That would have been Grandpa Himmelfarb, who had insisted on not going to the doctor until he was in so much pain from undiagnosed pancreatic cancer that there was no hope of saving him. It was almost always the two extremes with older men. They tried to tough out everything or were complete babies about every little sniffle.
He could understand the lecturer's time limits, but the more people knew about mutant; the real, hard scientific facts, the more comfortable baseline humans would be with them. "Maybe you can suggest he do a lecture on human mutation then?" he pointed out. "That would go a long way towards helping us. Any exposure that isn't us saving the world or attempting to destroy it normalizes mutantkind and cuts down on the fear the general population has about the unknown. It's human nature to want to analyze something and know it before becoming comfortable with it."
Adam chuckled at the suggestion. "Snot green," he countered. Yes, people would probably take him a lot more seriously if they fathomed the fact he could permanently alter the color of anything or anyone he touched at will. So far, only those who possessed mutations that allowed them to alter themselves or stop him from touching them could counter his ability. Luckily for everyone who annoyed him, he held himself to an ethical and maturity standard that prevented him from painting the person's ignorance on their bodies. Literally. "Purple's too nice a color to waste on pompous, overstuffed men who've spent more time at dean's luncheons than in the field doing the dirty work."
Come to think of it, Adam couldn't remember the guy's name either. "His loss," he admitted. "Since this year we have a megamorph who's all too willing to push his limits just to find out what he can do. Considering the ability of many of the morphers in general to copy things completely as to become whatever form they've taken on, you'd think he'd be more interested in that kind of data."