2013-02-18 Meeting in the Atrium

It's relatively early, though Jocelyn has been up for a few hours already. She had just recently come to the manor, and was getting the hang of her powers slowly and surely. At the very least she wasn't walking around with a constant splitting headache, which really did improve her mood drastically. There was just something about a headache caused by suddenly seeing every bit of energy spectrum that put a girl in a foul mood. Regardless, she's had breakfast and is still tied up a little in the paperwork for getting set up at the school in terms of classes, so she's a little more free than she expects to be in a day or so. She's dressed casually in a blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She's made her way down to the atrium and has found herself a little bit of wall to sit down against. Since she wasn't doing much more than thinking, she'd taken it upon herself to lightly practice her energy control. She'd set up a few marbles and a ruler and was busy using kinetic energy to try and move them very specific distances. A few of the marbles had shot across the room, though none had done any damage yet.

While those errant marbles haven't done any damage, they're still lying about the floor. Her high-top tennies muffle her footsteps as Jubilee descends the stairs, humming some new pop song from the radio under her breath. She's just put a foot on the marble floor when another misfired marble zips past, setting the voluminous leg of her rave-style jeans fluttering as it brushes them. She quickly pulls her foot back, blinking and looking in the wake of the mini-missile. "Somebody put in a really tiny freeway?"

"Sorry," Jocelyn says as the marble nearly clips Jubilee. "Just doing a little bit of morning practice. Didn't mean to cause a near accident". She concentrates and gives little pushes to the marbles, bringing them all back to her general vicinity, where she starts gathering them up. "Just got here a couple days ago. I'm Jocelyn". She doesn't hold out a hand, but does stand up once the marbles are back in the bag. No cool codename for her yet, as she doesn't actually know she should have one. She's just heard first names so far.

Jubilee, glancing up, giggles as the redhead apologizes. "S'okay, totally. You missed, and it didn't do anything bad," she replies, hopping down from the stairs and moving to join the... /very/ tall girl. "You're gonna be one of those people I just have to look up to, aren't you?" she suggests teasingly, offering a hand. "I'm Jubilee. Or Jubes, or Jubie, or Ju-Ju... something like that. Majorly cool to meet ya, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn doesn't take the hand, but smiles easily. "Good to meet you, Jubilee. Forgive me for not taking your hand, but part of my power that I haven't figured out is that I kind of cause people shocks if I touch them, so unless you'd like a serious morning wake-up call, I'll pass". She holds her hands up apologetically. This not being able to shake hands thing is actually rather annoying. "Hey, as long as you avoid too many 'Why weren't you a basketball player in school?' jokes, it's all good," she adds. "You been here long?" she asks the girl. "I'm still bumbling my way around a fair bit, and everyone seems real busy these last few days".

"Oh!" Jubilee's eyes widen in mock-terror and she hops backwards, coming down with a graceless thump that sets her jeans fluttering again. "Okay, note to self: No touchy the Joce!" That smile is pure friendly teasing, despite her tendency to look naturally impish. "Me? Close to a year, I think. I have a little trouble remembering dates. But if you need a tour or anything, come find me! I'll be glad to help." And the smile turns self-deprecating as Jubilee tilts her head. "When I first got here, I got turned around and went through the garage three times. I'd rather spare anybody else /that/ experience!"

Jocelyn laughs. "Right. Look but don't touch," the girl responds with an easy nod. "Yeah, I don't think I need to see the garage three times, though if that's where the plane is kept, then hey, that was a pretty wicked plane Scott picked me up in". She had to admit to being rather impressed by it. Coming from Detroit, it takes a nice ride to impress her. "Ah, so you must have your powers down pretty well then. So, if I can ask, since everyone here has some ability, what is it you're able to do?" That's always awkward, but she'd rather know earlier rather than later what people can do. After all, if they get into a scrape, that's good to know! "A tour would be good, if you don't mind showing me around".

