2014-07-11 Something New, Someone Blue
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Drake Ember Hank Scott
GMed by Random Acts of Spongebob
Title: Something New, Someone Blue

This was not what Drake had expected. The X-Mansion isn't a run-down hovel at all! No boarded up windows or anything. This is downright swanky. So swanky, the teen has had no idea what to do with himself all morning. Last night was easy. Get a ride over with Scott Summers, get planted in a room while the other poor guy gets buried under paperwork, and just sleep. He barely even had time to notice anyone else in the mansion. But now…?

Drake's found his way into the rec room, or what he figures to be such. Fortunately for him, there doesn't seem to be too many others present at this time - none with overt mutant manifestations going on, at least. He plops onto a couch and drops his head back, staring at the high-rise ceiling while his brain plays catch-up.

One of the benefits of not needing to sleep is that Ember gets to log in as much time in the various facilities as she wants when everyone else is sacked out. So she's coming out of the elevator from downstairs wearing sweats and a towel over her shoulders. As per usual when she's here, she wears herself as 'Ember classic'; a brunette with longish hair and something of a farmer's tan, but today she's set her eyes as brown. Shuffling across to the rec room to get in a bit of absolutely nothing beneficial to man- or mutant-kind, she pauses as she spots the current resident. "Hey there, new face." She makes her way to the bar and snags herself a bottle of Simply Lemonade.

Hank does need to sleep… he just forgets to. He also forgets to eat occasionally, which is the situation he is currently resolving. So what does the new face of the X-Mansion get to see? Well a large…beast covered in blue fur. His eyes glowing golden, razor sharp claws and carring…what looks like a years supply of twinkies mounded in his arms.

Some sounds whiz right over Drake's head. He's working stuff out, y'know? But a voice is harder to let slip. His neck realigns and those vibrant emerald eyes find Ember. "Hey, yourself," he greets easily enough. A warm smile follows, totally masking the tension he's been feeling all morning. His mouth opens to say something else, when suddenly Planet of the Space Apes happens right the Hell in front of him.

He reacts in a manner most people might.


This is followed by an almost cat-like leap from his seated position to behind the couch. Duck and cover, yo.

Ember, in contrast, was raised to be repressingly stoic as often as possible on pain of, well, pain. Plus it's hard to be surprised by what other folks look like after seeing her own actual reflection in mirrors. So when Hank, one of the residents she hadn't met up until now, enters behind her all she does is pause briefly in the drinking of delicious lemonade and inclines her chin upwards in a silent 'wassup' in his direction. Drake's 'duck and cover', however, gets a sideways stare and an impish grin that's hard to keep hidden. So she just looks from Drake to Hank and back again a couple of times before asking, "So… you've got issues with Twinkies?"

Hank meanwhile jjust blinks, tilting his head "Oh my stars and garters." He says cocking his head slightly at the boy's rather athletic proformance. "I do hope that is not the case, after all Twinkies are, quite possibly the only evidence on Earth that a benign and all loving superior power exists in the Universe."

Ember quirks her head to one side, "I thought that was beer."

Whilst Ember just sort of deals with the new arrival, Drake surreptitiously peeks his eyes over the backrest of the couch. The longer he studies the scene before him, the more he realizes his mis-step. The girl's question just seals it. And the other guy's follow-up makes him feel guilty on top of it. Those eyes shift aside sheepishly, and he pokes the rest of his head up above his hiding spot.

"I'm a recovering addict," he states. "It's… it's been a long road."

The new guy's reaction gets a smile from Ember, who snags a couple of glasses, silently offering both of the guys a share of lemony goodness with a raise of the glasses and a quirked brow. "Good recovery, new face. And good morning to you, older new face. I'm Ember, or 'lady new face' to either or both of you."

Hank raises an eyebrow at that and nods, seeming to soften slightly. His fur may have been a bit ruffled by Drake's inital reaction, but he nods. "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Lao-tzu." He says softly. "I am Dr. Henry McCoy, teacher of sciences here at Xaviers and also Resident physition."

Drake spares an acknowledging wink to Ember without coming right out and admitting he made a total flub of first impressions. And with Hank's quoted proverb, he gives a solemn, oh-so-serious nod. At that point, he picks himself up to his full height and maneuvers around the couch to join them. It's taking some steeled nerves to simply approach this "Hank" fellow, but he's doing a solid job of hiding it. For someone who's not encountered anything quite like him before, he thinks he's doing alright.

