Beyond Evolution

There were three bands on the bill that evening. The headliner was, of course, a fairly well known one, with the two before being of a smaller nature, but still with slight followings. Jay's band was the first act and slightly abnormal considering they'd never played a show before and had no fans to speak of, but the venue was trying to help the local talents out a bit and when they'd heard the band was comprised of mutants from Xavier's, they'd offered the spot immediately. Without saying that, of course. No one wanted to be accused of some kind of reverse racism, after all. It wasn't like the band was going to complain though. Exposure was always good, and it was what they'd been working towards anyway.

The club that was hosting them was a nice size, two levels and with several bars, located somewhere in downtown New York City. It certainly wasn't a concert hall, but was known for its good live music and so there was a decent crowd there that grew larger as the night went on. The band had finally decided on a name, too -- Gen X. None of them were old enough to be from that generation, and their music certainly wasn't, but it was more a nod to Xavier's and what they were having to grow up in the midst of anyway. There was definitely attention paid when the band got there and went backstage to help set things up. It would be ridiculous to try and deny the whole mutant curse of being ridiculously good-looking 90% of the time for one thing, not to mention the fact that Jay's wings were out, and at least three of their band members had been in clips on the news for the attacks.

They'd told people around the school about the show, although Jay hadn't gone out of his way to post on the journals. Still their friends knew and word had gotten out. The show was under-21 friendly, although the students all had to get the X-bands showing that they couldn't be served alcohol. Which didn't seem to be the case for the members of the band backstage, but hey. It was their first show together, but they did well. The songs were Jay's, and he made use of his mutation at times to multiply the voices that seemed to be singing during them. He was on guitar as well, with Rahne playing the other. Artie on bass, Kate drumming, and Gemma coming out for piano on the songs that she was needed on rounded out the band. The songs were general enough that the crowd as a whole could enjoy them, but did definitely seem to have some special meanings for the school and the people who went there; it wasn't like Jay was going to name names about who the inspirations were, though. The audience got into it and overall they were a hit; better yet, there were apparently no mutant-related disasters striking during or after the show.


((Open to all! Set after Gen X finishes; you can be in the audience rocking out, backstage if one of the band members gets you back there, or on one of the other bands tourbuses if you're with one of Gen X and are cute ;D. Songs played are Dirty Little Secret, Gives You Hell, One More Sad Song, Another Heart Calls (ft Gemma!), and The Last Song -- yes, AAR are being used for the band's songs and sound!))

Ever since the whole end of the world act at Xavier's, Alani had been having a hard time readjusting. Thank goodness classes had ended, so she had one less thing to focus on. Time to think had been hard pressed against her. With her free time she had blown off steam by rocking some waves in the Danger Room. She also wrote to her family and caught up on some reading that she'd been wanting to do. Now she was just sitting outside by the pool putting together a wind chime. With her was a bag full of shells, twine, beads, and everything else that she needed. The base was a shell plate that her mother had made for her. It was really pretty, the colors caught in the sunlight to give it a sparkle effect. The shells she used reined from small, painted star fish, conch, tusks, and sand dollars. She even had a few polished stones to go wtih them. Back home, Alani and her mother had used to put together wind chimes, jewelry, and lei's to sell to tourists. They were nothing really special, but it was something to pass the time with. "Homemade comes from the heart," her mother used to say. Not just that, it was an activity that her mother had used to force Alani into a more ladylike decorum. It...hadn't really worked. Not to the extent that Aileli had craved. But it did manage to catch Alani's interest occasionally.

One couldn't spend all day watching BMX... right?

Well Alani did like to have other activities to do. Watching extreme sports and fantasizing about being famous for them herself wasn't her only hobby. At home she used to hike. It was different here. She did not know this area well enough to just take off on her own. It was not only that getting lost would be a huge embarrassment. It went without saying that Hawaii had more hiking options then New York did. From what she had seen, anyway. Also, it would be nice for her to find someone to go with her. Someone who knew where they were going. There was a gaggle of people running about this place. Even though in her short stay here so far she had made some acquaintances, Alani wanted more then that. She wanted a connection with the people here. They all had something to offer, being that they had come from all walks of life. But some of them were so learned that they did not bother with the newbies that were shuttled into the mansion. It was strange that she craved their attention so much. Usually Alani had no problem being a loner. In fact, she utilized it. The status made it so that she could get away with not being bothered by anyone that she didn't want to be. But many things had changed over the course of the new year. Her life was not the same anymore. Change was inevitable. Who knows? Maybe this was the course she would have chosen even if she had never mutated. Alani didn't know what was in store for her, here or anywhere else. But she did know that she had to make the best of it. It wasn't like she was leaving anytime soon.