"Sorry. That's a /secret/," Jubilee whispers exaggeratedly, leaning close and winking. "But I don't doubt Scott'll show you pretty soon." She rubs her chin at that question, frowning thoughtfully. "It's kind of embarrassing, compared to moving stuff around. It isn't that useful," the Asian teen admits. "But it's mine." She takes a few steps back. "Here I go..." And she raises her hands, opening her fingers. Swirls of multicolored, glowing plasmoids flare out from her skin, orbiting her hands and swooping dizzyingly between her outspread fingers. She goes into a long, graceful pirouette, holding her hands out by her sides to let the colors form rainbow arcs around her.

Yep, such a secret in this place. Jocelyn takes a few steps black and instinctively shields her eyes when the plasmoids show up. Not that it does a whit of good since she can see energy, and they're basically giant balls of pure energy. "Oh wow, those are /bright/!" the girl exclaims. "What can you do with them?" Jocelyn asks Jubilee. "Though mine isn't strictly pushing things around". She rubs her head a bit. "If you keep one of them up for a bit, I can show you more easily than explain it". She's really curious about a few things regarding Jubilee's energy balls, and figures there isn't any harm in asking.

"Oh, sorry! I'll wrap up and save you one!" Jubilee gives one last spin, leaping straight up and landing flat-footed, her arms raised showily above her head as the plasmoids vanish... except for a big blue one. She smiles triumphantly! Perfect! And then her baggy jeans slip and slide to the floor, puddling around her high-tops. Jubilee's cheeks pinken noticeably, but she holds out the plasmoid to the redhead, standing in her powder-blue undies. "Totally meant to do that!"

"Here, let me take that off your hands and free you up to take care of that," Jocelyn says, managing to avoid laughing at the girl's wardrobe malfunction. She knew some people who liked the baggy jean look, but it just wasn't her thing. She reaches an arm out and concentrates. The big blue plasmoid is then sucked into Jocelyn, disappearing from sight as it literally enters the girl. "Whoa. Haven't tried anything like that before. What is this called? Feels kind of magnetic?" The girl holds a hand up and summons up just a little bit of that energy she just basically ate, and a small, multi-colored plasmoid beam shoots up about eight inches before fizzling away.

"Take care of what? It's not like I didn't know these panties were too pretty to cover up," Jubilee ripostes, giggling. She strikes a playful pose... which is ruined when Jocelyn does her energy vacuum-cleaner thing. "Whoa.. where'd it go?" she asks, staring at the spot where it was. And then the redhead lifts her hand. Blue energy flares out in a short beam! Jubilee is so startled that she takes an involuntary step back, tripping and falling on her behind. "Yow!" She blinks. "Did you just /absorb/ my firework and turn it into something else?"

"Sorry! Didn't mean to startle you Jubilee," Jocelyn says. "And sort of. I can absorb energy, and I can see energy moving around us. Kinetic, thermal, whatever. Then I can shoot the same type of energy back out. So it's the same type of energy as you use for your fireworks, but in more of a beam form. I can do blasts to, but this seemed safer. I can also increase my physical abilities when I absorb energy," she explains. Which was why the plasmoid was even brighter to her than it normally was to most people. "I'm still working on control and not taking too much. If I do, I have a bad tendency to cause small explosions if I'm not careful. Best case scenario is I pass out instead from what is basically an overdose".

"S'okay... wow, that's pretty impressive," Jubilee replies, sitting up and shaking her head. "Aside from the OD thing, I mean. That'd really suck!" She draws up her feet and rolls into a standing position, drawing her jeans up with her and holding them up. "So that's how you were moving the marbles? Absorbing movement energy and directing it into them? Can you do that to pretty much anything you want?"

