Out from the new day's mist I have come =[Open]=

[Megan Drukker]

Today's been a day for unique experiences - getting here alone has been positively chock full of them - but having to apologize to the Cabbie for shedding on his seats probably takes the biscuit; summers here are evidently a good deal warmer than the grey, rain-sodden July back home, so her extra insulation - the last fine layer of downy fuzz - had been deemed unnecessary and discarded (Megan wonders, not for the first time, when thinking about it like that had become so casual... It's a good sign, no doubt, that she's *adjusted* and *accepted* and all other sorts of psychobabble... but 'eck, it ain't 'alf wierd...). Luckily he's not quite so amazed, chalking it down as a minor inconvenience next to "Some of the freaks" he's dropped off at these gates over the years. She hands him the money with a meek grin, leaving him babbling about how much his poor old seats have suffered, pointing out burn marks and vines growing up "outta nowhere" and a million other vignettes, each one another lost little lamb sent through the doors and into the Institute.

Institute... heh. Sounds like some sort of mental asylum.

On the plus side, at least she looks relatively normal... Ironically, really, given that this is supposed to be the place where that won't matter, but it's a small comfort none the less. She hoiks the staps on her backpack, adjusting the weight of it, and switches her suitcase to the opposite hand, flexing the fingers of the newly relieved one experimentally before adjusting her oversized "Ace of Spades" belt buckle so it sits right between the man's shirt she has on, unbuttoned and hanging open like a jacket, over a Lolbat shirt ... tilting the brim of her stetson (she'd seen it at the airport and been unable to resist the jet black beauty) to one side to see if that is better, and deciding it isn't and reverting to the old position... rotating her homemade necklace of can-ringpulls around so the clasp is once again at the back of her neck...

... f'r'eaven's sake, love, get on with it

Right. No more procrastination. Megan strides up to the door and rings the doorbell, for the first couple of seconds swelled up with pride and expectation - Right, here we go! - which rapidly deflates as she waits for an answer.

_{[Megan's color is CC4125]}

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Josh rubs his eyes as he stares at the screen on his laptop. He'd been working on the research proposal for Dr. Jones for days, but it wasn't much closer to being finished than it was before. The thing required a lot of reading, and between being summer and trying to prevent the students from destroying the school, he wasn't having much luck.

So when the doorbell sounds, Josh pounces on it as a procrastination opportunity. He steps briskly down the hallway towards the lift, idly hoping that no one else had grabbed the door already - he needed the break.

When the lift opens, he sees two of their middle schoolers looking out the window in a decidedly menacing fashion.

"It's a girl. A girl we don't know..." One of them looks suspicious.

"Maybe I should flame her?" The other boy spontaneously bursts into flames.

Josh raises an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be thinking about setting our guests on fire, would you?" The two boys jerk, startled, and turn guiltily in his direction. The first one bursts out a hurried "Nooooo way, Josh!", while the one on fire just looks dismayed.

"Good. Since I'm pretty sure I told you not to set yourself on fire in the house. We just had the paneling redone." Josh scoots the two out of his way and drops a hand to the doorknob, briefly looking himself over. The combination of lab coat, boots, jeans, and t-shirt looked a little weird, but there was no time to change now. Hopefully it's not anyone official...

Josh opens the door. "Hi... how can I help you?" He looks over the girl on the steps, and spots the bags on the ground.

"You must be the new student Moira emailed us about. Nice to meet you, I'm Josh Dalton." He sticks out his hand to her. "I'm sort of on the faculty here, so I can go and dig your files out of the office and take you around, if you'd like." He takes a sideways glance, and to his amusement/irritation, the boys are goggling at the girl like they've never seen one before. And Jeremy was still on fire.

"Um. Don't mind Jeremy. He does that a lot. Though he's not supposed to in the house..." Josh shoots a vexed look at the two.

[Megan Drukker]

< Hi... how can I help you?
Megan bristles as the door opens - luckily, for once, not literally (which she is so taking as a good omen) - and then does a double-take. Either the staff here are far more casual than she'd expected from an ostensibly rather-bloody-swish Private School, or he's a student, or... what's with the coat? There some sort of secret lab or something? Maybe the whole *school* thing is a front for something else...

... no, that's just ridiculous.