Alani began to focus on her work, alternating the decorations by stone and shell type. It was turning out nice. She hoped that her roommate wouldn't be annoyed by the little contraption. Hopefully not. Maybe if she gave this to Sofia then she would be forced to like it, and they could leave it in the window. That might work out nicely.

Open to Warren

backdated to the early hours of the morning.


It wasn’t the first time he’d woken this way since the attacks, bolting upright in bed, sweating, heart racing, blood thundering through his veins as if it were being chased by something unseen; something hungry and fierce, predatory and relentless. Panting, chest aching from the force of the heaves that disturbed it, he sat there. Sat there and waited. Waited for the next stage to strike. It never took very long.

This time was no different. It didn’t start at any one particular point, rather consumed his whole body, head to food, all at once. The shaking lasted anywhere from five to forty minutes, he had noticed, with no way to predict the length in advance. There had been little else to do for the duration of the aftermath periods to date; Luka usually spent them sitting back against the headboard, watching the little neon numbers on the alarm clock flick past, waiting for everything to subside. Were they panic attacks? It was hard to say. All Luka knew was that they were preceded, each time, by a vivid replay of the events at the school, at least the ones which he had been involved in. He didn’t want to call them nightmares, that seemed so presumptuous and almost juvenile in a way. For now, he wasn’t calling them anything. Giving a name to them gave them power, in a way.

Perhaps that was ridiculous too. Maybe he should just call them nightmares and be done with it.

Luke knew one thing. He couldn’t sit there and count down the minutes until the shaking stopped. Not again. After more than a dozen of the nightmares and following panic attacks -- so much for not giving them names and therefore power; apparently he was just calling a spade a spade now -- maybe a break in routine was just what he needed. Really, there was only one way to find out.

Without even taking the time to change out of the pyjama pants and t-shirt in which he slept, he padded barefoot out of his room in the faculty wing, absentmindedly leaving his door ajar, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Behind him as he walked, his shadow seemed to turn its head, occasionally stopping altogether and doing a sweep of the area. His shadow, sentient though it seemed to be, had no means of detecting danger, rendering the cautious, watchful behaviour obsolete, but it continued all the way to its host’s destination.

The light was left off subconsciously, as if standing in darkness would protect him somehow with the greater access to the surrounding shadows, the bottles and jars in the door of the refrigerator rattling softly as it was opened, the glow playing over Luka’s features as he stood there, trying to figure out why exactly he had come to the kitchen, of all places.


[ open ]

Brian had been a bit scarce as of late. Finals had kicked his ass but with hard work and focus he had passed with flying colors. It had meant no time for Jaya, his sister, or anything else but he had apologized profusely for it. Then after his last day of class he and Vea got a surprise visit from their dad. It was his yearly visit where he would show up and spoil the hell out of them both. Since Vea had just met Vincent a few years back she was still unused to the treatment and did not ask for anything. But Brian had gotten a brilliant idea from his father's generosity and decided to take advantage of the old man. Its not like Vincent minded. All of his free ways with money were the result of guilt. Guilt with fact that he had taken Tag away from his mother after the brutal divorce settlement. And then guilt with the fact that he did not know about Vea for nineteen years. Vincent did not know any other way to let them know that he loved them, so he lavished them with monetary security.

Brian wasn't complaining. He'd been used to it for years. And he planned on being used to it for however long Vincent doled it out.

Walking toward Jaya's new room with flowers and a blindfold, Brian smiled. He loved coming to her with surprises. And since she loved being the recipient of attention, Brian knew she would reward him for his good behavior. It was just what he needed after spending weeks in what felt like solitary confinement. Even though Bry knew all his hard work would eventually pay off it was hard to convince himself to push through it all. But if he wanted to amount to anything he knew that he had to keep at it. His career choice was turning out to be an easier shot then he'd anticipated, but it called for more work then play. It was time for some play. He knocked on Jaya's door with a persistent rap of his knuckles and a stupid grin on his face. This was going to be perfect.

