2013-02-16 Late Night Meetings

It is late in the Xavier Institute, and most of the students have returned to their dormitories to socialize, study, and eventually turn in. The halls are mostly silent, save for those few older students who are allowed to roam the halls at night, along with any new recruits or visitors who have not yet started their classes.

However, one of the older ones walks the hallways often. Kwabena Odame, the Ghanaian mutant, often serves the institute by patrolling the halls during after hours, making sure the students are obeying their rules and not causing a ruckus. It's been quiet so far as he walks the halls, dressed quite simply in a pair of old blue jeans and a gunmetal gray shirt, complete with a slightly lighter X-shaped emblem across the chest and torso. As he walks, his voice hums a quiet tune that would be unfamiliar to most, for it is the melody of a Ghanaian pop song.

Having arrived from Detroit rather late at night, Jocelyn can't exactly obey the rules about not roaming the halls late at night. She needs to find her way to her room, which Scott said was set up for her. So, the tall young redhead turns a corner in the direction she was told the dorms are and spots the man. She's got a brown winter jacket drapped over one arm and is wearing a green t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The flight actually gave her a chance to rest and recover, which has helped that massive headache she had quite a bit. The older student wouldn't normally catch her eye, as she's a bit tired, but the outfit is something she notices for some reason, perhaps because of the t-shirt. Regardless, she doesn't stare. The walk is that of someone who has some authority, like a patrol. She's used to that from her previous life, and she doesn't want to get in trouble.

The sound of footsteps catches Kwabena's attention, and dubiously he turns about, expecting to see Dennis or Victor roaming the halls, trying to find one of the girls they danced with at the Valentines Day Dance days ago. Instead, there is an unfamiliar face in the dimly lit corridor. He cants his head slightly, and begins walking in her direction. When he speaks, it is with a heavily accented voice, suggesting that English is still in many ways his second language, but it is also quiet, wanting to not disturb any sleeping students. "You must be de late arrivahl. Miss... Jocelyn, yes?" There is a softness to his tone, as if to suggest that she not need worry about being 'in trouble'.

"Oh, yes. I'm Jocelyn. I'm afraid I don't know your name?" the girl says, appreciative of the softness that the man speaks with, though there is a hint of surprise in her voice at being referred to by name. "Just arrived. Scott brought me in," she explains, though she realizes immediately afterwards that he must have already known that. "I didn't expect to find anyone else up. I slept a bit on the plane," she explains. "And was just trying to find my rooms. I don't suppose you can help me?" she asks. The woman rubs a little at her eyes as she looks at shift, trying to blink away the images of energy that seep out of everyone she sees now.

"I am Kwabena, Kwabena Odame," he answers. "One of de groundskeepahs here." He leans forward just slightly, lip curling into a half grin as he offers a hand of greeting. "Welcome to de Xaviah Institute." His grin broadens into a fuller smile, and then he drops his hand to the side and turns a bit, as if to walk back the way they were both going. "Dere is a room prepared for you, but if you'd like, we cahn get you some few snacks and perhaps a drink, if you are hungry and need for thirst. I hope you undahstand what I mean." The last phrase, it would seem, is more directed at filtering through his heavy accent.

Jocelyn pulls her hand back, not touching Kwabena's hand. "Pleased to meet you. Sorry, my condition makes touch not a pleasent idea for anyone. When I get it under control, then I'll be glad to shake your hand. I don't mean to be rude," Jocelyn says directly. She'd really rather not shock someone right away with, well, a literal shock. "Something to eat and drink would be good, yes," she says. If the accent is bothering her, she doesn't show it. She did have to deal with a lot of heavy accent and creative language in Detroit, so someone using English as a second language isn't that odd to her. "Groundskeeper? How long have you been here?" she asks.

Certainly, Kwabena noticed that she neglected to shake her hand. An understanding look is given, for they were all mutants, and whether a direct cause of Jocelyn's particular condition, there was likely a very good reason for that. While noticed, he makes no mention of it directly, instead lowering his hand without complaint. "Well, dis is de place to learn how to control it," he answers. "Tink nothing of it."

Taking a turn, Kwabena leads the teenager toward the cafeteria. "I have not been here very long, you see, but dis place?" He gestures around with his eyes and head. "My first sanctuary. I am still trying to undahstand my own condition in full, dough dere ah many tings I have come to learn about myself within dese walls." He casts a look her way then, raising his eyebrows. "Detroit can be a rough town." There is a knowing expression in his voice, as if he was familiar with a rough way of life.

"Can be?" Jocelyn laughs a little. "It's defined as a rough town, really. It's got a lot of stereotypes, and most of them are well-earned," the girl says as she follows. The girl listens to the man speak about his condition, or at least the basics. Well, it was good to see that he too had a mutation. Scott did say people here had them, but until she was here, she couldn't be sure. "So, I don't know what the rules or etiquette are, but if I can ask, what is it that brought you here exactly?" It isn't like people walk around with signs announcing their powers. "You don't have to answer, but as I said, I don't know the rules yet".