"Sort of. I was absorbing kinetic energy, which is all over the place, and shooting the marbles with it. You just can't really see kinetic energy itself, unlike the fireworks, you know?" Jocelyn replies. "Figured that I should start with controlling small amounts in a specific manner to work on it. But the one that almost hit you, well, that one I used a touch too much force". Which happens sometimes, what with her relative untrained skills. "The biggest thing has been my sight though. Had a few days of near constant pain as I adjusted to seeing energy. I think I'm mostly used to it now". Which is code for not being overwhelmed by anything lately, but that's close enough. "Those are a lot of nice moves there," she adds. "Gymnast or dancer?" she asks.

"Better be careful, Joce. If you can't see it, it'd be really easy to overdose on," Jubes says, concern coming into her voice. She begins refastening her jeans. "But not bad aim with those marbles! Think you could do the same with a cannonball? Bet that'd teach some mutant-hater a lesson!" She winces in sympathy when the redhead mentions her first mutant difficulty. "Ouch. I know how that can go. When my powers first manifested, I couldn't keep the fireworks in at first. Then I found I could concentrate and pull them in, but I had to do it so much I got a headache, 'til I discovered the trick of keeping them in. It's a pity all of our powers are so... /individual/! I'd help you if I could, totally." The question draws a shy smile. "Gymnast, mostly. I do dance, though. What about you? What did you do before you discovered your powers?"

"Oh, I can see it. Most people can't though. That's why the headaches were constant. Just a person moving generates energy. I suppose I see it sort of like an aura around things, if you want to think of it that way," Jocelyn explains. "And why use a cannonball when I can just use the energy itself?" the girl asks. Much easier that way, and she can get more force behind a pure energy blast than shooting a solid object, she suspects. "Yeah, my first experience was a little more of the explode-y side of things. Been careful not to pull in too much since, but it makes practicing a little more tricky". The redhead shrugs at that. The two are talking in the atrium relatively early in the morning. The question as to what she did in the past draws an easy shrug from the girl. "Well, I was actually training to be a professional fighter. Probably in MMA or whatever the latest title for professional fighting ends up being. Been doing it since I was fairly little". Unofficially and officially, really. "It isn't nearly as glamorous as it sounds though. You spend all the free time you have in the gym or getting homework done so you don't flunk out of school. I suppose the pros have it a bit better though. Still, I found it to be pretty enjoyable, and it beat living on the streets".

"So you were absorbing your own movement energy... ouch! I'll bet that /did/ hurt," Jubes comments. "I'm glad you're doing better. Learning new powers is a major pain at first." She looks up and her eyes widen as Jocelyn explains her past. "So I'm looking at the potential next professional fighting champion? Remind me not to ever /really/ make you mad at me! But I don't doubt it beat living on the streets. Been there, done that, didn't bother to buy the t-shirt!"

The Xavier Institute's newest arrival isn't the only one trying to understand her powers. Kwabena Odame has been spending a lot of time in private places, doing what he hates... accessing feelings of grief in an effort to trigger, and learn to control, his liquid form.

It's taxing.

Kwabena seems to be walking with much greater vigor as he comes into the atrium. His black leather jacket is a little messed up, as if he'd hastily thrown it over his shoulders not long ago. However, two familiar faces are soon noticed amongst the crowd. For a moment, he thinks of turning away, of avoiding contact, but then, he's sure Jubilation would spot him.

Plus, it would set a bad example.

Damn.

Taking a deep breath, the African continues on his merry way, and forces a smile on his face as he walks toward the teenagers.

"Bah, unlikely now, though I'm not bad in a fight. Though if you've been there, of course you didn't buy the t-shirt. You steal the t-shirt in that sort of life," Jocelyn responds to Jubilee with the knowing smile of someone who completely understands what that life entails. "And yeah. Absorbing my own isn't the best plan. Best case scenario I do a great job of freezing myself in place as I can't move, which doesn't seem like the best of plans". Then Kwabena arrives, and Jocelyn turns to face him. "Hi there, Kwabena. Thanks for showing me around the other night when I arrived. I'm sorry if I wasn't fully myself, but the headaches have mostly passed on for now. How're you doing?" she asks the shifter. Since that's what his power does, it's sort of what Jocelyn has classified him in her mind.