The project should have been easy. It didn't need to be large, it wasn't in multiple pieces. Something simple would actually be preferable. A memorial for the garden. For the people who had died during the cure. It wasn't like Kevin didn't have inspiration. He'd been through it himself, he'd lost friends in it, he'd gained this weird connection from it, his powers were back. It was all there. But for some reason it was more difficult than any of his other pieces had been before, even the ones he'd done in college, the ones that were actually being graded and determining his worth (back when he still actually put some merit into what others thought of him).

He'd ordered King and Luce out of the studio, again, several hours ago. He wasn't exactly pleasant to work with, but they knew why that was and hadn't been trying to fight his moods. Which was probably a good thing all around. He was silent for the most part, not giving them orders for hours at a time at some junctures, ignoring them completely at points, and occasionally (like today) telling them to just get out after finding something wrong with what they were doing. Even if they were only doing what he'd told them to do. It wasn't them that he was frustrated with, much as his tone might disagree. It was himself. Why couldn't he get this right? Everything he thought to do, everything that he started working on, he ended up hating and tearing apart. And the stupid thing needed to be finished. It was like this big, hulking, metal elephant in the room for him, it was invading his thoughts and aggravating him even when it's lack of structure wasn't laughing directly in his face.

( He didn't even know how long he'd been sitting in the studio. )

((this would've made the news!))

Getting his hands on Sadie's phone had been a longer, more labor-intensive process than Hendrix had thought it would be at first. Even with all the time he spent with her, he'd never really noticed just how glued to her cell phone she was - she kept it in her pocket most of the time, she took it to class with her, he suspected she even took it into the bathroom with her when she showered sometimes. If she'd gone more than ten feet from it over the last week, he hadn't been around to see it, and since he'd been basically stalking her the whole time he doubted it had happened at all. Hendrix was patient, though; several years of Liddell prank wars had taught him the value of waiting for his moment, even if it took longer than he'd planned on. And he only needed a minute or two to put his plan into action, once he got the opportunity. It was Sunday night before he got his chance - she'd been texting while she made him watch zombie movies, half her attention on the cell phone display and the other half on his attempts to cover his eyes during the gut-munching bits, and she left the phone on the couch cushion when she got up to get a snack. Really, she should have known better.

Lightning-fast, he snatched the phone off the seat the second the back of her head disappeared past the door frame. He only had a few seconds before she'd be back, but changing a custom ringtone and getting back to the screen she'd had up when she left didn't take long - the real trick was putting the phone back exactly the way she'd left it. No, the real trick was acting innocent when she got back, acting like he hadn't done anything he wasn't supposed to do without acting like he was acting. Playing innocent without resorting to obvious puppy eyes was a skill he'd honed over the last few years, and he had it pretty much down by now. Not giving any sign of what he'd done during the rest of the movie wasn't even that hard - he had plenty of eyeball gouging and brain munching to distract him, and his squeaks of dismay as he watched the worst bits through his fingers weren't even part of the act. Once again, he needed to wait for his moment.

That moment came Monday morning, in a crowded room, when he called Sadie's phone from a safe enough distance that he could run for it if he needed to. He'd made sure to crank the volume up as high as it would go before replacing the phone, and that meant that when "I Kissed a Girl" started playing, everyone in the room could hear it. His only regret was not shelling out for a camera phone so he could capture the look on her face.

(narrative!)

Earlier in the day, Sharon had persuaded someone with a driver's license to take her to a bookstore in the city. No, she hadn't exhausted the school's supply of library books - she just wanted something specific, something she hadn't found in the school library (and really hadn't been at all surprised not to find, although she had looked just in case). Xavier's supply of books about sex just wasn't that impressive. That wasn't too surprising, given that the library was available to even the youngest of students; they had the basics, but if you wanted to learn about more than just how babies were made and how condoms worked, you needed to look elsewhere. And Sharon wanted more than just the basics, Sharon wanted details. Sure, she was a married woman now, but that didn't mean she knew everything there was to know about sex - and she wanted to, she was as curious about that as she was about everything else. Possibly even more curious, given how fun it was turning out to be, she wanted to know everything there was to know. Obviously books were the way to go, you could learn anything from a book. Nobody had ever bothered to instill a sense of shame in her when it came to sex, so she didn't think twice about getting a ride out to Barnes & Noble and heading straight for the sex and sexuality section, head held high.

She also didn't think twice about bringing her shiny new copy of The Joy of Sex down to the rec room with her. She'd wouldn't have hesitated to curl up on the couch with a book about American history or how to train a puppy, after all - why should this be any different? Okay, maybe Miss Eleanor should have spent a little more time on the difference between public things and private things. Chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, Sharon turned a page and kept reading, not even trying to hide the cover. There was some interesting stuff in here.