< Nice to meet you, I'm Josh Dalton
He proffers his hand, and she stares blankly at it for a second or two before the penny drops, and she cringes and face-palms before extending her own hand with a slightly mortified smile and apologetic wince of a "Heeey..."

He keeps talking, and she figures she should probably introduce herself or something, but the shapes behind Josh, in the Mansion proper, steal her attention... bloody hell, is that kid on fire?

Feeling her panic rising - this so isn't what she signed up for - Megan's frozen for a second or two, only pulling back her hand when she feels a prickling in her fingertips (her first thought being a panicked Shit, what's this guy doing to me?! because not having a clue what Josh's power is - he's got to have one, right? - and seeing a kid robed in flame's left her with a few doubts as to the sanity and non-evil'ness of the Institute's residents). Closer examination reveals that... nope, it's just claws, her nails lengthening and sharpening into formidable talons. So much for normal... great start, Meg.

"Shorry..." she grins semi-apologetically... huh, lisping? That's new. A tentative exploration with the tip of her tongue reveals the reason; that so-called survival instinct has evidently decided claws aren't quite enough, sharpening her incisors into something akin to fangs. "Tha' ssshould go away shoon enougsh. I sh'ink, anywaysh..."

Gah, cringe. Seriously, isn't the whole point of this being 'adaptive' to make things easier? So far it's feeling like a conspiracy to make everything a million times more awkward than it should.

Maybe not looking at the flaming kid (she's staring, she knows, but she can't not because seriously! Kid. On fire.) might help. She forces her attention on to his companion, and can't suppress a giggle at his googly-eyed expression (one she's seen often enough in her brothers, the one that usually boils down to their being tits somewhere in their field of vision). Amusing, and also kinda reassuring... maybe this place might just live up to Moira's promises, because if he's looking at her like that when she looks like this... Yay, optimism.

Grinning, she flashes him a wink, and smirks "Whassha matter, chavo? Wind'll change an' you'll shtay like that, y'know..."

"Sho, you were sh... *ahem* sayin'?" - eyes back on Josh now, making slightly more effort to sound out words because damned if she's going to lisp her way through her first day here - "Grand tour or sh... somethin'? Soundsh like a plan."

Grinning again, she pops a half-salute. It's not been a perfect start, granted, but things are on the up.

_{- Chavo - slang for a young male}

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

> "Heeey..."

Josh grins at her, but his good cheer is slightly interrupted by her lukewarm response. She's probably just nervous. People didn't tend to get their predictions about the Institute correct - so some people were either disappointed or horrified for the first week or so.

"Ow." Josh yanks his hand back from Megan's at the same time that she does. He looks into his palm and sees a small cut there.

>So much for normal... great start, Meg.

>"Shorry..."

This all had to be a bit much for the girl at the moment. He recalled the data Moira had send over - she had something like adaptive shape-changing, so her body would create defense mechanisms when threatened.

Josh grins slightly and scratches the back of his head. "Don't worry about it. I read over your file, adaptive whatchamacallit. And seriously, I've had to deal with a lot more inconvenient mutations than this. Jeremy. Cut it out." With a pop, the flames disappear, and the two boys flee, ostensibly to tell their friends about the new girl.

> "Grand tour or sh... somethin'? Soundsh like a plan."

"Right. I don't think that Jake or Ororo are in right now - Jake is the headmaster, and Ororo is the unofficial VP - but we can swing by the admin offices and pick up your papers." Josh starts walking through the foyer, and points at the staircase landing."You can just leave your things there, no one will bother them for the time being."

Josh walks through the downstairs at a good pace, stopping through the living room and rec room. "You'll find a lot of the students and faculty around here on any given day. Since we all live together there's considerably more mixing and socialization between the two groups than you would probably expect." Josh glances over at Megan. "A fair amount of kids here were abandoned by their families because of their mutations, so we're a bit like a surrogate one for them."

He walks through an archway. "Kitchen and dining room." He waves his hand over at the dining area, then points to the appliances and sink. "We've a woman who comes in on weekdays to make lunch and dinner for us, but for everything else you're on your own. A lot of students will take turns on the weekend, but a good portion go out somewhere." Josh grins slightly. "Warren and I tend to get a little sick of the students by Friday, so we usually take a car to downtown Westchester."

