to that conclusion; what was he gonna do-- snow on him? An amused snort escaped; Julian tried to suppress the tickled grin that fought to wrench his mouth about. A headshake, and the West Coaster dropped onto his bed, unzipping his bag in a single motion. “Yeah? You better hope we’re not on opposing teams; I’ll show you what a telekinetic ass kicking looks like and make you cry about it,” he sneered. “And as far as buying you dinner goes…unfortunately for you I don’t think you’d be allowed into any of the restaurants I go to. And sorry, I don’t do McDonalds.” Fingers closed upon his toothbrush-- he desperately needed to scour away the residual taxi stench that had settled at the back of his mouth…kind of like stale milk. Gross. "Now if you're pretty much settled... Scott wanted me to take ya to his office. And you being a newbie, you'll get lost here without me." “I’m pretty sure I’d find my way around, this place isn’t much bigger than my house back in LA,” Julian shot back at him, absentmindedly twiddling the toothbrush around his fingers. Fine, that had been a little bit of an exaggeration; the Institute was a storey higher and about twenty bedrooms bigger, but what the hell. The telekinetic found wild claims such as Ice-dick’s suggestion that it was large enough for him to go MIA in completely outrageous; in similar fashion his mom and dad had tried to convince him that he would find the mansion and its grounds ‘refreshing’ and ‘impressive’. It wasn’t impressive, it was downright pretentious. “Freaking parents and their freaking self-righteous bull,” he grumbled aloud, to himself, ignoring Bobby and his ability to hear. |
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| Bobby Drake | Nov 15 2008, 12:47 PM Post #15 |
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The new guy was a complete jackass. Arrogant, stubborn, and full of himself. Everything the guy had to say only got an eye roll. He grumbled something about his parents out loud and Bobby raised an eyebrow. But it was he opinion that if the new kid didn’t want any help, that if he wanted to look like a lost fool, that was his choice. Bobby plopped himself on his own bed and motioned his hand to the door. “Well if that’s true you can find Scott’s office all by your lonesome. Have fun trying to figure out where it is… roomie.” Whether it would get under his new room mates skin or not it would be entertaining to see how lost the new kid could get in such unfamiliar grounds. Ah the start of a brand new friendship. The Iceman wasn’t looking too forward about it. But he was already there and there was nothing more that could be done. But if Julian couldn’t find it, which he wouldn’t, as soon as he would leave the room Bobby would make a stream line of ice that would lead to Scott’s office. Something for the newbie to follow. That way he could find it and maintain some pride, by not being accompanied by the coolest, literally speaking, mutant in the school. |
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2:50 PM Jul 11