(open!)

It was quiet in the art studio. In the pocket of her grey cardigan, pulling the material down with its weight her pocket watch marked the time as being after midnight, closer to one. That was okay though. Lucille liked the first few hours after midnight, it was quiet and even though with it being the height of summer and how the nights didn't really get very dark for very long anymore, it was still the calmest time of day to her, the time she could think the clearest and get the best of her work done, she guessed that made her a night owl and that was just fine too. Those grey sleeves that usually dangled around her hands, covering her knuckles while her thumbs pushed through holes she'd picked in the seams were bunched up at the elbows for now, her hands were dirty, streaked in grit, grime and WD40 and a band aid covering her pinkie finger on the right where she'd stupidly sliced the skin open on a bit of sheet metal, sworn in French and then gone to run it under the water in the sink. Hair pulled up into a haphazard, messy pony tail that was starting to droop down around the nape of her neck now thanks to the weight of her hair, Luce sat perched on a stool, bare feet on one on the rungs so that she could lean her elbows on her denim covered knees, it wasn't the smartest thing to wander around barefoot but she was alone and she didn't care, she'd kicked off her flip flops to take a break and they were scattered behind her somewhere. Between her hands she cradled a coffee mug, one of those mugs you find in art studios everywhere, chipped around the edge in places, stained on the inside. This one had a dolphin on it and Lucille had pretty much claimed it as her own, she could usually be found wandering around the art rooms with it, half full of coffee, or jangling a few bolts around in it when she was using it less as a mug and more as a bucket for carrying bits around, picking through boxes of parts and whatnot. ( A sigh widened her ribcage and then subsided, her eyes still on her work as it sat there silently glinting at her. )

[open]

At this particular second, Matthew Rizzard was in more pain than he’d been in in a very long time. He kind of ached all over, there was a spot on the side of his face that was throbbing like mad and probably already puffing up and starting to bruise, and he was limping just a little. The limp was pretty sure wasn’t anything serious. He’d just kind of landed on it wrong….or something. Really the bumps and bruises didn’t bother him that much. It just sucked this is what he got for trying to do something good.

There were always tons of predators around the school, that was undeniable. And also something Matt didn’t exactly ever forget. It wasn’t like he could, with his nice flight reflexes and predidar and with you know, everyone reminding him all the time. And he really didn’t care how much it went along with the circle of life or the natural order of things or how much it was just the way nature was. As far as he was concerned all of that could be taken in a whole new light when you were one facing down the teeth instead of the one doing the biting. So he did what he could to try and help out. There wasn’t really much he could do with the bigger things running around or some of the smaller ones, but the least he could do was do his fellow lagomorphs a favor. ( Again. )

Shelby hadn’t exactly had time to get properly settled in at Xavier’s since she’d arrived. When she’d first gotten here she’d been sufficiently awed by the school and grounds themselves to really pay much attention to anything else. It kind of felt like she was living on one of those reality shows where they put you up in a kick ass place and film your ever move. She had seriously been on the lookout for cameras for a little while. But she’d had other things to do besides go around like a wide-eyed kid in a candy shop or hunting for hidden cameras. Her mom had helped her haul her things to her room and unpack a little before she had to leave to get to work, and not long too long after that Shelby had to do the same. Thankfully there was a bus stop not too long of a walk from the school and she’s already figured out what transfers she’d have to take to get to her destination. In the little bit of time she’d had to explore before heading out to Gamestop, she’d been on a mission that culminated in her stumbling across the rec room. Which held all the gaming consoles she’d been told were here somewhere. Jackpot.

Her shift at work that day was spent with eager anticipation that probably came out as slightly over exuberant customer service. At least they knew she enjoyed her job? It was kind of the ideal for a gamer of just about any type. And thankfully they hadn’t made her wait for her employee discount, so upon return to the school she had been lugging a few bulky boxes that she luckily managed to get in on her own. After dropping everything off in rec room and then running back to her dorm room to change real quick, Shelby was setting up the drum kit, microphone and extra guitar for a good long session of Guitar Hero World Tour. She’d get around to the other stuff later, but to start with she dived right into singly player mode on lead guitar. Shelby was one of those players who got completely into it and within minutes she was completely rocking out, working the whammy bar like nobody’s business as the sweet sounds of gameplay filled the room. Oh yeah, she is so awesome.