Josh turns and points down the hallway. "Speaking of cars, the garage is the old carriage house. Once you've gotten a US driving license you can sign out one of the vehicles when you need one from time to time." He ushers her out the French doors and onto the stone patio.

"That's Greymalkin Lake out there. We've got a reflecting pool, gardens, a swimming pool, basketball courts, and a tennis court, as well as some riding paths out in the woods." A thought comes to Josh. "If you're ever on the basketball court and an alarm starts sounding, get off the concrete as fast as possible, okay?"

[Megan Drukker]

Is he... is that blood? Oh shit[/color]. Meg cringes. On the scale of things that aren't good, cutting a member of staff had to score pretty damn high, even here in America where things are, if her mother's doomsaying is to be believed, 'very bloody weird'. What little formal education she'd had had never really ended especially well - it was a coin-toss between *packing up and leaving with the clan* and *getting kicked out* - but expulsion before she'd even managed to register is a personal all-time best, and...

< I read over your file
She quirks an eyebrow - "My *file*?" - as if seeking confirmation from him that that phrase really does sound weird. I have a file now?

< And seriously, I've had to deal with a lot more inconvenient mutations than this
"I'm guesshin that's meant t'sound reash-shurin', aye?" she grins. On one level, of course, it sorta-is... on another; hell, what sort of freaks qualify as 'inconvenient'? She's seen Flame-Boy (Jamie, was it? Definitely a J name...), now, what else might they be hiding here that's an 'inconvenient' mutation? What sort of madhouse has she signed up to here?

Beggars can't be choosers, can they, though? And besides, these are 'her people' now, aren't they, 'freaks' though they may be? Or something like that. Yeah...

... ow. Two notes here: one, her theory that not-looking at Flame Boy helps might have gathered some evidence, or else the part that thinks up these crazy shenanigans has decided there's less threat than it thought. Two, having your teeth shrink hurts. The claws, it seems, she's stuck with for the moment - nothing nail scissors (or, erm, pliers... hardcore manicure...) won't sort out eventually. Minor inconvenience. Yup.

She tries to make a mental note of the names Josh is tossing around, but it's all in-one-ear-and-out-the-other at the moment, so she figures sticking with 'Sir' and 'Miss' like this is any regular school'll have to do for now... they'll put her straight soon enough if that's not the *done thing*, and it saves on having to remember names (especially when so many of them seem to begin with J...).

< You can just leave your things there
"Reckon I'll keep 'em on me for the moment, ta..." she says, totally on impulse - you don't grow up as one-of-five without realising that leaving things you give a damn about unguarded in the open is usually a bad plan if you want to keep possession of them, and besides, hasty exits (which they've made more than their share of) don't really allow you to run around picking things up so keeping them to hand's usually best - before realizing that sounds bloody ungrateful, as if she doesn't trust his assurances that they'll be fine... Eh, whatever. He's moved on now anyway, and seems nice enough, more than ready to allow a few small faux pas to pass under his radar.

Following him dutifully, feeling a little like a lost puppy, she's careful to nod dutifully and feign interest in what she's seeing, though she's planning on her own unaccompanied tour later on to better *scope this place out* - rummaging in cupboards and looking for hidey-holes probably wouldn't go down too well. All the important bits are covered though; the usual 'this is a family, not a school' bull which no doubt goes down a storm with investors, the fact that there's a reliable supply of food (two hot meals she doesn't have to cook herself 5 out of seven? Ace!), that people are allowed off-site...

< Warren and I tend to get a little sick of the students by Friday
"Warren?" She tilts her head, looking at Josh sidelong. Warren's... a student? No, that'd be weird - this is a progressive place, sure, but teachers and students with regular dinner-date arrangements? Very weird. Another staff member, then? That'd be... an executive dinner sorta... thing, and they seem to be 'in to' the whole *using first names only* thing, what with the 'we're all one big family' line and all...

The line about getting a US license also peaks her interest, and she blinks. They're going to let her drive? Maybe this won't be such a drag after all... She can almost see it coming together now; he mentioned a pool, and riding tracks, and...