"I'll bet you're still better'n me," Jubilee replies, stifling giggles. "Speaking of which, you're not offering lessons, are you? It'd beat putting up with Wolvie's big mouth and glaring!" She glances up, seeing a familiar face. "Kwa!" she calls, and hurries over to give him a hug. Good morning, Jubilee-style!

"Don't mentian it," answers the Ghanaian, his smile growing a bit more natural and laid back when he greets Jocelyn. It's worth noting that when Jubilee hugs Kwabena, he smells like cigarettes, which, while he does smoke, isn't the norm. Chain-smoking, perhaps?

Regardless, the African smirks and absolutely torments Jubilee's hair, a common thing between these two. "Good morning, Jubes," he answers, before letting her go and patting her shoulder. "I have been practahsing," he answers. "My liquid form. It is an altogedah unpleasahnt experience, so, perhaps we should talk about some few oddah things." He grins at the two, while casually deflecting anything about himself this time. "How have your classes been?"

"They start for me tomorrow. They wanted to give me a day without my head spinning to settle in properly. I spent most of yesterday alternating between exploring the place in a bit of a stupor and sleeping," Jocelyn explains to Kwabena. It did seem only fair, after all, to let her have one day of being capable of rational thought before throwing her into classes. "Though I've been doing some practice this morning. Marbles make for great test subjects for shooting small bolts of energy, and Jubilee was good enough to let me try some of her fireworks". That's a sort of class, and a very important part of learning, isn't it? She then turns to Jubilee. "And I could give you some lessons if you'd like," she adds. "If nothing else, it might give you something new to surprise him with. Though I don't think I've met this 'Wolvie'?" Maybe that's how she should address him the first time she meets him. That would go over great!

"I can totally see that," Jubilee agrees. "I mean, turning into a puddle doesn't sound like that much fun anyway, and I remember you saying you had to think sad thoughts to do it... I'm babbling, huh? I'll shut up. Good to see you!" She gives him an extra little hug before she lets go. And back her attention goes to Jocelyn. "I'd definitely like! Once somebody gets close to me, I'm Jubezpacho. I'd like to at least be able to keep 'em away long enough to yell for help!"

A flash of surprise comes across Kwabena's face. Busted! The look soon mellows out into something more dubious, and he leans aside toward Jubilee to say to her, "Remind me to teach you some few things about tact." He gives her a -look-. Good thing he can hide his blushes well. "Turning into a puddahl can have its advantages."

Turning back toward Jocelyn, Kwabena lifts his eyebrows and grins. "I don't tink Mistah Logan would appreciate dat nickname," he offers. "But, if you're gonna use it, I hope I'm dere to see it." Is that mirth in the mutant's mis-matched eyes? "So, would you show me de trick with your marbles?" he asks, "Unless it is too taxing, of course. You should not strain yourself."

"Sure," Jocelyn says to Jubilee. "When are you usually free?" She doesn't know Jubilee's schedule, after all, and can't plan training times if she doesn't know when the girl can make it. "We'll toughen you up in no time," she assures her fellow student with a grin. She doesn't actually comment on the statements about Kwabena's needs for his powers and sad thoughts. She's blunt, but she's not stupid. There is a difference! "I imagine turning into a puddle could be useful. Slip right under just about anything with the tiniest of cracks or through a keyhole, things like that. Seems useful to me". She'd seen a demonstration of his powers earlier. They were pretty impressive to her. "I can show you, sure". She pulls the bag of marbles out and sets a ruler down a couple feet away. "I'm aiming for the seven inch mark," she explains. She pulls in just a little bit of kinetic energy from around the room as she sets a marble down. She then releases the energy in an invisible blast, striking the marble. It rolls and rolls, stopping at the nine inch mark. "Too much force," she mutters. "Still working on accuracy and strength a bit," she explains.