The glass is taken and raised. "Lady New Face," Drake greets with a wry smile. "Name's Drake. Came in last night." His eyes shift to Hank. "A teacher here? Scott said this was a school'n all. Do the teachers live on-site, too?"

Ember smiles at Hank as he introduces himself, "Ah, yes. Scott told me I'd eventually get the 'joy' of getting an Xavier school physical. So you'd be the man to see about that?" She shrugs one shoulder, "Would've sought you out about the exam, but… didn't want one." Drake gets a nod to his introduction. "I've only been here a couple weeks, still haven't manage to run into everyone yet. But it is summer. Oh, fair warning, Drake." She pauses as she tries to find the words, then just shrugs and goes with straight forward, "I've been told that a small dragon lives here, and that he's something of a wise-ass. Haven't run across him yet, but I figured you might like the heads-up." Is she being serious? Do you really want to know?

Hank sighs slightly, "Yes that does seem to be a rather distressing facet about new students, no concern for their own health and safty." He sighs, "Well since i have you both as it were, why dont we rejoin to the med lab and we can get the unplesentness out of the way as it were, hmm?"

Drake starts to lift the glass again, only to pause at Ember's warning. "Hahah…," he starts to laugh, glancing aside to Hank. And then he realizes that if Hank is a totally real thing that happens to be existing right beside him currently, there's a chance she's not screwing with him. The laughter is cut abruptly.

He might have had a crack to make about that, too. Only the topic's suddenly and inexplicably turned to physical exams. A new, somewhat mortified look comes to the teen's face. For whatever reason, the thoughts of a giant furry blue creature examining his physicals is, indeed, unpleasant. So he's quick to rebuff: "I-I'm not a student! I was just brought in last night! Hardly even met anyone, too!"

Ember (very) briefly considers that maybe she shouldn't keep messing with the new guy. Except… she was born to poke the bear. Just the way she's wired. So with her lemonade bottle in one hand she steps back from behind the bar and up next to Drake, "Yes, you might have mentioned the 'just got in last night' part a couple times." She reaches over and gives him a quick, light 'Gibbs smack' on the back of the head. "Maybe the needle's stuck. Did that help?" As she does this she grins sideways at Hank, "Is this kind of reaction common with new folks here? And… I'm all about being healthy and such. I just… really don't like taking my face off."

Hank sighs a bit, in an exasperated tone. "Often it is unfortunately. And irregaurdless of your current state of enrollment the matter of a simple physical exam to insure your own health is not open for debate. Consider it penance for your rather impolite reaction to first seeing…my twinkies." Hank takes his twinkies very seriously. "And you too," He says to Ember. "Best to get the procedure over with.

To Ember's credit, she might be onto something. For when hand hits head, all semblance of lightheartedness and uncertainty is gone. There is only an icy look and terse warning.

"/Don't/ do that."

The legitimacy of Drake's old gang could be put into question in a number of ways, but he's never tolerated being a punching bag. Not from his crew, from strangers, or even his family - perceived or real. And testing his limits when he's already on the defensive, in a new environment, and dealing with things may not have the most fun results. Yet, given a second or two, the teen pinches a forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose.

"Whatever. Alright. I'll do it." … "For the twinkies."

When Drake reacts as he does to the light head-smack, Ember's response is to quickly tuck her arms behind her back and duck her head contritely. It's got nothing to do with thought, it just happens and she holds that pose for a few seconds before shaking out of it and nodding to Hank as if nothing had happened. "For the Twinkies, then. But… that's a lot of Twinkies and nothing to hold them in. Here, let me help with that." There is a small but noticable decrease in the room's light level as Ember holds her hands out in front of her. Where light reduces elsewhere, it increases between her hands into the general shape of an oversized grocery bag. She drops the bottle of lemonade into the light bag when it's half-formed, both so she can hold the 'bag's' handles and to show that it's solid enough.

Hank seems nervious about letting the golden confections from his fuzzy blue grasp, but after a moment he dumps them into Ember's light sack and tilts his head, "Facinating." He says curiously, "Do you have to remain in direct contact with the manifistation for it to maintain substantibility?" he asks leading the pair to the elevator and down to the medlab.

Seeing Ember duck down like that brings Drake no joy. He considers making some small gesture to ease the air a bit, but she's suddenly perked right back out of it. So with a blink, he decides to let it go. This is also in favor of finding out what Lady New Face's mutant ability is. "Huh. Cool. Is there a word for that that you're doing, or is it just totally you?"

