Moisture hang in the stale air, the stink of the sewers familiar and strangely comforting to the young man who found himself wandering the entwining tunnels beneath the live city. To most, the tunnels would be a hell, confining and shameful, a sign of the disgrace, a barren land where only the lost would linger. However it was not so for this young man, his features as alien to his human brethren like many of his fellow Morlocks, and yet few were as confined as he, isolated even by their standards. Lorne was, as one could undoubtedly construe, a mutant. A strange fish-like hybrid, cursed with a more amphibious physique and in turn rendering the presumed orphan a captive to the watery cage he has spent most of his life within. Oxygen was not as life-giving to him as it was to others, the scaled mutant was a water breather, more adept within the depths of the sea then anywhere else.

Only in recent times had Lorne really been permitted to leave on his own, and today was one of the precious few days he could explore the nearby tunnels. Too long outside of his watery confine and he’d suffocate, meaning that there was little chance to really quench the thirst Lorne had in learning about the world outside his home made aquarium. There was no rush, as eager as the young mutant was, he would cherish every moment he had outside, every nick and cranny would be carefully examined, every wall touched, every item scanned… He would attach importance to every glimpse of his freedom, there was no need to run through the area, after all, it was all he had for the rest of his life to explore a dismal ten minute radius of their community, why rush to see it all at once? Moving around in the main area was a little difficult for him admittedly, so much was happening and all at once so it just blurred his senses terribly, overwhelming the highly in-tuned mind.

"Well, I’d say it’s about time to return to the comforts of home." The surprisingly English accent broke the silence as Lorne’s bare feet moved securely across the grimy floor of the sewers, even the amphibian not finding the murky waterways too appealing to get too close to if they could be avoided. The water in his carefully built cell was kept as clean as possible, not that he minded if it was salt water or fresh water, it depended on the time of year, usually it was fresh from the pipes but when there was any issues with the water connection they’d make the effort to go to the sea and collect water specifically for him. It was amazing really, barely able to give any help and yet they would go out of the way to try and tend to his rather unique needs.

Palms were held out like tiny radars, scanning every vibe that echoed in the area, the not so distant subways just a few blocks away and the gushing waters in many of the tunnels, scattering of rodents and the entire community he called home – everything and anything – all leaving their residual markings for Lorne to pick up. And there it was – movement! Not like the usual scurrying of a rat, or nest of mice, no stray cat finding a fresh feast of rodents, and definitely something that was not at its best of state. Outstretched palms continued to graze the air in front of the amphibian, his hyper sensitive sensory sketching out a detailed print of whatever was nearby, visually hindered by distance and gloom.

"I wonder…" Lorne pondered curiously, peering back the way he had come and then deciding that despite his time restrictions he had more then enough to see what it was, or more correctly ‘who’. Everyone had told Lorne of the way humans could act to them, especially those who looked so inhuman, perhaps that is why Lorne hesitated, a moment wondering if this person was mutant or not. But that fleeting instant passed, it didn’t matter, every second more info was assessed, more urgency realized. The once abandoned mutant made his way towards the figure without any more thought, bare feet silent and swift.

The scent of blood was unfamiliar to Lorne, most scents were to be honest, other then the air itself Lorne had little contact with scents outside his private aquarium. They were all still new, all waiting to be discovered, even touching something was a rare treat, as smart as Lorne was he was also clueless on even the simplest of things… how smooth was polished wood, what did it smell like when it was in its natural state, what did a rose smell like, what did a collection of flowers smell like… what did proper food taste like? The Morlocks had a limited lifestyle but to Lorne they had so much more then he felt he could ever have, they got to o topside, they got to hold each other, talk face to face instead of having a barrier between them. And most of all, they got to read at their pleasure, without having to wait for a passer by to turn the page…

The body was moving, well…crawling at a weakened pace at best, Lorne allowed his tender hands to rest timidly on the beaten and bloody male. Whoever this was, he was hurt terribly, human or not, they had to help this strangely dressed gentlemen. A flooding sensation of imagery and details, distant voices, blurred memories, cramming fiercely into the mind of the young mutant as soon as his palms touched the poor individual. Nothing made any sense at first, as usual it was all blurred, the human mind and its experiences were far more and in deeper details then any inanimate object he usually came across, especially down here.