[open]

[ooc:backdated a few weeks]

Matt usually kept quiet about his geeky little projects and since the initial organization, he hadn’t really mentioned project: Mini Bruce all that much. Like some of his other really fun endeavors, the idea was Mythbusters inspired and a take on the lifelike replica of the shark from Jaws they made one year during Shark Week. His version was nowhere near as complicated or as big and measured up about the size and weight of a medium large dog. As excited as he had been about the idea, Matt had also known good and well that complete replication wasn’t going to be possible, so he was going for a reasonable facsimile. Since metalworks were their specialty, Luce and King had helped him with making the metal shark frame needed. The process had halted once or twice to deal with craziness at the school, and then more craziness, but at least the frame had been finished before everything with the cure had gone down recently. He’d been working on all the internal mechanisms from the beginning and had just recently finished putting it all together in the past day or so. So it was time for a brief test run. If this went well he’d give it a proper paint job and do a few bits of outer aesthetics work, then tell King and Luce so they could get together for a proper inaugural run before he had to haul it in to NYU to turn in for a class project. Seeing these geeky ideas come to fruiting always made Matt ridiculously happy. Stuff like this was one of the things he was extremely good at and filled him with enough nerdy glee to last him for- well, a good while.

Hauling mini Bruce down to the dock at the end of the boathouse, he rigged the faux shark up onto the makeshift winches he’d set up down there and lowered it into the water until the point it was half submerged. There, that was perfect. Getting down on his knees at the edge of the dock, Matt reached out and flipped the switch to get it started. Almost immediately mini Bruce began to thrash a little as its jaws opened and closed, kicking up a bit of water. Pulling himself up to settle his weight on the back of his still folded legs, Matt triumphantly clapped his hands and grinned from ear to ear. The thrashing and chomping was all mini Bruce was capable of. But really, that all by itself was impressive for a second year engineering major. And he was certain his professors at NYU were going to agree. Oh my God, this was So. Cool. Right now Matt’s kind of wishing he’d brought something down here so he could play the theme song to Jaws and made a mental not to do so next time, but for now the music in his head would have to do. Duuuh, duh nuh nuh! Duh nuh nuh!

[Rin!]

Despite all of the attacks, explosions, and powers accidents that the Xavier mansion has weathered, the kitchen of the school is still in relatively good shape. Big and spacious, it's just the kind of mecca a streetrat with a secret love for cooking was looking for, all of his life, even if he didn't know he was looking for it until he got here. While he doesn't exactly advertise his culinary abilities for any of a number of reasons, Remy can, in fact, hold his own in the kitchen and does come down to it quite often to get the need to cook out of his system. And so it is that Remy is in the kitchen today, to scratch that particular itch.

He doesn't usually indulge in his cultural roots when making food since he can't possibly ever eat everything that he makes and not everyone appreciates the subtle, complex and completely awesome flavors of Cajun and Creole cooking, but today is not one of those days. No, today it's a full-on gumbo fest in the biggest stock pot that Xavier's could offer, complete with okra he no doubt conned and cajoled Storm to grow in the greenhouse because these damn Yanks don't know the first thing about essential vegetables.

So there Remy is, standing in front of the stove with a spoon in one hand, burning eyes narrowed at the pot as he thinks over its contents, looking about as put-together and not-street-rat-esque as he ever does, short of being in formalwear, a vague and pensive frown over his face.

[ this lame open is for Caroline ]

Trekking all the way up to New York from South Carolina hadn't been one of the more fun experiences of Johnny's life, especially considering the fact that he was part of a veritable caravan, hauling horses up to Xavier's School For The Gifted. He'd thought it was a joke when he'd first heard the offer, that someone that far away wanted to buy roughly fifteen horses from the Carolina's herd, especially with what they were offering to pay to cover the inconvenience. But his father had spoken to Xavier himself, and then Johnny was called in to meet the school's headmaster, and he learned the other reasons for the interest.

It wasn't just a normal boarding school. It was a mutant school.

He realized that he recognized the name, after that. It had been in the news recently, since those mutant attacks on the cities. Some of the people there had been involved with it, even, although it had also come out that they'd been controlled at the time. Xavier didn't lie to him about the number of strange events at the school, how they were targeted at times because of what they were, how accidents happened at other times for the same reason. It was one of the reasons he wanted horses there again -- their counselor had suggested starting up a program designed to help some of the students and residents cope better, using the animals. And Xavier wanted to offer Johnny a job in conjunction with that, helping the kids learn to ride and take care of the horses, while taking care of the horses himself. He needed someone in the stables who could help the animals, if traumatic things happened to them. And he could help Johnny with his powers, to boot.

