Frederick was more than happy to get in his own car. The prospect of a long drive to the city and a gourmet meal in a proper restaurant was making him forget the frightful nerve of some people, who had dared to ask him to share his room with someone else. What was he? Twelve years old and in summer camp? He was a grown man, and a Slade, and he would have his privacy if he had to rent accommodations outside the Haven. Of course, he was ignoring the small fact that he would find it very hard to get anyone who would rent to an obvious mutant, and that he was unlikely to be safe from his own neighbors out in the real world. Weren't those a few of the many reasons why he'd come here in the first place? Well, that, and he honestly felt that he wanted to do something worthwhile with his mutant abilities. He just wasn't disciplined enough to actually go through with any of his plans on how to do so. But he was an Acolyte now, more or less. He was sure they would help steer him in the right direction, or something.
Again he was working himself up into a tizzy, he thought glumly, tossing his backpack carelessly onto the back seat of his car and driving out of the expansive car port that housed the mansion's small fleet of land vehicles. The original Xavier family collection had condensed towards one end of the garage to accommodate a ragtag menagerie of all kinds of cars and motorcycles and trucks, belonging to those mutants now living here as were able to hang on to their wheels. Frederick's light green Bentley was among them, He would promptly correct anyone who called it that by saying the color was Iridium green, of course. He could be fussy about things like that.
He wasn't nearly as careful with little things such as not turning around to reach for his backpack while speeding out of the garage and up the driveway because his cel phone had started ringing. This is how he came to not see one Jamie Madrox ambling along said driveway until he was nearly on top of him. An unholy squealing of tires broke the relative silence, and not even the fancy anti-locking brake mechanism could stop the car from swerving to avoid outright killing the other mutant. Even so, he still hit Jamie, hopefully not lethally.
Frederick screamed along with the brakes, and afterward sat there, trembling from head to toe and breathing in a shallow and unsteady manner. Finally, anger born out of fear overrode shock and reason. His car. His precious car. He'd killed someone with his precious car. He mentally kicked himself for wondering if the car was dented, or if blood splatter would damage the immaculate paint job. This car was his baby. It had certainly cost him a bundle, with all the customizations he requested for it. He stormed out of the car on unsteady legs, screaming shrilly.
"Oh my fucking god are you hurt? Are you insane? Are you okay? Are you fucking out of your fucking mind walking on the fucking driveway?" Hysterical? Who, Frederick? Never. He had never been good with nerves. Nerves made Frederick do stupid things, such as shouting at the man he'd just hit with his car, or giggling at funerals. He wasn't proud of it.