Jubilee blinks. "I said it was /unpleasant/, not /useless/," she corrects Kwa. And Joce. "I could see it being great sometimes, but if you've got to be sad the whole time you're doing it, it sounds a lot less than fun. No offense, Shift, but it totally does." Fortunately, Jocelyn draws her attention. "I've got Danger Room three days a week. Maybe on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and weekends? We can work it out better once your schedule's on paper." She watches as the marble demonstration takes place. "So, what else can you move? I could see a bag of marbles being a great distraction, but what about larger things?"

A low whistle is provided when Jocelyn displays her power. "Impressive control, Detroit." It seems that Kwabena has picked up a knack for giving people nicknames, and he has a feeling that one would stick. "Keep dat up and you'll be able to hit seventeen yards with absolute accuracy in no time."

A nod of his head is given at the usefulness of his presumed liquid state. "My smoke state required harnessing feelings of fear at first. With time and practice, I have learned to change without having to access dose feelings. So, I am hopeful. Doesn't mean I look forward to -dat- kind of practice."

"I'm not sure yet, to be honest. I haven't tried any heavy energy use since I got here, and my only experience with that so far was when my powers manifested, and I sort of accidentally blew up a building when I lost control," Jocelyn explains. So she's taking the slow and patient route to pulling in a lot of power. "Thanks, Kwabena. It's just like playing marbles. Just shooting a blast of energy at it instead of flicking it with my finger. A very small blast," the girl explains as she picks the marble and the ruler back up. "I figured it'd be a good way to start working on the basics". She smiles a little at the nickname. Yeah, it's kind of an obvious nickname, but not a bad one. She'd see if it stick or not. "And those days should work just fine," she agrees. Though she does raise her eyebrow at the mention of the Danger Room. Nobody has even mentioned that to her yet. "Danger Room?"

"I put my sweatpants on, now I'm snuggly cuddly, Sweatpants on now I'm snuggly cuddly..." Someone was singing in the early morning, "Hustle in my sweatpants now I'm hustle-y, Hustle-y..." Vic 'Anole' Borkowski appears from the way of the dorms, giving a wave to those in the atrium, as he tugs earbuds out of his ears. "Morning!"

"Long story. Let's just say it's a great way to practice... as long as Wolvie's not running it, anyway," Jubilee amends hastily, grimacing. "You'll find out about it before long." Everyone does. She glances up at the sound of... singing? Okay, she'll be polite and call it that. "Hey, Vic! On the list for American Idol yet?" she asks teasingly.

"Dis is why we practice," Kwabena replies, momentarily using a lower tone of voice. Jocelyn's story was a common one, and while it wasn't one he shared, he'd encountered his own unique dangers when learning to use his mutagene. "We ah fortunate to have a safe place to do so." He, also, does not specifically mention the Danger Room.

All things in good time.

A slow turn of his head is given when Vic shows up, and one of Kwabena's eyebrows shoots up into the air. "Keep dat up and I will load Ghanaian pop songs into dat iPod," he quips, then shoots Anole a grin. "How you doing, Vic?"

There's a grunt from just outside the atrium, originating in the hallway leading towards the back of the mansion. A particularly scruffy Logan pads silently and gracefully-- deceptively so for a man of his build and bearing-- into the room, casting a sidelong half-scowl towards Jubilee. Or maybe all of them; those blue eyes sweep over the impromptu gathering with characteristic alertness and intensity.. and perhaps a touch of edge. It's been a long week, and Wolverine hasn't been at the Institute for much of it.

The marks left by violent conflict have long since faded from the feral runt, however, at least externally. Returning sometime in the night doesn't stop Logan from getting in his morning practice, a pair of simple, worn out gi pants partnered with a similarly black tank top, an old, sheathed katana held in his left hand. Yes, he's been out in the winter morning like /that/, if one pauses to think about his trajectory.