So Johnny had agreed, and now he was finding himself finally pulling up to the school along with the other trucks and trailers bringing the rest of the horses. They went around to the back, unloading the animals and getting them into their stalls, settling them with fresh hay and water and such. He really wanted to take his own out on the grounds, out to the fields you could get to via a path in the forest, see what there was to see and where the horses would be spending a lot of their time. But he still had things to do here, not to mention getting his own bags out of his truck to store up in the room he'd been given. He tipped his hat up a bit, glancing back outside to the sun, which was just starting to hang low in the afternoon sky. ...He could go out real quick.

He went over to the stall that housed his own horse -- a palomino quarterhorse named Chopper, thanks -- and got him saddled up before leading him out, talking to him as he went. They'd both been too many days in the car, a run was definitely needed. For all the horses, really, but that would probably have to wait until tomorrow. He moved up onto the horse's back with practiced ease, guiding him out and breathing in the warm air. Maybe this state wouldn't be so bad after all.


(Open to Eudora)

THE DAY WAS SWIFT. Adjusting herself into the taxi cab, Eudora Ross, the scintillating, telepathic mutant looked at her current companion while letting an innocent, but minor deal of her bosom reveal themselves as she leaned forward to take her seat within a centimeter margin. The engine erupting from the turn of the driver's key formed squinted eyes as she placed her seatbelt around her physique, looking at Prince, Eudora smiled and stealthily scooted herself closer, her lithe arm against his much more muscular one. "I’m Eudora Aren-Catherine Ross, pleasure to meet you sir. You will be expected to act as I give orders, and if you fail to do so, you will have to personally deal with me." She announced, the grin upon her face as she continued to stare. Fun talk, dear. My imagination leads me to believe you'll have to hear this frequently, Frack darling. It never hurts to have practice. She spoke into his head. He certainly had been reasonably attractive. He would be fun, for the while. ( It hit me like a ray of sun, burning through my darkness nights. Think I'm addicted to your light. )

[ prince baines ]
[ ooc note: takes place on graduation day ]

While Artie Maddicks has never been the kind of person to really rabidly dislike any season, summer has always been his (not-so) secret favorite. While there weren't really any places great for surfing, persay, in New York outside of the Danger Room, but there were a lot of other possibilities for being outside when the ground wasn't covered in snow and nice. Granted, there were a lot of possibilities for being outside when it was, too, but being the closet nudist that he is, Artie's long preferred the ones that don't involve being in thirteen layers of clothing just to stay moderately warm.

Historically, Artie's attempts to enjoy the summer weather at Xaviers' have gotten him in trouble--and on one occasion a broken leg--but today the mute is apparently not feeling like pushing his luck on the topic of athletics. Maybe it's that he's finally grown into something like some common sense, or maybe it's just that he's still stinging from the close encounters his friends had while he was off gallivanting in Italy. More likely, it's just that the idea of climbing trees has not crossed Artie's mind yet, and if it somehow pushes to the forefront, even a previously broken leg won't stop him from indulging in the urge. For someone who's ostensibly as bright as Artie is, there are days where he doesn't learn very quickly.

Today, however, he's standing on the back patio without any particular immediate risk to his limbs hanging over his head--or beneath him, as the case may actually be. Set up in front of him, he has an easel with a canvas stretched over it, a paintbrush in his right hand. What's on the canvas so far is both incomplete and also not at all representative of what's actually opposite Artie from it, as he's not being an impressionist so much as simply enjoying the fresh air, but Artie isn't actually paying that much attention to it, because his left hand is abruptly empty, the palette it had been holding paint-side-down on the patio just at his feet, the splatter of red and green from the fatal fall spread over the toe of one of his Chucks.

Artie himself is staring down at it like he can undo what's just happened, a sad frown on his face and another appearing disembodied above his head.

