Run, X-Men! It's the Brat!
Short, pudgey fingers pressed the temples in front of her hairline, and both big blue eyes closed in bafflement. This was ridiculous, by any standard the 8-year-old child could set. The young girl massaged her head, totally perplexed by what was going on. "Let me see if I understand correctly the plan, Mother," her voice was condecending and calm, as usual. "You took me in the car to go to the park. We had quite the lovely time there, but I seem to have misunderstood you. Because I was under the strangest impression that we would now go to my home. Not-" her voice raised an octave, "A concentration camp for freaks!" With these last words her eyes flew open and the young body thrashed around in her carseat, head twisting back and forth.
Robert and Kristen ignored the girl, used to these fits.
"I demand to see a lawyer! I must be emancipated from you two disgusting creatures at once! Unfit to be parents, that is what the courts will say! Handing me off to some asylum for those endowed with abilities superior to your own. Twisted, rotten people! A pox and a plague on your--your---on you!" Faith was now pounding both tiny fists on her carseat.
Robert picked up the phone and dialed someone. He placed a finger to his lips and gave Faith a look that said 'I mean it.'
"I declare! When the newspapers hear about this, they shall truly have their moment with your reputations. I shall be kind; never would I reveal your truly wicked sides. I would only tell them, with tears in my eyes, of how you threw me away, tossed me to this so-called institute with nary more than a sigh of relief. Sick, deranged...awful! My poor young mind will be ravaged by these terrible events! I shall be scarred, deep in my brain, the deepest cuts not even time can heal!" Faith almost moved herself to tears. Her young face was crunched up in the red rasin of a full-blown tantrum.
In the front seat, Kristen pointed to the left. Roger nodded and hung up the phone.
There was a sudden silence from the backseat. They pulled into a driveway, and Faith's blue eyes opened wide to drink in what they saw. Where was this place? Had she died and gone to heaven? This was no school! It was a mansion! A mansion to expel all mansions to the furthest nether-regions of the mansion-land ghettos! The king of all castles! Where she was meant to live!
"Let me out. Let me out! I must see this vision, this dream! Oh, the gods of architechure would collapse in depression and failure of being upon sighting this eighth wonder of the globe!" The little girl kicked at her chair and squirmed. Rodger got out of the passenger side and unbuckled his daughter. She lept from the Suburban, mouth open in an 'o' of ectasy. For a moment, she was very quiet.
"My God..." She mumbled to her parents, "It was Twain who said, 'Almost any man worthy of his salt would fight to defend his home, but no one ever heard of a man going to war for his boarding house.'" She chuckled. "'Twas a shame Mark never saw this place." And with that she took a few dazed steps toward the mansion, parents following behind, giving one another satisfied grins.
Faith reached the front door and allowed her parents to knock for her, turning her pompus attention to the landscape. Yes, she felt right at home here. Turning her attention back to the door, the 8 year old awaited an answer.
(OOC: Warning. I’ll most certainly be rather slow-going my inspiration’s been low lately and I’ve got a ton to reply to, but I’ll try to get a reply done two or three days after yours latest. Hope that’s alright?)
Once he was out of the student kitchen, it was as if a burden was taken from his shoulders. None of the fated and decisive kind, no, but rather one where you seemed to almost physically feel just how misplaced you were. They both seemed to be nice people, but with the kind of chemistry going on between them, there was no way a third person could be in the same room and not be ignored by the potential couple. Matthias didn’t consider them to have done that on purpose; yet ultimately, it doesn’t really matter whether or not something is done with any sort of intention. The result stays the same.
Like everything positive though, having an excuse to back out courteously came with a price. Namely another new arrival. Faith Rodgers. What kind of person would he have to expect? Parents calling their child ‘faith’ surely were quite religious, weren’t they, so would their offspring be all bible-bashing and frustrated prudence? Or the opposite, rebelling as was often the case with children raised in a particularly strict way? The contrasting mutant knew that in most cases everything you expected of a person on no basis but the name they had been given could only turn out to be completely wrong. Then again, there was a difference between knowing something and truly believing in its truth. And Matt had never been a rational person.