Oh wow. Someone would get shot on principle for singing a song with 'Snuggly Cuddly' in the lyrics at all in any of the neighborhoods Jocelyn was from. Probably from multiple people at the same time. "Good morning," she greets Anole, not recognizing him as she hasn't met him yet. She's about to comment further when Wolverine shows up with that look. Jocelyn can't help but blink a couple times at the man before turning back to the group. Time on the streets made one acutely aware of threats, and she could tell at a glance that man was someone she had zero interest in pissing off. So, the new member of the institute does what is best in this situation, and that's be quiet and let the others do the talking.

Anole's cell phone goes off just as he's about to speak to his friends, "Oops. MOm! Gotta take it, morning, I'll be back! Hiii MOm! No.. everything at school is great.."

"Yup," Jubilee says, agreeing with Kwa. "It's one thing to control your powers on the couch in the den, and totally another to do it with Brood coming at you, wanting to have you for a between-meal snack! That's where the Danger Room comes in. I'll bet they'll start you on that soon." Uh-oh. She'd know that growly grunt anywhere. Jubilee casually /doesn't/ look in the direction of Wolvie... um, Logan. For there, Death awaits. With nasty, big, pointy claws!

Logan's arrival draws Kwabena's attention after Jocelyn looks and Jubilee purposefully doesn't. All of the sudden, talk of practice, honing one's mutant powers, and sneaking Ghanaian pop music onto a student's iPad go out the window into the bitter cold.

He'd been anticipating Logan's return. A brief glance is sent the Canadian's way, then another look is spent upon the students. Anole and Jubilation were well aware of the mansion's other side, but as for Jocelyn? A touch of tact is certainly warranted. Granted, Jubilee had already used the words, 'Danger Room'...

"How was de hunt?" he asks the older X-Man, eyes squinting in a thoughtful way. He'd fully expected Wolverine to have at least tried to pick up Highball's trail.

One trick Logan has perfected: How to win friends and influence people. Or maybe that's one he's still working on; so hard to keep track, some days. A second, half-sighed grunt comes as he pauses his trek towards the stairs to plant one shoulder against the outer bannister and survey the gathering with a bit less projected surlyness. "Which one?" It's rhetorical, with undertones of gruff bemusement crossed with equally understated, weeks-old agitation. Logan has a fairly good idea what's on Shift's mind, though.

"Your boy hit a street doc on the way out o' town. Enough to stop the bleedin'. None of 'em knew where he was headed, and far as I can tell it was a long haul." Logan's quite confident he got the information out of Highball's medic. "We got other problems, though." Not that he's anything but oblique with his wording, just now. There's a cant to his head as he looks back towards Jocelyn, no matter how hard she tries to avoid notice. "You're puttin' this one in the Danger Room?"

It's unclear if Wolverine doubts her, or thinks it's /hilarious/. That brow-furrowed consideration doesn't help illustrate, much.

Alright, there's a lot of dancing around this subject. Jocelyn shrugs and turns over towards Wolverine. "Well, it sounds like something that'll happen eventually," she says to the man, keeping her tone pleasent but firm. She already showed a little bit too much nervousness around the man, so she figures she should try and make up for that. "Just got here a couple days ago though, so it seems like it isn't immediate," she adds to the man. "Though I am getting curious about this room, what with all people are talking about it," she adds. She can't really read much from kinetic energy regarding emotions, sadly, so she had no idea as to what Wolverine means by the comment. She does know better than to ask about the hunt though. It's obviously something that is on a need-to-know basis, and she doubts that she yet needs to know. Instead, the teenager shrugs and continues on. "I imagine it's some sort of training place for powers?"

... which is precisely why Kwabena has -not- at all reacted to talk of the Danger Room. Though he can anticipate Jubilee getting some more 'detention time' in the holographic chamber. He casts a smirk the mall rat's way, as if to say, 'have you learned a lesson today?'

"Logan, meet Jocelyn Stream. Latest enrollee from Detroit." Which, perhaps, also explains the need for discretion in how, exactly, he and Logan discuss 'the hunt'.