“Please” The urge to pull away and break contact was controlled as Lorne forced himself to take the blow and keep the assurence of his touch on the heavily injured man, “Dr McCoy. Xavier institute… .” The words brought images with them, a strong wave of pictures, a large presence, ominous and yet important, a building, beautiful, huge, voices echoed in the depths of Lorne’s impressive mind. A creature, a frightening looking one, however one that brought no sense of fear, what sort of creature was it? A Mutant? The image was so hard to grasp, so weak and so strong at the same time, flashing through Lorne’s mind, different pictures, voices, different voices, soft, distant, numerous. “.. help me I’m blind……..” More images, strange ones, stronger ones, memories, flying, rain –faces. Only in the rain, picture perfect, distant thoughts echoed with the images, Lorne had never been in the rain before, but there was a sense of need, a hunger, let it rain, when it rains the world can be seen, people, places, it all becomes clear.

"Mutancy. The key that unlocks the bars of impossibility." Whispered the teen as he struggled for control with the overload of information. Wearing only his swimming shorts, a nice black pair that had been bought for him on his 18th birthday, it really made it hard for him to even attempt to hide his deformities from sight when around this person, but if the images had anything to say, it at least hinted well enough that this man was a mutant. Very carefully, using the information his mind had scanned, Lorne tenderly turned the man over onto his back, lifting the man gently to rest against the younger mutants thighs for support. Lorne kept his fists clenched to stop any further contact with his palms.

"As blind as you are my friend… you’ve seen far more then I." Added the teen with an air of wistfulness, taking out a small device, one of about six the Morlocks owned thanks to the superheroes who offered what little they could for the rather large community. Activating the beckon, Lorne dared not move the figure, waiting for the nearby patrol to follow his signal, they insisted Lorne carry the device since if he got stuck somewhere it could be fatal should no one find him in the short timeframe the amphibian had to survive outside of his watery domain. Removing his hands a moment later, shutting off the link that had formed and finally giving his mind a rest from the uploading of pictures, random as they were, some completely pointless, most unable to be distinguished. It had been rather hard for Lorne to adjust to the new abilities, contact was minimal from his isolation alone, now he feels guilt over any touch he makes, after all, who would want someone to see the deeper thoughts held secretly in the corners of their minds? Most children didn’t mind, too innocent to care and too young to understand what exactly he could see. But it still made contact for him harder, even by his standards.

"I have summoned help," Assured Lorne, despite the mans condition, talking seemed like the only help Lorne could offer at this point, whether the other man was awake to hear the words or not. "I will inform them of your message, we will send word to your doctor McCoy." They had to… they would wouldn’t they? Of course they would, Lorne knew of the Institute, he also knew one of the ex-Morlock leaders was a member of the faculty, that’s really the reason he knew of it, her code name was Storm, she seemed like a powerful leader, Lorne found himself now wondering why she left the Morlocks.

"My name is Lorne." An outsider, a real outsider, and Lorne couldn’t even talk with him. In the minutes it took for the team to hush into view, Lorne noticed the emblem on his companions front. DareDevil! Shamilar collected ample loads of newspapers from all sorts of sources and the two of them would often talk about things regarding crime fighters, especially those involved with Spiderman as he was Shalimar’s hero since he rescued her from her own people. When the Morlock’s found them, Lorne started feeling lightheaded and dehydrated, he didn’t need to tell his extended family he was starting to feel ill, they knew Lorne’s limitations.

Both individuals had been ushered back to the main area, a clean area set up close to Lorne’s tank so that the amphibious mutant could remain involved with the man he had found, word was sent out to McCoy via a young messenger who sprinted to the school gates in order to call for their help. It wasn’t more then thirty minutes, but it felt like hours as Lorne watched helplessly from his confines, he couldn’t express his restlessness in words OR actions, the tank too small and his anxieties too strong to put into sentences. The Morlock nurses tended carefully to their guest, a mutant whose tears held minor healing abilities, another one skillfully trained in bandaging and a third whose breath got rid of any harmful bacteria which could settle into the wounds – considering the sanitary conditions of the area it was a common thing for even small wounds to get infected if not treated properly. It must have been strange for someone unfamiliar with the group to have a nurse gently blowing her breath across their skin, but it was also a little uncomfortable for the Morlocks who didn’t want to invade DareDevil’s privacy by removing his mask.