Either way, Hank is followed into the medical area. It's taken in with quiet awe, but equal parts understanding. It only makes sense they'd have something like this in the mansion, all things considered. But he's immediately scanning for discreet partitions between the beds and such. Because, y'know. Physical exams.

Ember goes with the others down to the medlab, one of the places she'd managed to avoid thus far. To Hank's question she nods, "So far, yes. But it's amazingly easy to remain connected when it's just hyper-condensed light. I could set it down," which she demonstrates inside the medlab by putting the bag on Hank's desk, "and stay connected by just forming a 'string' between it and me. Just have to be careful not to let anyting break the string. And I don't know if there's a word for what I can do," is her reply to Drake. "I just know that light energizes me and that I can make it into my little cupcake frosted bitch whenever I need to." She says this last with the sweetest, most innocent expression and childlike voice. Just to keep everyone guessing.

Hank sighs slightly, gesturing to the desk for a place for Ember to set down his twinkies, but he shakes his head slightly. "Ms. Reynolds, while I do not normally trouble myself with matters of verbal rules of the school, I would ask, with all due politeness that you do not use such corse language here in my Medlab. I find it offencive to the spoken word, and frankly a sign of lazy speach." He pats the lab table and adds, "And it just volinteared you to begin the proceedings."

"Neat. Convenient."

And when Hank makes his conclusion, "Oh snap." But that leaves the question of privacy and discretion. Emerald eyes flit hither and thither before finally landing on Hank. Drake's head cocks to the side. "Where do you want me in the meantime? Waiting outside? Or…?"
You are empty-handed.

It's there in her eyes, Ember's strong desire to 'poke the bear' with Hank by an upward nudging of her overall coarseness. But then he has to go and be all authoritative and tap her as the first to get poked and prodded. So she just deflates a bit and offers a soft, "Yes, Doctor McCoy," before getting herself situated on the lab table. Drake's discomfiture does make her feel a bit better, because she's not the only uncomfortable one here this morning. But she still manages to sound appreciably non-sarcastic when she shrugs at his question, "I doubt that this is a 'drop trou and put on the backless gown' kind of exam, Drake. Besides, my clothes are usually real when I'm here. It's just…" at that she runs a hand through her hair with a shrug. "Let me know if you really need me to de-skin for this, Doctor McCoy. Hopefully you'll be able to read my vitals without it."

Hank nods slightly, "No this is nothing too much more invasive then what you would recive at your General Practitioner's office. A Base line for your medical files and such." He adds to Drake, "And as long as it is alright with Ms. Reynolds you can simply wait your turn there." He says gesturing to a nearby chair and taking a fresh chart. "Alright, you may, as you put it, de-skin."

It's no accident that several of the more notable practice rooms are located in such close proximity to the medlabs. Convenient for the injured and just as convenient for any faculty checking up on the students. Scott strides into the room fresh from training, the breath only just gathered after some strenuous actvity. His hair is slicked down with sweat, as is his grey Xavier's T-shirt.

"Good morning, Hank. How are our newest guests doing, today?" Scott asks, lifting the towel to dab the sweat from his brow. "Getting inocculated?"

Drake does as bid and takes a seat. He's a bit comforted by the idea that this isn't going to be the truly invasive type of physical. He's had enough awkward moments for one day, and the day's only just taking off. Though that doesn't mean he isn't highly curious as to this whole 'de-skinning' thing Ember keeps referring to. Her thing was light, wasn't it? What could that have to do with her skin? Are things about to get all gross and Quentin Tarantino up and in here?

As Scott enters, Drake kicks back and folds his arms behind his head. "'Sup, Scott?," he greets.

Around here, Ember isn't sure who, if anyone has picked up on the more subtle function of her power, because it's something she's always using and she's careful not to alter her appearance much beyond changing eye color when she's on the grounds. So she just nods when Hank tells her to go ahead and de-skin, seeming to shrink into herself without actuall becoming any smaller. What does happen is that a soft but strong glow starts to eminate from beneath her skin, a glimmer of shifting light that never sits still as her appearance takes on a the slightly wrong look of bad 90's bluescreen CGI.

Except for her arms. Those no longer look like the somewhat farmer's tan arms of a youth who enjoys the outdoors. Now they're a semi-luminescent light blue with what look like gemstone chips embedded in the skin and fingernails that appear to be smooth crystal.
Scott's entrance just gets a quiet nod to acknowledge his arrival. Otherwise, and for perhaps the first time in a while, Ember just stays quiet.