... an alarm on the basketball court? Seriously? Her grin is nearer incredulous as she glances sidelong at him again. "Ri-ight... let me guess, y've got some sort of divi launch pad or som't hidden under there? Or is your power 'makin' everythin' sound like a bad spy movie'?"

_{- divi - crazy, insane}

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

> "Reckon I'll keep 'em on me for the moment, ta..."

"Fair enough." Josh continues on the tour. They certainly had enough students who weren't used to the trusting atmosphere of the Institute.

> "Warren?"

Josh takes a breath. He was very nearly used to just saying it like it was, but they did pick up the occasional homophobic student at the Institute, as ironic as it was. One would think that mutants, of all people, would be the most accepting of others. "Warren Worthington, my boyfriend - well, husband now. We haven't been married too long, and sometimes I can barely believe how lucky I am." Josh realizes that he's grinning like a stupid fool, but can't help it.

"He's the one with the blond hair and angel wings... I'm sure you'll bump into him." He hopes vaguely that he's not coming off in a 'Yep-he's-mine' fashion, but solders on. "Warren teaches political science here, and I handle our biology and advanced bio classes. I'm actually still a student - at Columbia, in the city - but I love the subject... and probably have a greater knowledge base than your typical high school biology teacher." He finally comes to a halt, and eyes her, half-expecting her to run in terror. Well, how did she take all of that?

> "Ri-ight... let me guess, y've got some sort of divi launch pad or som't hidden under there? Or is your power 'makin' everythin' sound like a bad spy movie'?"

Josh throws her an innocent smile. "Actually, I'm telepathic and telekinetic - I can move things with my mind." He narrows his eyes and focuses on her black stetson. It levitates off her head and begins cartwheeling through the air between them.

He shrugs. "Normally we're supposed to give the sanitized visitor-friendly tour on the first day, but you seem like the type that appreciates straight talk, so I'll skip the section on our standardized test scores and get to the interesting stuff... you'll find out sooner or later anyway. But let me say this... you have no idea. Follow me." Josh walks through the kitchen and into the foyer, where he presses the concealed button for the subbasement elevator.

It chimes, and the door opens. The silvery material of the elevator contrasts sharply with the antique wood and wallpaper of the aboveground areas.

[Megan Drukker]

< Warren Worthington
That rings a couple of bells... vaguely. Something about money and... stuff (okay, it was tough keeping up with current affairs when tv depended on patching in to someone else's cable and newspapers were what chips came wrapped in, right?).

< my boyfriend
She chokes, and holds it a little too long for her shift into *perfectly innocent coughing fit* to seem entirely natural... Definitely not one of the options she'd considered. The fact that he then goes on to qualify it with 'my husband' doesn't exactly help either.

Okay, Meg, breathe... Wasn't like she was a complete back-birth, didn't realize 'that sort of thing' went on, now, was it? But hearing someone be quite so casual about it... yeah, that was new. Because it wasn't something 'her people' did; Kale got married, and had babies, and passed on the traditions and... yeah. Not much room for 'that sort of thing' beyond a little banter before your parents found you someone nice to settle down with... definitely no room for 'marriage'. Not of that sort. It'd been enough of an oddity for her not to be engaged by now (well, up until the other oddity kicked in, because her parents weren't going to marry her off like that....) and...

... and none of that matters any more, because these are your people now, pet, so stop being such a twat and breathe, already Once the coughing subsides she offers a half apologetic, half hopeful "Jet lag..." (was that even one of the symptoms of this mysterious condition she'd been told flying would bring on? Whatever). "I'll be fine. Carry on"

< He's the one with the blonde hair and angel wings
... is there some sort of drug they're pumping into the water supply here, means people can say things like that without batting an eyelid? Yeesh.

"Don't s'pose 'e's got a twin brother with horns n' a tail?" she quips, quirking an eyebrow suggestively, and yes, it's a lame joke, but if she doesn't break the tone soon she'll have no hope of making it through the day without choking on her toes as her foot gets wedged ever further down her throat... Yep, great start.

There's some babble then about classes - political science? Advanced biology? Eek. Mumbling under her breath, hopefully too low for him to hear, she adds "Wonder who takes 'Alphabet 101' an' 'Colourin' inside the lines'..." before, catching his expectant back-glance and flashing a (perhaps slightly over-eager) grin and thumbs up...