"He’ll be fine, you found him in time." Insisted the woman who was examining the damage done carefully to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, soon the X-men would be here, they’d have far better ways of caring for the wounded but that didn’t mean the Morlocks would treat DareDevil’s injuries lightly. Assuring that the man was alright seemed to be the only way to keep Lorne from leaving his tank again, the young man obviously wanted to be more involved.

"I fear that isn’t entirely true." Admitted the restrained young man in an unusual show of regret, it was doubtful Lorne could have fought whatever it was that DD had been injured by, but surely two had more chance of winning then one.

"I think he’ll feel you showed up just in time." The almost normal looking woman commented in reply, easing Lorne’s mood a little yet not enough to settle him just yet. The woman talking was entirely bald, a collection of spots running down from beneath her ears and along the side of her body right to her ankles. Beautiful as she was, she was still seen as a freak, spending her young wearing wigs and covering her delicate brown spots with make-up. She lived here not because it was impossible to survive on the topside, but simply because here she didn’t have to hide, and the people here needed someone of her nursing talents. What money she had was spent on medical supplies to keep the community as healthy as possible, she was devoted, and sometimes the sheer devotion from Amilia was enough to uplift her sickly patients.

"So many books say that Justice is blind, but to be honest Amilia, as noble a notion as that is, I fear it’s not entirely true." The scaled teen drifted against the glass, his webbed hands pressed up close to the window, his mind as always full of thoughts and contemplations, lost in his own theories and curious notions. The fair tanned skinned nurse paid a little more attention to Lorne’s comments then the other two more intent on what they were doing, one focusing on their other patients while the third continued to sterilize their guests wounds in a repetitive routine to stop any risk of contamination.

"Things aren’t always as easy as one dreams them to be Lorne," The brown eyed female replied softly, Lorne’s own gaze watching the crimefighter recovering in their midst.

I wonder... The amphibious mutant began to think, what did they think when they first tackled the inspiration of being a superhero? Something that, had he met their guest in another circumstance, Lorne would unbashfully ask the crimefighter. Did that too seem to be a simplistic dream? What makes them fight? What helps them deal with the complexities it must surely bring to their lives? Knowing so little factual information on the common man’s daily habits aside from what he read in any wayward book they found or obtained, it meant that Lorne knew enough to know that most people have a home, a family, work and that’s their lives. Most heroes were said to not have anything but their work, the crime fighting passion which consumes their lives, be it willingly or not.

But they always have a choice, they can remove their suits, unmask their features, they can walk away. Sure there were a few who couldn’t, like Thing from the Fantastic Four, so deformed was he that there was no walking away from his role, he could not hide, no matter what, but the rest of his team could… I have no choice, this is it, I can’t walk away from here and expect to survive. The sea was a possibility, but he feared its unknown, he feared the creatures there, the separation from the only family he knew, he feared getting lost, freedom was one thing, but if there was a chance he’d never see these people again, then perhaps freedom was too high a price to wish for.

Everyone basically said Lorne couldn’t leave his tank for long, and when people keep telling you that you can't do something, you kind of like to try it anyway. Everyone wanted their space, they all wanted their freedom and sense of choice in things, why should Lorne be any different? At least he handled himself in a more upbeat manner then some of the other angrier teens who felt too confined with their restrictions and lifestyle. Most ran away to live on the streets and find their own way of living, at least for a little while, if they didn’t manage to make it they’d return home, but all the youngsters had dreams of being something more then what they currently were. Like most headstrong adolescents, few felt they ought to be forced to hide.

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Ann, wasn’t sure if you wanted Beast to come down here and logically Lorne couldn’t drag DD to the school before suffocating, so I figured Porter and his sister could retrieve Matt, with or without Beast. I left it open for you to decide to bring in Beast, wake up Matt, whatever you wanted, didn’t want to presume anything!