Speaking of, Kwabena turns back toward Logan, frowning. "Of course it was," he murmurs. "But, we have a lead. Found some blood on my..." Not uniform. "... clothes. It's been analyzed. Belongs to Highball."

As if to draw attention away from the two adult's quiet conversation, Kwabena looks back toward Jocelyn. "Very intuitive of you," he admits. "I am sure you will be introduced to it when it is time."

The staircase creaks objections when more of Logan's weight is shifted against it, then once more as he eases off slightly. Heavier than he looks, all muscle or no. Wolverine lets out a halfway affirming, if not overly enlightening, little 'Mmn.' at Jocelyn's assessment. "Just learnin' yer powers, you can do anywhere. Danger Room's about keeping that control.. under stress." Which he heard someone imply on his way in, but seems to enjoy clarifying, complete with a momentary grin full of white teeth.. and pointed canines. If it's too late to quell curiousity, there are other options.

"Wouldn't rush it." That punctuating thought? Couched in more serious, somber tones. It's called 'Danger' for a damn reason. Those blue eyes shift back to Jubilee for a moment, narrowing subtly. As far as bloodspatter from Highball, well. Logan got some of the guy on him, as well. "What's that matter?" The Canucklehead inquires, attention shifting (mercifully for Jubilation) back to Kwabena before the situation gets further consideration.

"Fair enough," Jocelyn says. "When I get a little used to doing more than pushing a few small objects around or small blasts safely then," she states. She doesn't have to use it now. She was just getting tired of all this secrecy about it. It's an advanced training room. That makes sense to her. "Sort of like you wouldn't train with live steel until you were sure you weren't going to cut your own arm off," she comments with a shrug. However, she then falls quiet and takes a few casual steps back. She could tell the adults wanted to have some sort of conversation, so giving them space seemed prudent. With the others tied up with phone calls or just being quiet, she decides to pull out the marbles and practice shooting them lightly some more with kinetic force.

Just outside of the atrium a blacked out BMW rolls around and parks near the front of the Institute's doors, idling for a moment before powering down into silence. Not long after the vehicle's lone occupant climbs out and pushes the door closed with the tread of a boot, tucking a katana beneath one arm and nursing a fresh coffee in the other.

The woman that steps into the atrium looks like death warmed over, all pale skin and blacked out features. There's some fresh cuts and scrapes dusting her powdery skin and the weight of long hours with little sleep hanging around her eyes. Domino doesn't get two steps into the atrium before her pace falters, staring at the group beyond with the cup held up against her lips. Either she feels caught in the act or she's just surprised to see the social gathering around here. "Hi..!"

It is indeed called the Danger Room for a reason... a fact that Jubilee'd pointed out, thank-you-very-much. Why Logan has to spend so much of his time glaring at her is a mystery that continually escapes the mall rat. She doesn't comment or look his way, just edges back with Jocelyn. The redhead seems to have the right idea. She glances over once they're a little ways away. "Want to go upstairs? It's a /lot/ less crowded..." And then someone new walks in. Someone who looks a little the worse for wear. "Dom?" Jubilee asks, blinking in surprise. "Whoa. Would this be a good time to offer help getting back to your room?"

There is a little shrug of the African's shoulders, frown dissipating somewhat. "With blood sample comes many tings. I will ask Doctah McCoy if he can use it to find some way of stopping him. Inhibiting his mutagene. Slow him down, and he can be apprehended." The subtext? Slow him down and we won't have to kill him.

Not that Kwabena wouldn't be opposed to putting lead in Highball's brain, especially after witnessing the slaughter at St. Anthony's Church in Harlem. However difficult it was, though, the high road was more rewarding. Besides, how exactly does one kill a mutant who is faster than a speeding bullet?

