We are,all of us man and mutant alike,the product of four factors; Nature,Nurture,Fate and Choice. Some of us,most of homosuperior included,have little we can do about our gifts for they are a simple by-product of our genetic sequences,a quirk of biology and Darwinism in practice. Others have been raised into a certain atmosphere which has influenced their lives greatly. I name Erik Lenscher and Peter Parker as prime examples. Erik's hatred was born in the crucible of Nazi Germany. He watched as reasoning beings tore the world apart because of a belief and he was people persecuted for their race and creed. He fears the same storm is brewing regarding homo-superior and will stop at nothing to prevent it,even becoming the monsters of his childhood. Young Mr Parker on the other hand was raised in a loving and responsible environment. He was taught that with great power comes great responsibility and that mantra has driven his existence since his life was changed. When he first developed his powers he called this institute before he backtracked his memories to the bite. How I almost wish this young man could be claimed as one of our own,but I am grateful that he is spared the fear and outrage we face. These two show how Nature and Nurture can produce startlingly different individuals,neither of these men would go quietly into that good night,an inner force drives them to succeed where others would fail. I almost fear how the world will cope if Erik achieves his dream,or if people like Peter buy into his dream and refuse to resist...

Ororo Munroe slowly laid down the sheet of meticulously scribed paper,one she had found beneath a list of mutants awaiting the new school term to officially enroll. She had known Charles Xavier to keep a journal when he was younger,but to find an incomplete entry dated shortly before his death had sent a crushing pain through her chest even so long after his memorial service. Kurt had agreed to come back to the school to teach a course in morlaity,ethics and religion,along with some stealth scenarios in the Danger Room. Logan was of course teaching more physical subjects,including combat scenarios. She'd never know how Xavier coped with this day in day out,but it was something she'd have to learn...

Remy LeBeau leaned against the sandstone brickwork,directing a mild kinetic charge through his fingers to light the Malbroro Red perched between his lips,revelling in the carcinogenic inhilation. Not to savour the taste,not in the slightest. For Remy it was just another gamble in the casino of life. To him,everything was a wager in the game of life,nothing too valuble to be used as stakes. he lifted his cellphone to his ear as a beat up,cornflower blue pick up truck rambled past,a sandy haired guy in a cowboy hat at the wheel.
"Essex,I'm here. Dis is de begining" The Cajun scoundrel mumbled into the mouthpiece before hanging up and strolling into the Institute.

Nathaniel Essex laid his cell phone back onto his desk,nearly losing it amidst the countless sheets of data and theories,hopeless conjecture and prototype designs. A video feed on a datapad lay mostly concealed under a mass of folders. Essex knew what it showed,for he had replaced it there mere seconds before the call frm LeBeau. A young mang ravaged by an alien metal in sentinent form. Even held in stasis the material fought to consume more of him but Essex knew the one thing that could truly keep it in check would also rob him of this most fabulous specimen of HomoSuperior. The child originally labelled Askani'son whom he had affectionnately named Nathan over the years. A shuffle behind him caused him to turn round and address his visitor.
"Ah,Nicholas,these new weapon schematics you asked me to peruse are simply splendid,but I have a few minor modifications that could be made."

Ororo's reverie died as surely as Xavior as the phone went, she answered it with a practiced ease of manner and politeness. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?"

Ororo sat up straight hearing the question but not necesserily fond of the drawl voice, someone cynical and a bit overuse to talking on the phone to people it thought was a waste of time. Defintiely a civil servant. "Yes"

The voice scrawled immediately as it got the answer it looked for. It blared out the words so fast Munroe had to ask her to repeat herself.
".. and detaining a young mutant at one of the police stations in the area. Your "Xaviors School For Gifted Youngsters" was referenced as a possible contact for such a situation with this office"

Munroe breathed out, she'd need more than that before saying anything, did they think simply saying someone was being detained was worth a call and the problem would be lifted off them. Some peole saw the school as a solution to all problems relating to a mutant rather than what it was meant for, she hoped this fell in with the latter colum and wasn't wasting her time. "And?"

There was a pause and then "One moment please". Ororo heard papers being shifted and a throat being cleared then there was another few moments and the static of the microphone being tapped as it was replaced on a head heralded the return of the voice. "As far as we can tell homeless, only listed living relation father three states over, refuses to take calls on the matter of his son. Been in two care homes, multiple runaway. This time being detained for breaking and entering"

Munroes eyes shifted, "This time?"

She heard more papers being shifted and the slap of a heavy folder hitting the table top, "Breaking and entering, muliple. Theft, multiple. Car theft, multiple. Repeat accounts of assault, assault against an officer, assault with a weapon, vandalism, one case of rioting..."
Ororo knew she heard a page turning at that steady break and soon enough.
"...illegal fight bets, participating in illegal fights and.."

"I undertsand" the woman broke in to the phone voice that she had come to almost hate without even realising it "What if we don't take him?"