Thus preparing to either meet Margaret Thatcher Junior or a reincarnation of the nowadays rather un-rebelled Avril Lavigne’s punk spirit, the light-elemental quickly made sure he was looking at least remotely presentable (hair pulled back into a ponytail – check, shirt not undecided whether to be tugged in or hang over the trousers – check, friendly welcoming smile – check) and opened the door, hoping this Faith hadn’t been kept waiting for too long.
It is part of the very essence of human nature to perceive the world through the filter of one’s own expectations. There have been theories that if you saw an elephant flying, you wouldn’t actually register it as being there, simply because it’s a thing so extraordinary to occur that your mind will at no point be prepared to be confronted with it. In the case of Faith Rodgers, however, it was probably rather her height that let Matt be completely oblivious to her presence. “Hello, welcome to Xavier’s Institute for the Gifted.” Those introductory words, mainly aimed at Kristen, weren’t exactly set in stone, but it was advised to keep to something similar to that line. There were quite a lot of students referring to the place as “mutant high”, but that wasn’t really something for official receptions, now was it?
The smile on the black-haired 20-year-old’s face was genuine, though slightly confused as his eyes met Robert’s and Kristen’s. People usually didn’t enrol somewhere in their thirties (or were those two in their forties?), even if it was an institution as… special, we might say, as Xavier’s. Then again, there were a few cases he had heard of where people’s powers had emerged quite late in their lives, or they had constantly evolved only to reach a point where they could not be hidden anymore at a later time than usual. For a moment, Matt wondered whether the male, most likely husband or possibly brother, was considering escorting her here as some sort of coup de grâce after which he could go on with his life pretending she had ceased existing, or whether he actually cared for her. Even for someone with a nature as ironic as his, this thought was quite cynical. Maybe too too cynical.
“I could lead you around a bit if you like. Anything in particular you’d be interested in?” The head tilted slightly to the side, Matt’s eyes remained fixed on Faith’s mother, before he realised just how close he was to being rude. “Sorry, would you like to come with or…” The question was directed at Robert, discreetly taking into account that they possibly wanted to say good-bye on the doorstep rather than at a later point. Chances were that they had had the standard tour before anyway, before ‘Faith’ decided to stay here, and so this second one was likely to be more specific for someone who’d live at the place, and thus of less interest for a relatively unaffected visitor.
"Great, so much for my back-up plan of escaping to a remote island if things get hairy."
Re: Run, X-Men! It's the Brat!
The first reaction out of the two parents was relief. Here they were, about to hand their daughter away to the arms of a strange school they'd heard nothing about until last week, about to betray their gem of a child to the mass of mutants in Xavier's school; here they were petrified of both losing her and keeping her, afraid of what Faith's fate held; all of this fear and anxiety pressed into one moment as the door opened. And there stood before the couple a perfectly normal, rational, and polite boy. Relief and gratitude were visible on both Robert and Kristen's faces.
All sounded perfectly normal; he addressed them with a courteous tone, and asked if they would like a guided tour around the school. Robert nodded vigorously. "Oh yes," he replied, "That's why we came along. To see where our baby is going." Kristen turned down and smiled at her daughter.
But a foot below Matt's gaze, Faith seethed. Her pudgey little hands balled into fists and her pretty blue eyes narrowed in rage. How could this ninny have missed her? She was standing right there. So close she could have punched him in the jaw (if it was within reach). It took all the control a young child can muster to bite back the raw lashing of words that spun about in her brain. Faith took slow breaths and calmed herself, lacing both hands together behind her back and looking her cutest. First appearences were important.