< Actually, I'm telepathic and telekinetic
"Tha's a lot of big wor.... hey!" She swats at where her hat was, and where it now is, scowling petulantly at him, before tilting her head sidelong with an unamused pout - "Cute." - waggling her fingers in a give it back gesture and ignoring, for the time being, that he's managed to do it with... what? Magic squinting power of doom? Whatever. It's weird.

His next speech takes her aback (not, in itself, especially remarkable, since everything he's said thus far seems to have served to get her jumping one way or another)... sounds like she's won some sort of trust to be taken into confidence on day one... it's a little unsettling, not knowing exactly what he's measuring as the characteristic worthy of such investment, but whatever. Trust's neat. And... the 'interesting' stuff? Oooh...

< Follow me
There's a chime, and a door in the wall opens, revealing... a lift? Wow, some secret, that. Americans must be really impressed with not having to climb the stairs, or something... a lift.

Megan pokes her head past Josh and peers around inside the revealed chamber. It's very silvery, certainly, and... nope, still a lift. "You guys need to fire y'r decorator. Don't really fit the whole 'antique' thing y'have goin' on here..."

[Warren Worthington III]

> " Warren Worthington…"

Some years earlier, Warren had read an article in Psychology Today about the cocktail-party effect… the way people can “tune out” lots of voices at a party but still hear their names being called, or recognize a familiar voice. He recognized it instantly; with his sensitive hearing the only way he can ever concentrate on anything in a space as crowded at the Institute, but certain sounds always get his attention.

Unsurprisingly, the sound of Josh’s voice mentioning his name is one of them. And far more likely to be interesting than the insurance claims he’s dealing with after the Mall disaster. And, really, any distraction in a storm…

He amuses himself by listening to the conversation as he comes down the stairs, then pipes up as the elevator opens: "Taking those backwards: True, but it’s not meant to. It means he can talk with people and steal young ladies’ hats. Toni normally handles Coloring in the Lines, and I think we can assign Alphabet 101 to Silas as an independent study. And only for about half an hour, a couple of Halloweens ago, and we’re going to try never to do that again. Oh, and: yes, that’s right." He’s counting off on his fingers as he goes along, and lets his wings half-arch out once he gets off the stairs, extends a hand. "I take it you’re Megan? Welcome to the Institute."

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

> ... and none of that matters any more, because these are your people now, pet, so stop being such a twat and breathe, already

Josh raises an eyebrow at Megan’s display of coughing. He was slightly nonplussed, given her reaction, but the few mental thoughts he’d inadvertently caught off her seemed to indicate surprise more than anything. His eyes light up with dark humor, not being able to resist a jab - “I hope you’re not one of those ‘gay marriage killed the dinosaurs’ people, otherwise we might have an issue.” A sly smile crosses his face.

> "Cute."

Josh eyes the hat, sending it through a few more spirals, before finally dropping it back on Megan’s head. “I try. I usually work with students on their powers… maybe we can have a session after you settle in? Show me what you can do?”

> Wow, some secret, that. Americans must be really impressed with not having to climb the stairs, or something... a lift.

> Oh, and: yes, that’s right."

Josh grins as Warren makes his way down the stairs. You bet your sexy ass that’s right. Come to break in the newbie with me? I love watching their brains break on the next tour stop. After the other two shake hands, Josh gives Warren a peck on the cheek. “Missed you. My proposal is torture right now…”

“Megan? Meet Warren.”

[Megan Drukker]

< I hope you're not one of those 'gay marriage killed the dinosaurs' people...
Busted. Clearly the coughing fit wasn't quite subtle enough. She rushes to explain, her cheeks burning with a crimson heat.

"No! Not... Totally not. We're, erm, we're cool. Well, me Mam won't be invitin' the pair of y'around for dinner any time soon." - a nervous giggle - "but, eh..." Megan gesticulates wildly, waving her hands and hoping Josh understands what she's getting at, before falling silent and wishing the floor would just hurry up and swallow her already.

She scowls again, and re-adjusts the hat once it's plopped back into place, making sure it sits 'just so'.

< I usually work with students on their powers… maybe we can have a session after you settle in? Show me what you can do?
"We can 'ave a session any time y'want, pet" - she shoots back without thinking, too used to the playful banter of the campsite, tagging a sleazy wink on for good measure - "Long as 'Warren' don't mind, at least..."

