2015-06-18 Sentinels and Secrets
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Drake, Dyson
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: Sentinels and Secrets

Gotta love Summer. Longer nights, later curfews, relaxed dress codes…

Drake isn't even sure he has a curfew anymore, though. It's a weird time in his life. Weirder still that apparently freakin' /SENTINELS/ are roaming around again. He has the television turned on to the news, marking the first ever occasion wherein professional wrestling isn't his go-to. The teen is hunched forward on the couch, arms resting on his knees, and bright green eyes locked on the scene captured on the newsreel.

Dyson has been sort of keeping himself the past few days. It's actually pretty impressive how someone so big can just, well, dissapear. Though people walking by his new room would probably here teh sounds of someone working.. hammering.. sawing, perhaps.. All accompanied by music. This is the first time the giant has left his room, really, in days. HE meanders into the recreation room, ducking beneath the doorframe as he makes for the kitchen area to get one of the two liters of doctor pepper that have appeared en masse. Bottle in hand, and looking almost like a 20oz more than 2 litres, he twists the cap and makes for one of the courches and stops just short of taking a sip, staring at the screen.

Drake is a focused, attentive guy. But when the floor itself seems to be shaking under the non-subtle weight of a heavyweight behemoth, he can spare a look. Holy cripes, that's a big fellow. Drake, otherwise woefully average, blinks a few times. But his eyes quickly return to the screen. The newcomer isn't someone he knows, anyway.

"You know about this?," he asks, gesturing a hand to the screen.

Dyson Seems to have not noticed the other.. student? Not yet anyways.. He just stares at the scene of Sentinels and his hand shakes aver so slightly.. He almost lets out a meek yelp as he is addressed, sounding liek a mouse, ableit a mousewith a squeak so deep it could resonate windows. "O-Oh Geeze." he pants, staring at the unfamiliar male. "N-No.. Not really. I've n-not been watching the news.." he admits, slowly, with that stutter-tinted voice.

Drake lifts his eyebrows at the other male's apparent surprise or nervousness. But he offers up a bright, disarming smile before looking at the television again. He might have made a joke about this other guy's size, but this definitely doesn't seem the time. "Yeah. Me either. But this… wow." He exhales a puff of a sigh. "Sudden, right?" He isn't even sure the other guy has a context in which to put what he's seeing.

Dyson really doesn't have a context.. at least not any that would share much with Drake. The smile does seem to make the gentle giant relax somewhat, though he comes off as one of those nervous, almost neurotic, types. Somewhere a little below woody allen but not too much. "M-Maybe? I mean, it's not like I know whats going on b-behind the scene sto make any judegment." he says as he circles around to a beanbag chair and flops into it. He sounds a bit.. neutral. "I'm D-Dyson, by the way."
"I don't, either." But he expects to hear more about it; a lot more. Drake shakes his head slowly as he studies the scene. Heck of a turn of events.

And then he's introduced himself. Drake suddenly pivots on his seat to look at him. "Oh, /you're/ Dyson! I'm Drake - soon-to-be peer counselor 'round here. Recent graduate. And I've been wondering when I'd run into you."

Dyson gets that embarrased look some people get when they figure out people have been talking about them. "And y-you're Drake, then.. Jose m-mentioned you a few times." he says and cants his head. "P-Peer councellor? Thats a thing, h-here? Why aren't you going off t-to college instead?"

"I will. When the Fall Semester starts, I'll either be taking classes in New York, or doing the online thing. And Miss Monroe used to do that kind of thing - I'll be handling some of the counseling now." But just on the peer level! He's very aware that there are some psychological issues among the student bodies that he's neither trained, nor equipped to handle. "Y'know, someone to talk to if you've got stuff you're trying to deal with or work out."

Jose had mentioned him? He can't imagine what must have been said. It's such a tumultuous relationship he has with some of them. "But yeah, it was suggested that I take you, Killian, Jose, and Jubilation to see that new movie - the new Jurassic Park one?" He glances to the screen and frowns. "Might not be so hot an idea now, though."

Dyson nods slowly, sipping his drink and then sets the bottle down at the floor betwen his feet. His bare feet. Seems he doesn't wear shoes, though he wouldn't be the first mutant who didn't, right? "Oh.. The O-Online thing is fine f-for high school and s-some college.. but it's almost i-impoosible to get anything beynd a bachelors. Anything w-worthwhile, anyways." He says it in a way that sounds like he has SOME experience with online schooling. He shifts a bit uncomfortably in his seet, at the mentio of /talking/ but does SORT of perk up when Jurrasic World is mentioned.. and his shoulders sag a little when he looks at teh TV. "Y-You guys should still go.." he says, softly. "I'll w-wait till it comes out on Blue-ray.. O-Or Vudu. I.. don't want want people getting targeted if something like th-those things see me. I can't hide myself like th-the rest of you can."

Drake shakes his head firmly. "Nuh-uh. It's not our policy to risk students, and if Sentinels are roaming the streets and scanning around, you're probably gonna see some tighter curfews, a new buddy system, and a tighter lockdown on who goes where. We had a similar situation when Jotun were running around, but this…"

Drake gestures towards the television.