"Prosecution mam, he's already been in juvie and it says he turned eighteen second month last, it'll be full incarceration. Technicly now he can't be given into gaurdianship at the school as we know some others have been this is based solely on your willingness to make a consideration in this case"

The dripping sarcasm and cynicism in those last words was incinerating to Ororo, there was dericive amusement in the voice in the idea she'd be willing to make those considerations but she mantained her practiced control. "Has-"

There was instant silence as a hand covered the mic and it was some time before sound came back "Mam we were just made aware the body in question made an escape attempt but was apprehended" there was another few minutes of silence and "Mam, nevermind, we're sorry to have disturbed you-"

"Wait, well take him" Munroe surprised herself with her own suddenness but it was dispelled by the satisfaction of what she was sure she was hearing this time was choking surprise.
"....er, that is, I mean. Very good Mam, we'll bring him as soon as possible with all relevant paperwork"

"That you, whats-"
The phone hung up
"-his name"

Ororo munroe placed the phone down and looked round the room I hope I didn't just make a mistake

OOC:
DF will be up in the day or two.

Rogue swept the white streak of hair out of her face with a hand enveloped in black leather as she strolled nonchalantly down one of the Institute corridors. Freshly showered and smelling like a field of flowers, she couldnt help but plaster a smile onto her face. She was dressed in a black, skin tight shirt with a blood red skirt, boots and a shimmery scarf was flung around her neck. Today she had just felt like dressing up, regardless of it being an ordinary day. To wake up and feel a little bit at peace, escpecially in the tims following Xavier's death, was a joyful thing, and she planned on wallowing in it until it ended.

A few younger students ran past her, laughing madly and using their powers to playfully push each other around as they moved, and their noise pulled Rogue from her thoughts. She lifted her eyes from the floor just in time to see Remy stroll in through the front doors, looking as scruffy as ever. She let her eyes roam over him before stopping.

"Well dun' you look chipper today."

((Just something small to get into it. TO BED!))

The cabby pulled up to the front gate of the estate and gave it a rather sidelong glance before swinging his arm over the front seat to look Lucas in the face.

"You sure you wanna go der', son? I hear dat these "folks," he said as he did air quotes, " are mighty different if ya know wadda mean."

Lucas looked out the rear drivers side widow at the imposing estate. He had been training for this for as long as he could remember and he was certain that he would make Ms. Danvers proud. All it was going to take was sometime.... and he had alot of that. After taking his fill in of the area, he looks back at the man through his shades and lets his eyes brim alittle with power as he says, "Well, guess I'm at the right place then, because whoever said I... was normal."

The driver looked on in direr fear as his fare stepped out of the car door while tossing him a 20. Not even waiting for Lucas to close his door, the man sped off and was without a doubt racing home to crawl under his blankets. "Ignorance must be bliss," Lucas sighed to himself. He was now standing nose to gate with Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder as he pressed on the intercom button to announce himself. "Man,....If you guys thought stuff was bad before....wait til you see whats coming next." he said to himself as he waited for a response.



OOC: I know it's short but i just wanted something to get my foot in the gate.

The solitude of the early morning slowly ebbed away with the rising sun. Jericho liked the early morning. Not a lot of loud noises, not a lot of talking, not much of anything. That's what he preferred. He sat there, on the tree branch, overlooking the grounds of the school he'd been sent to not more then a few weeks prior. He noted everyone was on edge.

The former headmaster had died.

Jericho was saddened, the former headmaster, Professor Xavier, had gone to considerable lengths to track him down and bring him here. For that Jericho was deeply endebted to him, having removed him from the hell he'd been forced to endure at an orphanage in Northern Ontario, Canada. He felt safe around Xavier, something he had not felt for the majority of his life. The professor was one of the few people Jericho would converse with, due to his mutation, Jericho rarely said more then a few words at a time to anyone else, including his teachers. But now that he was gone he had no one to speak to, so he once more secluded himself from the others.

As the sun continued to rise higher in the sky, the ususal busy activities began to resume at the school. Jericho was far enough away to be out of anyone's way but close enough to hear the breakfast bell sound. He hoped gracefully from the tree to the earth and slowly and carefully made his way to the school, careful to avoid the large crowds of other students heading towards the dining hall.

The scruffy teenager moved quickly to grab his food, it was seperate from the other assortment of breakfast options. While others preferred cereal and toast, Jericho had liver and ground beef, both still very fresh and raw. It had taken the kitchen staff a few days to discover what he would eat. When offered what would be considered normal food, Jericho had found it strongly disagreed with his stomach and he'd thrown it up not five minutes later into the nearest toliet. So it was that his meals were to be specially prepared and kept well away from the others, for his sake and that of the other students.

As ususal he made his way to the back of the dining hall, sat down, alone, and ate quickly and ravenously. It was an old habit from his days in the orphanage. He would get scraps of meat on some days and none the next, so he'd been inclined to rapidly devour whatever was thrown his way.

Upon finishing his meal, Jericho slipped out of the dining hall and made his way to the showers, he needed to shave again, he could already feel the whiskers of his beard lengthen. After shaving he dressed in plain clothes as not to draw any attention to himself and grabbed the necessary books he needed for his classes and with his head lowered, hood cast over his pointy ears and scruffy hair, he marched to class, careful to keep out of anyone's path.