[ open! ]

Frankly when she'd gone to pick up her brother form the bus depot in the city -- none of her family tended to fly anywhere -- the one she had been most hoping wouldn't turn up was Jesse, the oldest of the four siblings, but typically that was exactly who it was. Immediately her reaction was a Fuck My Life eye roll and a rake of a hand through her black hair, a staggered sigh playing accompaniment to the motion. Of all of them, it was Jesse she had the most issues with; Bennett, the youngest brother had been the one that she had managed to hospitalised but he was also the one that she had shared a room with her whole life and she knew that they were pretty okay now, she didn't relish the thought of seeing him again particularly but at least that was on her, she was the one who had left town more or less the moment the Ambulance had peeled out of the driveway. Trey was the middle brother, and he would have been the best candidate, level headed and calm, someone she could have had reasonably civil conversations with. Jesse on the other hand was going to be a nightmare and she knew it as soon as their eyes met through the throng of people humming around them. His expression stiffened, her spine went rigid and for a moment she felt as if the ground under her feet was moving like quick sand. Driving back to the mansion had been awkward too, there was little conversation, little eye contact, Lucille found that she kept having to remind herself to take air into her lungs and let it out again, like her body seemed to have forgotten how to react autonomously. If it hadn't been for King and Jaya willing to distract her older brother she probably would have snapped much sooner than she actually did, instead they managed to occupy him for an afternoon and Lucille slunk off into the Danger Room to let off some steam; normally she would have gone to the art room instead but she didn't feel like running into Kevin after their spat on the journals, she was mad at him, not that she thought he would care that she was, but that was besides the point; she had said she could handle this and if she bumped into him looking a neurotic wreck that would hardly back up her statements. It was that evening, the day after Jesse had arrived that things took a nose dive.

( Jesse wanted to see the hedge maze and Lucille wanted to not be hanging around inside all that much so she agreed to go out there with him. )

[narrative;; closed]

Jaya really hadn’t been kidding when she told Terry the answer to whether or not she wanted to grab a smoke was always yes. Granted, she didn’t chain smoke or anything, and still didn’t smoke as much as some people around the mansion but the habit was back full force. For about a month or so a while back she’d slacked off considerably and came very close to quitting. But that was because she’d just started dating Brian, and wasn’t sure if it was something he was ok with or not. Thankfully he was, because not getting her regular nicotine fix had made her even more of a bitch than usual- not to Brian, of course, but various people around her. Not that Jaya exactly needed an excuse to be a bitch to some people but it was still good to have one sometimes.

So many people at the school seemed kind of somber or emo or something along those lines right now. Whether it was due to the memorial, or the events that lead up to it or the secrets or whatever was a toss up in each case. Jaya wasn’t one to dwell on things like that. It was just the way things happened at Xavier’s- shit happens and then you move on. Looks like some people didn’t get the whole ‘move on’ part right just yet. Whatever. All Jaya knew was that after this week she’d officially be a high school graduate, and there would be a few blissfully responsibility free months ahead she had every intention of making the most of. Everyone else could mope and sulk all they wanted to while she was having fun.

It was starting to get dark outside now, evening slowly edging into night as another day drew to its close. Jaya had wandered outside for one of her regularly scheduled smoke breaks. As big as this place was, there were certain spots certain spots the smokers tended to frequent, and it wasn’t a very odd thing to encounter a person in pursuit of the same fix as herself, regardless of the conditions outside. At least it was pretty out now and not ridiculously hot. Not that it would have mattered as she would have been out here anyway. From somewhere amongst the roofing and eaves not too far away there was a soft snarl as one of the Gremlins scurried along their way to get into whatever mischief it could find. Sometimes it was amazing how much their behavior mirrored that of the girl who could control them.

[Terry]

Laura had been in the memorial garden before the ceremony, rooting plants in the soil, coaxing blossoms open by the markers and around the stage; when the last speech was finished and everyone had filed out, leaving a pile of cut flowers by the base where Kevin's statue would sit, she stayed behind. The garden almost felt like home to her these days, which might just have been a sign that she had made remembering the dead too much her own personal responsibility. She spent too much time there, too much time remembering names and faces, too much time tending flowers on graves that few people visited. Awful as it was, she just didn't trust anyone else to remember - if she forgot, if she let those details slip away, they might be lost forever. People who'd mattered once, who'd had lives and families and friends, might just disappear as if they'd never existed. There were people buried here who'd been forgotten by the rest of the world - if they were forgotten here as well, then they might as well have never been born, and preventing that was something she took personally. She couldn't protect the school, she couldn't stop the terrible things that happened there, but at least she could do this. Remembering, that was Laura's job.