"This is probably worse. They're specifically looking for people like us. We're all gonna catch it on Vudu or Netflix…"

Dyson frowns a little… His black eeys suddenly hardening and making him look a bit older than his nearly 19 years. "P-Policy…" he says, very slowly, his lips set flat. He thinks for a moment, then decides to risk it as he sits up straight. "W-was that policy instituted before.. or /after/ the faculty d-decided not to tell the majority of students here that This p-place is more than j-just a school for mutants?" he asks, though it's pretty rhetorical.

Drake turns his head again to Dyson. "Huh?," he asks. Is he referring to the extra-curriculars? X-Men? New Mutants? Hell, is he the only one in this damn school who can keep a secret?

"Not too sure what you mean, big guy, but the policy's in place to /protect/ people. That's the priority. We're a school for mutants, and Sentinels exist to either kidnap or destroy'em. It makes sense to keep everyone indoors and safe while that's going on, doesn't it?"

Dyson huhs and leans back. "Y-Yes.. I guess it does m-make sense." he says, ees narrowing a bit. "I j-just sometimes wonder how the p-protection part is.. enforced. I guess I w-will have to ask Cyclops.. OOps.. I m-mean Mister Summers." he says,.. Flatly.. Yeah, he slipped on purpose.

Drake's expression flattens. "…Jose, right?," he asks, monotone.

Dyson shakes is head. "N-no. Trust me, he was the one doing his best to k-keep it a secret. Not the b-best job, but better then s-some others.. Who were faculty." he straightens a bit.

"Well, since the friggin' cat's out of the bag," says an exasperated Drake, "yeah. The protection's a little more intensive than what you'd get by calling the cops. The reason the general population isn't told about this is because there are some powerful, important people who hate us just for who we are, and there are a lot of kids who aren't up for keeping a secret of that level. If they get nabbed and questioned, they've got nothing to hide, see? But if they get questioned and /do/ have that kind of information, the least of the repercussions would be this place getting shut down."

Drake's head cants. "We don't want that. For a lot of people, this is their only shot at having a normal education, of learning how to control what they do, of setting them up for a normal life. They need that security as much as the faculty."

He's surprised Jose wasn't the culprit - good on Jose. But the faculty is the one who spilled the beans? God Almighty, what are they thinking? "Why they'd just… come out with that, I have no idea. Guess they figured you're up for keeping the secret." After a beat, he bobs a shoulder. "I guess I could see their reasoning. You're on board, though, right? Mum's the word?"

Dyson steeples his fingers in front of him, his eyes closed.. and is silent for a few moments. HE inhales deeply, as if he is finding a center, then his black eyes open wide. "Of course I am not s-saying anything." he says, not sounding insulted but not sounding either. "I'm stuck h-here now and saying anything c-could get people hurt.. Or killed." he tells him

"Look, I understand what the idea of th-this place is. It's laudab;e.. It's e-everything I ever wanted. But n-not telling the students, or their parents, of y-your little mutant rebel force… Y-you're presenting them with hope, w-without telling them you a-are painting them as a potential target.."

"It's not something you can exactly tell'em," Drake notes. "And I dunno what they've lead you to believe or anything, but most of the kids here won't ever encounter anything involving the groups, much less be aware of'em. Unless they're changing /that/ policy, which," he waves a hand indicatively, "they might be doing now, I'unno. In an ideal situation, they /would/ know, and not have anything to worry about for knowing it. But if you think about it, there aren't many places in the world I know of that'd be safer for a mutant than right here."

A wry grin tugs at the corners of his lips. "With, y'know, mutants who're elite combat-trained and dedicated to protecting others like them."

Dyson's hairlss brows furrow ever so slightly. "I would b-be careful throwing w-words like 'elite' a-around." he says, softly. "If y-you start using that term your perceptions begin t-to change.. Look at Jannisaries.. or Nazi g-germany.. Or even Mujahideen…" he says, then shakes his head. "The p-policy has NOT changed.. And I promise not to tell the other students until i-it does.. But weren't one o-of the former students captured recently? What if he TOLD the enemies where this school w-was?"

"Hey now, nothing wrong with some pride. You wouldn't call the Green Berets elite?," chides Drake. "Besides which, I've seen some of the things these guys can do. Trust me, the word's way deserved." And that's only what he's seen in what could be considered casual demonstration! He's stoked to see what they can do when they're /not/ being modest.

"The school's one thing. But knowing what else goes on here? The people who're in a position to wreak havoc on the place with that knowledge don't have it. That's why the secret's so important to keep." But a former student, captured? He's not sure he's familiar with what he's talking about. But he notes, "In fact, I was nabbed by a government agency once. I'm pretty sure the person questioning me was a psychic - a telepath. If they didn't keep the secret, they would've known everything."

Something about a big ol' jet on the school grounds. Whether or not their line of questioning had merit isn't really relevant to the point, anyway.