... the 'show me what you can do' part might be a problem, though. Because she doesn't actually *do* anything, not really. It's all *done* for her - according to McTaggert, it was all some complicated genetic-jiggery-pokery to do with reacting to perceived environmental threats, or something... which would mean Josh'd have to trigger it to see 'what she could do', and that meant...

Nah, no way they'd get away with deliberately putting a student in a dangerous situation. Pssh.

< Taking those backwards:
... this, then, would be Warren. Don'tstareatthewings-don'tstareatthewings-don'tstareatthewings-don'tstareatthe... shit, I'm'a starin'.... Megan forces her attention elsewhere; floorboards! Those are interesting, right?

He's talking to her though, which makes keeping her eyes downcast a whole lot harder, so she drags her eyeline up to meet his - don'tstareatthewings-don'tstareatthewings-don'tstareatthewings - and nods, with a strained smile, as... how in the name of all that's holy did he hear all that? Remembering and reciting off answers in reverse order's also pretty damn impressive even if (her smile broadens slightly noticing) he does have to count it off on his fingers.

< I take it you’re Megan? Welcome to the Institute
Megan nods, still slightly dumbstruck, and shakes perhaps a little too vigorously, releasing a little quicker than etiquette would usually deem entirely proper.

Credit where it's due, she *does* manage to keep her eyebrows from raising at the kiss, though the strain feels like her eyes are bulging, goldfish-like, and a hard swallow slips through the net while she's concentrating on setting her features right.

< Meet Warren
She's been silent way too long, and recognises that as a queue to make with the niceties, so veritably explodes once her mouth gets working again. "Yes, hi, guessed - wings, bit of a give-away" - another nervous giggle - "Shw mae, 'n all that... You're Mr. Dalton, then? Or is 'e Mr. Worthin'ton?" Aware her mouth is running away with her, she adds an apologetic. "... no idea what's comin' over me, jabbering like this. Totally gay."

... totally *not* the people to say that around. She claps her hands over her mouth, flushing a deeper crimson.

"I can' believe I jus' said that... Don't suppose y'have anyone here who c'n turn back time? Cos I'd kinda like f'that not to 'ave 'appened...

<sub>- Shw Mae - welsh greeting, serves as both 'hi' and 'how are you?'
- using gay here as a synonym for 'lame'</sub>

[Warren Worthington III]

> " I hope you’re not one of those ‘gay marriage killed the dinosaurs’ people, "

Warren’s eyes widen in shock. "The dinosaurs are dead? Nobody told me! Damn, I told the maintenance crew not to give them the whole cow at once…" He gives Megan a reassuring wink, hoping to let this particular awkward subject glide by.
.
> " Missed you. My proposal is torture right now… "

"Any time you wanna switch, you can fill out the insurance claims from destroying the mall… "

> " Yes, hi, guessed - wings, bit of a give-away "

"Yeah, I get that a lot. By the way, it’s OK to look at them. If I’d wanted them hidden, I’d hide them."

> " You're Mr. Dalton, then? Or is 'e Mr. Worthin'ton? no idea what's comin' over me, jabbering like this. Totally gay. I can' believe I jus' said that... Don't suppose y'have anyone here who c'n turn back time? Cos I'd kinda like f'that not to 'ave 'appened..."

Warren laughs. "Actually, we’re both Mr. Worthington. I was born that way, though, so I take no responsibility. In his case, it was intentional." He offers just enough of a grin to make it clear he’s entertained. "Grandmother Worthington had a trust fund set up in 1964 to pay for college educations for the spouses of the Worthington men… she was a great believer in women’s liberation, she was. I doubt she had quite this situation in mind, but I like to think she’d have approved. And, no, we don’t allow Illyana to do time-travel any more… the last time caused enough trouble."

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

" You're Mr. Dalton, then? Or is 'e Mr. Worthin'ton? no idea what's comin' over me, jabbering like this. Totally gay. I can' believe I jus' said that... Don't suppose y'have anyone here who c'n turn back time? Cos I'd kinda like f'that not to 'ave 'appened..."

> I doubt she had quite this situation in mind, but I like to think she’d have approved."