Hank nods slightly and begins the process of checking the young mutant's vitals. he offers a beastial smile to Scott and says "Ahh, hello Fearless. I assume your physical exertion went well." He asks, casually nodding to the fridge he keeps in the med lab with sports drinks, indicating for the man to rehydrate. " He nods again to Ember "Any Alergies or medical conditions I should be aprised of before we begin?"
Hank effectively reminds Scott who, at his urging, raids the fridge for a large Gatorade. He sips at it thoughtfully then flashes a smile of greeting to Drake. "I see you've already met Doctor McCoy and Ember. How are you feeling?"

"Frayed, bro. Frayed," replies Drake. His eyes are, however, glued to the CGI wonderland that is Ember at current. "S'what I was looking for, but at the same time, it's a lot to take in." It takes some effort, but the dark-haired teen draws his eyes away from the sparkly lightshow to regard Scott directly. "The Doc here has insisted I get checked out, so here I am. But, uh… what's gonna happen to me at this point?"

"Getting smashed to dust by giant, green walls of muscle. Also the absence of light, and I'm rather a bit easier to break than most people," is Ember's immediate response to Hank's question about alergies. This is accompanied by occasional shifts of her gaze towards and then away from the others in the room. After a few moments she just shrugs and drops her personal illusion altogether; leaving the hairless, glowing, light-blue, gem-encrusted, and nearly invisible eyes that are the real her below how she wears herself.

Hank smiles just a little bit at her comment about being smashed by Green walls of muscle, "Well it's been my experiance that large green Giants alert you of their presence with loud Ho Ho Ho's," He says amused, moving to check her blood pressure, reflexes, ect.

"It can be a lot to take in." Scott agrees, turning away to drink in order to provide some semblance of privacy. At the mention of giants, Summers only frowns. "Green giant? Did you have a run-in with the Hulk?"

Drake, unanswered, looks back to Ember. Her whole facade is dropped, leaving her rather sparkly, blue, and definitely unlike anything he's seen before. Except maybe in Twilight.

His right eye twitches.

'Don't make a vampire joke, don't make a vampire joke, don't make a vampire joke…'

"You look kind'a like an aquamarine," Drake offers up. "Definitely winning on uniqueness there, Ember." The girl was obviously hesitant about showing this, and he could guess why. Likely reasons similar to why he's here in the first place. So a supportive word with smile to match just felt like the right way to go.

Ember sits through the exam without any complaint. It's a delightfully normal part of living in a place where most other forms of 'normal' seem to have offed themselves long ago. Her vitals are a bit slower than normal, her reflexes quite a bit faster, and any attempt to give her an eye exam is simply doomed to failure from the start. When Drake offers a compliment on her appearance, hers is a very teen girl reaction. Small smile, brief ducking of the head and a blush that on her manifests as both a reddening of the face and a slight dimming of her body-glow, and a whispered, "Thank you." No way of really telling where her eyes are looking, though.

"Have you gotten a physical yet, Drake?" Scott inquires, pausing mid-sip as he considers something anew. A moment is taken to try and tame his hair before he starts moving towards the door. "Listen to everything Doctor McCoy asks. Answer honestly. /Honestly./ With drugs as well, if needed. All the information is just to ensure any medical treatment is accurate."

Ember's behavior softens his smile a little more, and his attention is taken again by Scott. "Nuh-uh. Not yet. She was first." He sits up straighter in the chair, detecting his turn is coming up shortly. "I don't have a reason to lie about any of that stuff. M'clean." A smirk touches his lips, and he wags a finger at Scott in a mirthfully admonishing manner. "So suspicious, you are."

With a glance back to Ember and Hank, he notices the array of lolipops. His head tilts, a bemused look crossing his face.

There's poking the bear, there's keeping up appearances, and then there are lollipops. Ember goes with a red one, using a quick application of solid light to tear off the wrapper before happily popping it into her mouth. "Alright, Doc. Sounds like a date." She slides off the exam table and plants herself in a chair next to the desk with its Twinkie-covered top and starts back in on her lemonade. Because drinking lemonade while eating a lollipop is in all ways good. She nods to Drake around the sugar-on-a-stick, "Your turn in the hot seat, Sparky." For the moment, she's content to not replace her illusionary surface, although she does quietly turn her barely-visible eyes into something more normal looking. Because trying to look someone eye-to-eye sockets is just rude.