Dyson digest this all, as if he is analyzing ever tidbit of data he encounters. While he seems slow and ponderous, and somewhat meek seeming, there is a feirce intelligence in those black opal eyes of his. "I w-would be careful likening y-yourselves to the Green Berets.. My f-father was a Green Beret." he says, sounding sad for a second but then shaking it off. "I was nabbed by a government agency when I w-was born… I know how b-bad it can be. But I ask you.. H-How do you know they d-don't know the secret and are j-just biding there time. I am n-not just trying to be devils advocate here. "

Drake's expression twists with a small smirk. He believes he detects some defensiveness, so he opts to not describe the X-Men any further. Maybe performance will speak for itself when the time comes. Either way, it's apparent Dyson doesn't believe him, or thinks he's blowing smoke. In the longrun, it doesn't really matter. He can't exactly convince him without citing specific examples, and he doesn't have anything on-hand other than what he, himself, has tackled.

So. Moving on.

"What if they do?," he counters with a shrug. "Where would you prefer to go? You've got the choice of staying home, hiding in the jungle or something, or trusting us."

"The reason this group exists is because, sad as it is, the government can't fully be trusted right now to protect people like us. That includes the police. So if you find yourself in danger, what're you gonna do? If you call the cops, you're rolling the dice and hoping they're not one of the, the majority people out there who aren't especially fond of us yet. Whereas here, you know this group's priority is your safety."

Dyson sighs and massages the bridge of his nose, and shrugs. "Is anywhwere truly s-safe?" he asks, slowly. He lowers his hand and puicks up the large bottle. "Look.. It i-is a lot to process. I didn't h-have any choice but to come here. My m-mom made me. I can't go against her choice. Not after…" he swallows hard once and shakes his head. "I guest want to be sure my safety is a prioritie b-because we are working towards makig the world safe for humans and m-utants both. Not j-just because a f-few of us feel we need to m-make a point."

"Dude, it's cool," Drake assures. "It /is/ a lot to take in, and apparently they decided to shove the biggest tidbit in your face right from the get-go. I had some time to settle first."

The teen pivots on the couch, bringing his right knee to fold over the cushion. "I'm still kind'a on the outside looking in. That'll change soon, but for right now, this is the best I can offer ya: they- /we/- are trying to make the world a better place for both. There's a group out there who wants to dominate humans; who see themselves as straight up superior. That's not us. We wanna co-exist. Peacefully. And some of us wanna use what we've developed to make the world a better place for everyone."

That seems to actually.. calm the large mutant somewhat. "Y-you do?" he asks. "Want to make it b-better not just for mutants.. Because thats what I-I have always wanted. I want to be a s-scientist.. a doctor. I don't want to be defined by my mutation's effect… I want to unlock it's secrets so I can help others."

"Perfect," nods Drake. "We've got a lott'a people here with advanced degrees. You're in good company. In fact, you should maybe meet Dr. McCoy. Did anyone do your physical examination yet?" He can't be sure who might've done it, but Hank was the one to administer his. It was terribly awkward. And co-ed.

"But'chyeah. The students are here to learn and get an education, where they can be mutants. The faculty's here to help them do that. And the teams… they're here to protect everyone. But we /all/ want to get along with humans, and impact the world in some positive way."

An index finger lifts. "In fact, Professor Xavier- you know him, right? The head honcho? He recently got back from conferences with government officials. Like, discussing mutant integration in society and trying to resolve some fears. He's like a diplomat."

Dyson uhms and nods once. "Y-YEah… I know Professir Xavier… A-and Doctor McCoy." he says slowly. "The professor i-is one of the reasons my parents won back custody of me when I w-was ten. Doctor McCOy handled my th-third party medical examinations to m-make sure I han't been.. abused." he frowns. "Not THAT kind of abuse.. from experimentation." he says quickly. "He flew up to examine me e-every two years… after that.. until about three years ago."

Drake frowns and folds an arm over the backrest of the couch. "Sounds like the government wasn't exactly gentile with you," he concludes, his voice dropping a notch. "You… good? How bad was it? My own stint was probably like a mini-vacation compared to whatever you went through."

Dyson thinks for a moment. "You have to u-nderstand.. They took me /hours/ a-after I was born.. They declared my parents unfit to raise a child wit.. special needs. They d-didn't use the term Mutant like they do now. All i k-knew was the Facility. And everyone j-just thought the government was keeping me safe.. But.. it was bad sometimes. They had t-to 'test' me. TO see what my l-limits were.. Most of the doctors were okay t-to a point.. COld by fair. And the nruses w-were usually nice. But the head of the program…" he shivers.

Drake's eyes widen as the explanation is given. "Oh. Snap. That's a heck of a raw deal." He straightens his posture again. "I can't imagine what you must'a went through. But at least you're reconnected with your real folks now, right? And you know we've got your back here."

"And hey," Drake snaps his fingers and points at him, "if you need something, don't be afraid to come to me. I'll make sure you're alright. And if you've got a problem, I'll do what I can to get it fixed up for ya."

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