Josh listens, amused, as Warren explains. He hadn't minded adding Warren's name onto his own... it was just another thing to remind him that they were together now. The college grant had just been the clincher - he couldn't expect the Institute to fund all of his higher ed, and with Warren effectively cut off from his family, the two of them needed whatever help they could get. Essentially, Grandma Worthington was paying for all of his undergrad, as well as med school. "Me too - it might just be that picture of her dressed as a flapper, though." Josh grins. The old lady had had guts.

The three of them get into the elevator and it drops towards the subbasement. “The subbasement level is generally off limits to students unless they have a reason to be down here.” The elevator stops in the basement foyer, and Josh steps out. “The subbasement is primarily here to support the X-Men, but we also have the school's laboratories down here."

Josh points to the nearby door. "That's the medical lab. Now that our previous doctor is no longer with us, I pretty much have the run of it. Since the area hospitals aren't exactly equipped to deal with mutant physiology, we try to take care of any medical issues here." He opens the door to let Megan take a look. "The surgery and the imaging suite are through those doors, and on the other side of this hall are the biology and chemistry labs."

"Further down the hall, we have the briefing room, Cerebro, and the Danger Room, and then it dead-ends into the hangar." Josh folds his arms and waits for the questions to begin.

[Megan Drukker]

Megan's response to Warren's explanation is a mute nod, because she's still mortified she let her tongue run away with her like that and doesn't quite trust it not to betray her again. The elevator ride down is one of the most awkward she can recall having taken... and then the crazy shit starts.

... off limits? Why? What do they keep down here, then? Maybe it's nothing; it makes sense for there to be bits that are off limits in a school, right...? Probably not bits which look like the sets from a sci-fi show (and a really expensive one at that - no cardboard cutouts and LEDs and men hiding inside wheely bins here....) but this isn't exactly a normal school, so...

... what?

And... she's off. "What's an X-Man? An' a 'Cerebro'? An' why's the danger room dangerous? Is it, like, one'a those tombs with spikes an' things? An' one'a those boulders what chases y'around? Why've y'got one'a those in a freakin' school? Unless the name's ironic. It's ironic, right? Y'don't use the surgery that much, right? An'... what's in the hangar? What kinda madhouse y'runnin' 'ere?"

... good luck keeping up with that one.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren isn’t entirely sure why Josh is showing the new student the sub-basement… on the other hand, it’s not like the X-Men/Institute relationship is much of a secret, these days. Regardless, now that it’s done, best to back him up smoothly.

"The X-Men are a kind of mutant police force… mostly anti-terrorist stuff, though we’ve been known to stop the occasional mugging on a dull afternoon. Cerebro is… well, it’s a lot of things, but one thing we use it for is to find young mutants who don’t know how to find us. The Danger Room is dangerous because we’d rather keep the danger in one place… otherwise it has a way of spreading. The hangar has planes in it, of course." The rest of it he lets slide, not having entirely followed it.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Josh can sense Warren's slight uncertainty, despite the fact that he plays it off verbally. I usually show the new students down to the lower foyer - within a day, she'll know about it anyway - and she might have lab down here. I can at least answer some questions if I show it to them.

> "The X-Men are a kind of mutant police force… mostly anti-terrorist stuff, though we’ve been known to stop the occasional mugging on a dull afternoon. Cerebro is… well, it’s a lot of things, but one thing we use it for is to find young mutants who don’t know how to find us. The Danger Room is dangerous because we’d rather keep the danger in one place… otherwise it has a way of spreading. The hangar has planes in it, of course."

Josh nods. "We do some work with the government, since they've found that the best way to combat mutant terrorists is with mutants themselves. Of course, only adults with full control over their abilities have the option to work with the X-Men. You could say that it's an open secret around here, but we've fortunately been able to keep the two separate in the public eye."

He points upwards into the ceiling. "The reason I told you to get off the basketball court if you hear an alarm go off is because our private jet launches out of the hangar through it."

In all reality, Megan was taking things rather well. Many of their students couldn't quite believe there were others with powers like them - let alone that there was such a thing as a mutant superhero anti-terrorist team that used the basement as a headquarters.

"Finally, the Danger Room is a training room that can simulate many different environments. Since all of us have such diverse powers, its adaptability is useful."