Hank nods slightly, gesturing towards the med bed to Drake, "Indubidibly. So then, shall we begin, I promise not to scare you any more then absolutely nessicary." He adds in an aside to Scott, "I am afraid I inadvertently caused a small deal of panic and distress in our young charge with my fuzzy blue self… Or he is suffering from aqute Hostesspobia.

"Once they get to know you it always becomes easier." Scott murmurs to Hank, giving a firm slap on the back. "I'm going to go talk to the professor. See what information we can get with regard to new students." He explains meaningfully, giving Hank's shoulder a brotherly squeeze. "I know you have your research, but can you help them get settled? Perhaps show them a bit about the curriculum?"

Scott flicks a wave towards the students. "Have a good day, guys. I've got some work to do. Drake, ask Doctor McCoy where you can get a PE uniform. I'm sure Ember can help you get settled."

As predicted, Drake is tagged in. He hops to his feet and nods to Scott. "I'll catch up with you later, then. Don't think I'll be traipsing off on my own again just yet." He makes his way to the table and hops a second time, perching at the edge. His legs dangle kiddishly from the side, hands gripping the edges. His neck cranes to regard Ember with a smirk. "Sparky, huh? Funny you should say that."

When he looks again to Hank, his humor drains. "Eeyeah, Doc, about that. Sorry. Just- took me by surprise, is all."

Hank looks amused, giving his nod to one of his oldest friends as they part. "Certainly Scott, that should not be a problem, but I would like to continue my reserch into that vial as soon as possible. It's… the strongest virus I've ever seen."

Ember quirks an eyebrow at Scott's mention of a PE uniform, "That's a first to me. I've just been wearing my old dance class clothes. But yeah," she nods to Drake, "I can give you the nickel tour. At least of the places I've been allowed to go. Which is, as far as I know, most of the grounds and all." She pitches the now-empty lollipop stick into the trash and starts to use the time during Drake's exam to rebuild her personal illusion while also listening to Hank and Scott's exchange. There is much in the way of questions in her expression at mention of 'getting information' on new students and strong viruses.

Drake continues to swing his legs idly. Seeing as the procedure is distracted currently, he turns his gaze onto Ember. "Dance, huh? How long've you been doing that, Aqua'?" She's developed a nickname, just like that. "And, uh.. what kind of PE stuff are we looking at? Just looking in this room, I'm getting the impression than physical mileage may vary…"

While he's addressing Ember, his attention isn't completely devoted to her. Talk of viruses? That sounds intense. Especially if it's something they're housing here. It's worth at least keeping an ear trained.

Ember shrugs as the last of her personal illusion settles back into place with quiet grace. "I was always in dance classes as a kid. And then, well…" she gestures to herself as the surface illusion is tightened so that her body-glow is no longer visible. "Haven't taken any classes or really practiced since then. But like a lot of things, that's been changing here." She grins at the question about PE, "I gather that things are done here differently based on each resident… student… whatever we want to call ourselves. At first, I thought I was just coming here to interview for a normal private academy. Wasn't until I got here that I was introduced to how things are different. But there's the full range of stuff. Got a couple of gyms, a.. what's the word… dojo, good sized pools, all sorts of things. I gather they've got somewhere to train the really crazy powers, but I haven't seen it yet."

"Any allergies or items of note?" Hank Asks Drake once Scott leaves, putting the blood pressure cuff on Drake and begins the procedure on him as well, "Also what is your power exactlly?"

"Sounds swanky. I haven't done too much exploring yet on my own, considering…" Drake pauses to shrug. "Y'know." No point repeating himself. "Gotta wonder what the uniforms are like. And I'm sort'a assuming this means they want me here."

Suddenly, Drake finds a bicep captured and smooshed. "I'm allergic to pain. I break out in wounds. Other than that, none that I know of. And I'm pretty normal, I guess." The question about his power earns a coy grin. "I'll show ya as soon as you're done puttin' the squeeze on me. We don't want mishap."

Now that she's done with her exam, has finished her lemonade, and is back under the safety of her personal illusion, Ember is feeling much more herself. Which means there's no way she's not going to poke the bear after a remark like that. "No powers while being squeezed? So does it involve puss? Or are you some kind of lemon-juice-man and just don't want to get any in the Doctor's eyes while he's got your parts in hand?" She shrugs about the uniforms, "This was the first I'd heard of uniforms of any kind. Although I'm sure Scott had it on whatever schedule he said he'd make up for me. I've basically just been making my own time here, mainly when the rest of the house is sleeping."