The child did a mental check. Her hair was in neat ringlets, topped with a bow. And while she hadn't worn any stockings today, she hoped it would go unnoticed since she was wearing plain black mary-janes to go along with her knee-length frilly blue dress. She did a quick inventory of her skin, checking for blemishes or dirt, and when her eyes came away satisfied, she returned her mother's stare.
Clearing her throat loudly, the child turned her blue eyes to Matt. "Yes, I should think it rather appropriate that those who gave birth should be fully informed of the splendor that they shall be leaving me in." She sniffed, tilting her head upwards in a prestegious manner. "Perhaps you should now find it in the reeking depths of your heart to bestow a tour upon me? I am certain to be bothersome to nary a soul," she paused, then added with a harsh glare, "My years often leave me overlooked."
((OOC: That's perfect; I'll be leaving town and coming back on Tuesday, so take your time. ^.^))
Edited by: TrecherousPrude at: 7/15/05 7:53 am
Re: Run, X-Men! It's the Brat!
Okay then, a tour it was. Matt had half hoped they’d content themselves with whatever previous information they had received, but- “…our baby…” It took a few moments before the contrasting mutant actually realised what who he had thought was the new arrival had just said. And there she was, all cute smiles and goldilocks; complete with a little dress and large blue eyes. For a moment, the raven-haired young man unreasonably expected a crowd to randomly sigh their “ooh” of adoration, while his own thoughts were quite different.
*Oh bollocks!* He could feel his smile waver a little and hoped it had went by unnoticed as he focused on keeping up the façade. If there was one thing he just couldn’t deal with, it was children. They thought they were so cute, and everybody was falling for their chubby cheeks and mindless babble, but Matt knew the truth. They were evil. And the fact that this one’s babbling was not exactly incoherent didn’t help either. *A premature brat, perfect. Fate, you bitch!* Inwardly shaking his fists at the powers that be, who had generously decided to let him leap from the pot into the frying pan, Contrast did his best to actually understand what the little girl had just uttered. Reeking depths. Hey… was that an insult?! His inner dictionary cheerfully informed him, that she had just literally called his heart a stinking death pit. What “nary” meant he could only guess though. Now this would be fun.
Pushing his sarcastic thoughts as far away as he possibly could, Matt’s gaze purposefully met Faith’s, shortly wondering what kind of powers the kid possessed. An eight-year-old telepath wasn’t exactly something he wanted to have around, but then again, it wasn’t as if he had any say in this. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” He smiled apologetically, his face muscles beginning to ache from keeping up that expression. “I’m quite sure people find it hard not to notice you once you’ve attracted their attention though.” His words were ambiguous; the criticism not bluntly obvious as he didn’t want to insult her parents. They probably were blind to their child’s annoying nature, patiently asking her what was wrong while everybody around them went insane during hours and hours of pointless fits. Matthias didn’t have to know her to be completely convinced that she was a spoiled brat. But then again, almost every child was in his eyes.
“Please, come inside.” Making an inviting gesture, he realised that Faith’s apparent intelligence could possibly turn out to be of advantage. After all, it saved him from being forced to baby-talk, something he found even more degrading than McDonald’s uniforms. Speaking of uniforms, was there an age-limit for being placed on a team? Matt thought to remember that Storm was supposed to be quite the child person… what if she decided to make the brat part of their team? *Oh c’mon!* Yes, that was just stupid, wasn’t it? That girl seemed to be not even ten years old, nobody in his right mind would expose her to any danger. Then again, the idea of Madison and Anna being confronted with such a new team member was just hilarious – a win-win situation.
There were only few students around in the hallways that time of the day, most either in class or spending their time in a more entertaining way than randomly strolling around in the Institute. A little more people would have been quite nice though, for Matt anyway, as it would have given him the chance to at least roll his eyes at one or the other and vent his frustration. Stupid idea to volunteer for that job, really. “The front hall is connected to most main points of interest in the mansion…” And the tour began.