"I know," answers Kwabena. "I lived there for some few months."

Soon enough, the cafeteria is found. It is also dimly lit, but there are a collection of snacks, mostly fruits and healthy options, along with some fresh water, juice, coffee, and other such assortments.

"Rules? Well, dere really aren't any rules until you decide to enroll in classes here. For now, make use of anything you need, dough I would avoid the staff offices without an invite." He looks toward Jocelyn next, his tone growing a touch colder. "And de sublevahls are off limits."

That icy tone disperses almost immediately. "You are right dough. Most of us have de X-Gene mutation. Many of us have our challenges, but dere are resources here to help us overcome dem and learn to live a normal life with dem." He motions toward the snacks and beverages and adds, "Help yourself." Then, he looks toward her with a grin and says, "Would you like to see what mine does? It is harmless, if I let it be."

Well, she didn't expect actual rules, but Jocelyn is appreciative of them. "Avoid the sublevels and the offices. Easy enough to do," the girl states. Though now she needs to find out why to avoid the sublevels. Maybe that's where the plane is kept? That plane was pretty awesome, she had to admit. She starts looking around for snacks and ends up grabbing an apple and a Coke. "Sure, I'd like to see what it does. I can't demonstrate mine yet, but I think I can explain it afterwards. Sort of," Jocelyn offers to the man.

With a quiet laugh, Kwabena nods his head. "We all have our talents," he says. Then, there is a momentary pause as he seems to be concentrating on something. -Poof!- Where there was a man, there is now thick clouds of black smoke. Kwabena's pants seem to slacken, but it's worth noting that the strange looking t-shirt seems to have disappeared with him. The tufts of smoke pill and roll about before reforming back into the African man with a sound of air being sucked away. "I can also do liquid, and I can harden my body into a state of mattah dat is strongah dan flesh. But... I haven't quite figured out how to control de liquid state." He reaches to grab a can of coke as well, snapping it open with a crack and a hiss. "Good choice!"

Well. That was unexpected. Jocelyn bites her tongue lightly as she concentrates as the energy that was relatively static around Kwabena becomes much more wild with him becoming smoke. It's just the nature of smoke, as it's more spread out. "That's rather impressive," the girl says after a minute, taking a drink of the Coke after she cracks it open herself. "And thanks," she adds regarding the Coke. "Mine is different than that. I see energy. Like Scott's eyes, I can see that, or electricity, or other forms I'm sure I'm not familiar with". Just wait until she sees magic in use. "I can also absorb it, pull it into me. It can make me faster, stronger, and tougher. I can also shoot it out. Well, I can with practice. I haven't figured it all out yet," she admits. But that's what she's done so far. She just isn't fully reliable yet.

"Thanks," Kwabena offers, bowing his head briefly in a bit of show, before taking a drink of his own Coke. Then he pays attention with a listening set of mis-matched eyes and a slight turn of his head, nodding a couple of times. "Learning to mastah dose abilities is tough. It may take a very long time. Mine used to be completely instinctive, and I still have to harness some unpleasahnt emotions to control dem. But Jocelyn, dat is all paht of de journey." He reaches up to pat at his shirt. "Dis here? Is special. It is woven with unstable molecules, which sounds dangahrous, but de shirt will actually shift with me." A humored smile comes to his face as he explains, "Helps to avoid unfortunate wardrobe accidents." Yep, everyone has had their challenges, and while Kwabena is withholding the darker side of his own past intentionally, that particular challenge -had- made for one or two hundred embarrassing moments.

Holding back some dark aspects of the past isn't that abnormal. The girl takes another drink of the coke and looks at the shirt. "Well, that's useful, though I have to ask how it was made? I didn't know science had advanced that far yet. Isn't that kind of the Science Fiction type of thing?" Jocelyn asks. Weaving with unstable molecules? That sounded impossible to her. "Though maybe I need to relearn what is possible, given my new situation," she adds before taking a bite of her apple.

"Science Fiction," answers Kwabena with a grin that spreads beyond his face and into his eyes. "Yes. Well, remember, we now have peopah with mutated brains too. Dey can invent some amazing tings! Dough I will say, it always bothers me, knowing dere are always unstable molecules a hair away from my skin." He shakes his head, and then turns. "Well, allow me to show you to your room. You will have your own private place until you enroll in school, at which point you will have a roommate." He turns and begins to lead the way.

Jocelyn nods and starts following. "Well, I didn't have time to enroll properly until today. I imagine I'll be assigned a roommate then soon. And thank you for showing me around a little bit," she adds to Kwabena. It was good to see people, at least so far, were fairly friendly here.