Drake's vitals are pretty normal. He's healthy, physically active, and shows great reflexes. Not super human reflexes, but the sort that suggest they've been honed. And once he's finished being poked and prodded, he snatches up a green apple lolipop and tucks it into his jacket pocket. The teen hops down from the table and rolls his shoulders. His hands lift to chest-height, palms facing each other.

"Nothing gross like that, sorry to disappoint. But it'd suck to get any of this in your eye."

With a sudden, bright flash, torrents of electricity surge between his palms, creating a bridge. As he shifts and adjusts his hands to different angles, the streaming lightning arcs and bows, contained, but extremely active and turbulent. He rotates his hands to turn the palms outwards, splitting the single, thick beam into ten smaller tendrils, each lancing upwards and inwards to connect to the opposite finger.

"And this is just a /taste/ of what I can do. Been practicing with this for 'bout a year now."

Ember's eyes widen as Drake demonstrates his zappyness, "Huh. So 'Sparky' was actually an accurate attempt at an annoying nickname?" She nods her head to the door while Hank goes to work on other things, hopefully remembering his Twinkies at some point. "Let's get scarce before someone else decides they've got something useful for us to do, yeah?" She heads out into the hall, "Want to start the tour down here or in the most important room this place has?"

Drake rotates his palms inwards again. Only instead of condensing the electrical currents into a single cord of energy, it simply stops the display altogether. His fingertips and palms? No worse for wear.

"Yep. Like I said."

The male starts after her at a casual pace, hands stuffing into the pockets of his jacket. "May as well start down here. Never even poked around this area." And for good reason; he was pretty sure it was off-limits. And while he's used to doing things his way, this is a group he actually wants to fit into. "And while we're at it, you can tell me more about yourself. Like… when did you go all gemstone-y?"

Ember nods and nods down the hall in either direction, "Well, there's a couple different basements down here. There's a couple of different gyms, the indoor pool, lockers rooms, storage, all that noise. There's a couple of places I haven't been shown yet. One's where I've been told folks go for specialized training or serious work-outs with their powers. No idea what the other section is, though. Just that it's senior staff only." While she's taking Drake to a few of the spots to poke around as he desires, she shrugs to his question about her own background. "I'm from Iowa. Started changing about four years ago. Things… were tense at home for a while, but I managed to pull through." Which is one way of putting it.

Poking around through the different rooms is well and good, and Drake seems to be drinking it all in. But it's with the indoor pool that he pauses and lingers longest. A contented smile edges his lips, and he leans back on the wall, taking it in. "Tense is a good way to put it. I kept mine hidden from my folks for a while. When I tried to tell'em about it, it…" His smile faulters, albeit briefly. "…it didn't go so hot. I had to go. Told me to not come back. Here I am."

His eyes shift to the right at her, peeking through the hanging bangs. "I'm from California. I /love/ the water. Pools, beaches, whatever."

"I left after getting the courts to declare me an emancipated minor. As soon as that cleared, I got the hell away." Not going to go into details on that one just yet, no sir. There is a grateful touch to Ember's smile as the topic changes to something she can actually smile about, "I know what you mean. There were a lot of lakes, pools, and a river back home. And there's more than just this pool here. There's one just as big outside and a huge lake through the woods a ways. I haven't been in the ocean yet, though."

"Never been to the ocean? No beach for you?," Drake asks. He leans off the wall and squares his body to the girl, hands planting to his hips. "You've gotta be kiddin' me. That's, like, /essential/. Something that should've been taken care of long, long ago with you. You just lemme figure out what I'm doing here, where the closest beach is, and I'm takin' ya there." He gives a curt, resolute nod. "That's happenin'."

Oh, he didn't ignore what else she'd said. He isn't too sure what 'emancipated' means, either. But Drake can detect a little sting in someone's voice. Besides, what's the rush? Apparently she's staying here, so they'll have more time to talk about their troubled pasts.

Ember smirks at the level of offense Drake takes to her ocean-less existence, "What can I say? It's a bit tough to find an ocean beach when the nearest salt water is about fifteen-hundred miles away. Besides, I've been to plenty of beaches. They're not only found by the ocean, y'know. But, well, I'm up for a trip at some point what with the Atlantic being so close." She nods her head in the general direction of 'upstairs', "But for now, I still haven't had a chance to get some fuel in me after working out last night. I'm heading up to the most important room this place has, the kitchen."