(OOC: An actual tour, i.e. played out, may be a bit boring. As I said, you could join the Wed Lunch thread if you wanted to…? Your choice really ^^)
"Great, so much for my back-up plan of escaping to a remote island if things get hairy."
Re: Run, X-Men! It's the Brat!((OOC: You're right, tours are dull. I'll wrap up this thread, then. ^.^ Appologies for the late post, BTW, I've been MIA on vacation for the past week.))
With a cocky disinterest the young girl followed her elder, occasionally interrupting to snap several remarks which were as pretentious as they were wordy and difficult to decipher. And though they tried to condone the behavior with words of their own, Faith's parents did little to dampen the girl's hot mouth. Half the time they couldn't understand what she was saying, anyway. So, as was always the case when the family met someone new, Robert and Kristen fell into the background and remained only as shadows to agree or disagree with their daughter's language.
But though they spoke little, the couple was impressed with the academy. They muttered to one-another approvingly and smiled at Matt often, giving him helpless looks when their daughter mouthed off. The snappy remarks increased in frequency as the tour progressed, and Faith seemed to be dissatisfied. Her plump pink lips pursed into a frown of distain, and her foot began to tap with impatience as Matt paused to give details about odds and ends. Finally, midway through the tour, she blurted out what was bothering her. "Oh, for the supercillious and light of soul, this palace must be nearly too many eons past heaven! I see this, how the golden walls and silver floors could flare amazement in the senses and awe into the shallowest of human feelings. But tell me, guide, does this frill and frock have a deeper meaning? Is there thought beneath the guilded stare of these walls? Does the mind move inside the riches? Or is it a face, so pretty and sweet and decayed within?" She became huffy and stamped her foot, both arms crossing in frusteration. "Oh cruel and meaningless souls, which and where do you see and go for the gain of insight and perception into the pitiful existence of humanity and yes, even life itself?!" Both chubby child's arms flew upwards as thought praying to God Himself for help in the matter.
After several minutes of confusion, it was decided that Faith must be wondering if there was a library. And so the grumpy girl was led to what she requested, though not without a sense of loathing hovering over the group. When they got there, though, Faith forgot all about her dislike of the mansion. Her little mouth dropped open in a cartoonish manner, and her blue eyes burst wide. Both eyebrows arched and hands trembling, she inched into the room, in a state of severe shock. It was easily the largest collection of books she'd ever seen. A small whimper escaped her lips, which promptly curled into a smile. She pivoted back to Matt and her parents, grinning. "No words could suffice..." she managed to sigh, exhiliration evident.
They spent a small amount of time in the library, then continued with the tour, Faith now very cooperative. She listened intently to everything Matt said, only interrupting to ask polite questions. Her parents now had their chance to speak, and in the conversation informed Matt of Faith's unusual control over language, and her strange ability to silence anyone.
The tour concluded and Kristen thanked Matt warmly, Robert bending over to ask his daughter what she thought. The girl's response was enthusiastic, and it was decided that Faith would stay in the institute even as her parents were working out the legal issues with Xavier. Thus, the couple gave kisses and love to their daughter, promising to visit often. Maybe it was just the light, or a stray piece of dust, but one could almost have thought they'd seen tears in the little girl's eyes as her parents drove off. But whether it was real or imagined, the sad look quickly vanished and gave way to excitement. She remained with her back turned to Matt, but spoke.
"'The unthankful heart discovers no mercies, but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.'" She tilted her head and turned around, childish face housing eyes much older, young lips smiling with emotion that belonging to an adult. "That is what Henry Ward Beecher spoke of, anyway. And, if he's right, I stand before my hourly angel and momentary heavenly blessing now. Your help was recieved by myself with much gratitude." She nodded her head and posed both hands at her sides, and with that thanks for the tour she strutted away towards the library, tiny black shoes making tiny clip clop noises as she went.
((OOC: POOP ON A STICK! Posted under the wrong sn. This is Prude from a different world. : / ))
Edited by: BastKitten at: 8/2/05 7:05 am
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