"Only half," she insisted. "My mother was a faerie. But we're not close, and I hardly know anything about faeries, and I'd rather be a mutant anyway. They're nicer. Mostly." She chose to judge her people by her chosen family of X-men and not by her biological family of mutant terrorists, thank you very much.
Megan looked down at her hands, started picking at her fingernails, chipping at the pink and purple nail polish. "Kind of," she said slowly. She might as well tell him, if she was going to tell anyone here. "It's sort of magic. Someone tried to take my soul and make it into a weapon, but they only got part of it, so..." She held her hands a short distance apart, about the length of one of her forearms and laughed mirthlessly. "Little weapon."
Rufio's observation made her laugh genuinely, and she flew over to another beanbag, avoiding hanging glass bits, and sat down daintily. "I'd say your right, but you never met Bling!. She's one of the students at my old school, had a body made of crystal or something. We weren't that close. Oh, also, Glob Herman was squishy and he was a guy. I guess it's different with mutants, though," she said thoughtfully, tapping on the beanbag. "We're all kind of weird."