( Delicate roots already trailing from her wrist, she made her way to the oldest markers, the ones from before death had become such a familiar thing at Xavier's. )

( NARRATIVE )

It was, actually, a beautiful morning. The sun seemed to have risen early, lighting the blue and white of the sky in a way that made it known there wouldn't be any storms that day. The grass was green and smelled fresh-cut, the dew glistening and not ready to leave. All across the nation, people were beginning to set out or set up for their Day of Remembrance, giving thoughts and prayers and thanks to the soldiers who had died, and for those who still lived, whether they were home with their families or overseas. Xavier's was doing the same, in a way.

White chairs were set up in rows before the makeshift stage in the memorial garden outside of the school. Thanks possibly to Laura, the flowers were all in full bloom, highlighting the strange placement of the day in the year. A memorial for those who had died, in the middle of the earth's highest point of life. Maybe it was supposed to be comforting, or perhaps just a reminder. Life goes on, and life can still be beautiful despite all of the death in it.

By 9:15, everyone was seated. There was a noticeable absence, though, new to this ceremony. The front, right-hand row was empty. It had been sectioned off as people were filing in, reserved in spirit for the members of the school who were no longer with them. Some faces from the audience were absent as well, people who couldn't bring themselves to come or didn't want to. The Intruders lined the back rather than sitting, shadowy presences watching a tribute they'd never had on their own, but could appreciate the value of all the same. On each seat was waiting a flower and a small piece of paper, with Frye's poem written on it.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

Xavier moved to the podium, not needing a microphone as his words echoed out mentally to those in attendance. It was kept simple, and short, but would feel like he was speaking to each attendee personally, rather than to the group as a whole. The words were what one might expect -- geared towards remembering those they'd lost as they were in life, not in death. Remembering what they'd lived for and valued and wanted for others, not allowing pain to take hold and twist things. It wasn't just the dead that were being mourned, though. There were lives that had been irrevocably changed forever, people like Adrien and Rogue, Sadie and Kevin, whose powers had placed them back in isolation. People like Scott and Lorna who had lost someone so close to them that it felt as though their own lives were slipping away. Even simply the humans around them, who had suffered a blow to their sense of natural security, who now had worries and suspicions in place that they hadn't before. To them, Xavier brought out the words of Marianne Williamson, made famous by Nelson Mandela. Words of hope and a reminder that they did still have in them a goodness that needed to be shown, if they or the world were to heal from what had happened.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

It was announced that instead of simply markers for those who had died in these attacks, there would be another sculpture added to the garden, created by Kevin Ford. For now, the marker made for the base of it sat in its place, the words of Shelley inscribed on it -- 'Peace, peace, he is not dead, he doth not sleep. He hath awakened from the dream of life.' Instruments from the music room began to play, powered perhaps by Luce or maybe by Cal, Zinman's Adagio For Strings moving across the garden as, one by one, those seated came up to put the flowers down next to it. Once through, anyone who wanted to come up and speak was welcome to.


[Open to all! Feel free to tag reactions, or if your char gets up to speak, etc]

It wasn't that Kate didn't appreciate it: the fact she was allowed to stay here, the fact that the school had lawyers on her side, and the whole basically getting off blame-free for leveling Times Square. But the boundaries of the property were feeling more and more like a prison, and one she was trapped inside somewhat voluntarily at that - she chose, after all, to come back here. Not under these circumstances, but it was a choice she made herself none the less. As the school assembled for the memorial service on the lawn, Kate instead got dressed for another affair entirely.

The name of the game was anonymity: her face (along with Sadie's) had been plastered on the internet and television like they were celebrities, and the whole point of this 'sneaking out' thing was to basically avoid reality. To forget, for a little while, that they were mutants who had done a considerable about of damage to the city around them. Though it was a cool day, the air was still humid; jeans, a t-shirt, and a light hoodie would have to do. Sliding on a pair of ridiculously oversized sunglasses, Kate pulled her hair into a ponytail and popped her hood up, looking vaguely like some kind of bank robber. That was ironic. She had enough money that they could disappear for a very long time, but she didn't see it quite coming to that just yet.

< You ready to go? > Reaching out with her mind, she gently probed that mental link she'd gotten so accustomed to, moving out of her bedroom and into the hall, heading toward the room where Sadie was staying. The link with Nate had disturbed her, on some level, because he was very dangerous on a lot of levels. But Sadie was a normal girl - what trouble could she really cause, with gloves on?

[ Sadie, obviously! ♥ ]