Drake squints at the girl, unconvinced. But he sidesteps to let her take the lead again, his hands delving back into his pockets. "The kitchen's the most important room? Is this a good time to mention I'm not much of a cook?"

"Of course the kitchen is the most important room." Ember peers at Drake like 'how can this be a teenage male' on the elevator ride up. "Where else does the food live?" Then she waves off the 'not a good cook' declemation, "No worries, really. Plenty of things to eat that don't require heat. In a properly stocked kitchen, such as we have here, all you really need is the stacking skills of a three-year-old." Upon entering the kitchen she starts pulling out lunch meats, bread, cheese, and various fixin's. But no ketchup, mayo, or other sauces.

Drake returns her look with an innocent, if animated shrug. He lets her explain, observing her stacking - or perhaps 'heaping' - food on top of a break slice. "…Sandwich-fanatic, huh?," he querries tentatively, the same sort of apprehension one might have when approaching an unfamiliar dog and its food dish. "I'm more of a… a burger'n fries kind'a guy."

Ember nods as she makes herself a couple of Dagwoods, "Oh, I've got nothing against a good burger. I did grow up in the place that gives the world much of its beef and bacon, after all. These are just quicker, or for when I don't want to do dishes afterwards." Once the sandwiches are finished, she takes a single piece of sliced turkey and nibbles on it a bit with a look of thoughtful concentration.

Drake turns to lean back against the counter, arms folding over his chest as he watches her. "Fair enough. So how're you liking it here, anyway? What're the people like? Anything I should know about?" Beat. "Besides a smarmy dragon? And is that turkey bad or something? You're makin' a face."

"Sometimes my body can't handle solid food, so I have to check first." Why didn't Ember do this before making her quad-stack sandwich treats? What, you expect sense from a teenager? "I've met I think about half the people here so far. There's Scott and Dr. McCoy, obviously. There's a girl, Kitty, who's my age but I think she's been here for a few years. Logan is… well, he'll be the one putting you through any physical training you might get. Trust me, you'll know him when you see him. Then there's Jean and the Professor. I've just seen them a couple times, but I've only been here a couple weeks. It's been good so far. Nothing like home, which is really all I was looking for. The whole 'mutant boarding house' thing is just bonus to me." The turkey apparently settled well enough, because she says this between bites of her Dagwoods. Aparently the reason she doesn't put anything gooey on them is because they require massive compression to properly eat.

Drake blinks. "Oh." Well, that's about as straight an answer as ever one's been given. "She's your age? How old are you, anyhow?," he probes. "And it sounds like I've got a lott'a folks to meet. I wonder if more'll turn up after summer ends." Or what they plan to do with him, what with how he technically didn't complete the last grade of highschool. Running away complicates things like that.

Ember nods as she finishes the first sandwich and digs into the second. Not one to screw around with eating slow, this one. "Sixteen. What about you?" She nods to the other question. "I'm guessing that things get more busy here during the school year. I still have to finish taking a few more tests to see how many classes I'll need to finish high school. But beyond that, I don't really know what I'll be doing here. No rush, though.

"So it's kind'a laid-back in that way? Good." Drake was never the scholastic type. Streetwise, sure. Book-smarts? Not his forte. At least not currently. But she'd asked a question! And at this age, who cares? "Turned seventeen in April," Drake notes. "So that's what goes on here, in a nutshell? People go to classes, they explore their powers, and just.. sort'a hang out, eh? Who runs this joint?"

Ember nods and yes, she's finishing her second sandwich in record time just like the first. "Nice. My birthday is in April, too." She leans back against the counter to let the food settle. "Professor Xavier runs the place. The mansion and all of it is his. I get the idea that the staff are folks who used to be students then stuck around to help out after. Kitty mentioned that there were some good stories, but I haven't been able to pry them out of her yet." Mostly because they haven't run across each other much, but that's just details. "So, I've said how I ended up here. What about you?"

Drake eyes her chowing down like a ravenous beastperson - though he's already met one of those today. The teen subtly reaches over to prod a knuckle towards her stomach. "How do you eat like that and stay thin? Is that another power of yours?," he chides.

Whatever the response of reaction, he clears his throat shortly after. "Like I said. I took off. Dad told me not to come back, so I'm not. I heard things were going on in New York, and figured I might find some people like me. Couldn't exactly go door-to-door knocking, though…"

Ember pulls away from the prodding knuckle, "How do you think? I just spent seven hours in the gym. Also, I'm an illusionist." She says the last bit with a haughty toss of her head, causing her hair to fly over her shoulder exactly like real hair would, if she had any. She listens to his other answer and nods, "It's true. All the various crazy going on does tend to limit the options." She leaves the end of that open, so that Drake can expand on his answer or not. Instead, she starts to clean up her mess.

Drake takes a moment to murmur, "Seven hours? What, you don't get tired or sore? Geeze, girl…" But that's all he'll remark on that. "So I figured the best way to find other Mutants is to make it obvious that there's one running around. So I knocked over a convenience store, made some news, and…" He twists his lips. "…it turned out to be pointless, 'cuz Scott happened to already be at my second mark. So no Mutants came to find me, one just sort'a happened to be there."

His hands raise to shoulder level, shrugging. "Life."

Ember pauses in her clean-up at the mention of robbery, but doesn't do more than shrug and continue. Hey, it's not like she hasn't done… things. "Well, Scott being there seems to have been a good thing. It got you here, which from all I can tell is a good place to be. And as for my time in the gym," she wraps up the last of the cheese and puts it back in the fridge. "It's all mainly endurance training. As long as I've got plenty of light to keep me topped off, it's hard for me to get tired. But as soon as I start using that light to fuel fancy power uses, the tank gets empty quick. Only takes three or four decent lasers to bottom me out completely."

"Yeah, it was a good thing. Wish he'd let me know somehow what he was before the cashier dude got squirrely on us." Drake cracks a grin. "I feel bad for'em. Not just the cashier, but Scott. He ended up blasting the guy. I was just gonna give'em a little jolt like I did the last one!" He shakes his head and exhales a guilty little sigh. "Anyway, no more of that. I'm where I'm supposed to be, I think."


"You shoot lasers?"

"Scott blasted the clerk? That's more hardcore than I would've expected from him." Ember hops up to sit on the counter so she's fully in the light from the window. She nods, "Yep. Lasers are just directed coherent light, after all. And as I said earlier, before Dr. McCoy shushed me, light is my bitch." She puts action to her words by pulling in the light from the window, condensing it into her hands until it forms a ball, then makes it semi-solid so it shimmies like a jell-o mold. "The lasers are a new thing. Figured them out not long before I left Iowa. I could keep making this even more solid until it crystalized, too. But like the lasers, that takes it out of me. Mostly, I'm just damned good at making illusions."

"Well, that's still useful," Drake nods along. "…And he sure did. He wasn't happy about that, but he did it because he thought he had to. I'm still not too sure how he did it - I was facin' a shotgun." Another laugh escapes him, starting to relax into the story. "They get so jumpy when you ask for their money! I've had people pull guns on me before, but not usually /that/ fast! As far as he knew, I was totally unarmed! These New York people are all high-strung."

"Probably something to do with his eyes, since he's always got them covered either in red sunglasses or the visor he wears around here." Ember shrugs as she lets the light ball slowly disipate so it doesn't cause a flare and shakes her head. "I think most people working a register for a living would be that way. Although pulling a gun does seem to be a coastal thing. Back home, it's more a case of let them take the money, just delay it so the cops catch them right after they leave. Then grab a beer and watch the beat-down."

"Well, knocking over stores wasn't my typical M.O. back in Los Angeles. It was more about nabbin' something to snack on or whatever. Didn't really take money." His shoulders roll in a shrug. "Used to steal stuff a lot. Can't even tell ya why. It was just… this thing we used to do. Feh." Drake bops his right heel against the floor, like an idle or nervous tick. "Go figure. I'm not klepto or anything, and I haven't done it since comin' to New York. Lots of tempting offers to be had out here, but…"

His shoulders bob in a shrug, and he repeats with a variant, "Meh."

Ember listens, shruging along with Drake at the 'Meh' moment, then slides off the counter. "Not much to say there, really. At least this seems like a 'clean slate' kind of place. And we've all probably got things we'd very much like to put behind us." What that might be for her is left in the dark. Robbery is one thing, but she's fairly sure parricide wouldn't be quite so easily shrugged off.

"That's what I'm getting," Drake says with a thoughtful nod. "At least here, in these walls, we don't seem to have to hide what we are. And that… that's awesome." He leans off the counter and glances towards the hallway exit, then back to her. "I think I'd better track down Scott or something and figure out what's going on. First step to settling in is to settle, right?"

A warm smile is offered the girl. "It was nice meetin' ya, though, Ember. We'll catch up again later." With that, he turns to head out, flicking a casual wave over his right shoulder.

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