Jocelyn's observation and subsequent removal draws Kwabena's attention next. In a way, he felt bad for shutting her out, but, the conversation was important, and how could he impress upon a sixteen-year-old girl the weight of a mass murderer's actions? He was good with the kids, but all too often, he didn't give them the credit they deserved. "That's -exactly- how to view it," he begins, hoping not to make the girl feel alienated. "You will find dat it-"

The newest arrival stops his words cold. Way to go, Kwa, making the girl not feel alienated! Good thing Jubilee steps in to take some of that burden, for Kwabena seems momentarily distracted by something.

Katana show-and-tell day. Logan's is still gripped by saya in his left fist, as his eyes consider Domino's arms-- and then the operative's wounds. "I'll slow him down." is the terse, decidedly irritable, but half-distracted reply to Odame's assessment of their options against Highball. The subtext? Wolverine will be glad to flamin' kill him. He can even see a few reasons that might be better for everyone involved! It's an interesting life.

Instead of commenting further, though, Logan just affirms Shift's further words. "Yup." ... if not particularly in-depth. After all, there's another question pressing on the agenda. "What happened to you?" There's a knowing edge underlying any of the subdued concern. "Look like you got blown out of yer sniper's nest unaware." Beat. "Or somethin'."

..Huh. Logan's got a sword of his own on hand. Unlikely odds, right there... It's given a second of consideration before Dom puts the matter aside altogether, opting for a lopsided grin that finds its way to Jubilee first. "Not just yet, kiddo." This conversation is looking to be more interesting than something she'd like to breeze right through without further participation.

The new girl, Jocelyn, is given a looking over of her own. Fresh blood, or an existing student that she didn't bump into before today? Always hard to tell around here, lots of people milling about. That and she never sits still for more than an hour or so.

Logan's question is met with a forced look of amusement, offering "Something like that." In truth, after that late night sniping exercise she wound up taking a brief tour of Tokyo, hence where the blade (and a bunch of her new wounds upon slightly less new wounds) originated from. "Some of us enjoy our late evening walks," she states with a meaningful look passed directly at him.

"Okay... but let me know if you get woozy?" Jubilee says, moving a little closer to her driving teacher. Just in case. The last time somebody she knew looked that tired and injured, they /did/ need help.

"Not a problem. Whichever is good with you," Jocelyn says to Jubilee. She isn't especially offended that people want to have conversations privately. She's a kid and she's used to that sort of thing. However, all the katanas that are being brought in gives Jocelyn an idea that something is going on. People don't just casually walk around with weapons, even sheathed, unless they know they might have to use them or have been using them. "I should get to settling in and maybe find the gym or something". She gathers up her marbles once more, pocketing them before turning back towards the stairs.

One of Kwabena's eyebrows gets shot upward. It wasn't that he doubted Logan's speed, but he'd never really seen the mutant in full capacity. He -had- encountered Highball at full capacity. Twice. "Got to keep in him one place first," he notes. That conversation seems to have come to an abrupt halt. Which is fine, really. Logan now knows about the blood sample match, and Shift has no doubt the Canucklehead will keep up the hunt.

Now that the attention seems to have moved toward Domino, Kwabena finally seems to have gotten over that halted conversation. Concern enters his mis-matched eyes, but he keeps it well blocked from his mannerisms, at least for now. Lips press into a thin line, which eventually curls into a very subtle smirk. "I know what she needs."

Into his jacket his hand goes, and out comes a metal flask. Sure, there are kids around, but well... they're going to see the adults' 'adult' side soon enough. He flings it through the air toward Domino, watching to judge her reaction time. -That- will tell him how well she's really doing.

"Welcome to de jungahl, Detroit," Kwabena sends over his shoulder toward the departing Jocelyn. "De animals may bite, but dey aren't venomous."

"Right. Where was I?" Vic asked, as he appeared again from his phone call from his mother. "Oh, right. Morning everyone!" he offers, giving a wave. He is, of course, wearing the sweatpants he had sung about a moment before.

In this case? Wolverine's already been using his blade! For just the kind of live steel practice that Jocelyn reasons is best to save for practiced hands; his certainly qualify. There's a twinge of near-regret at the intimidated response from the younger students, but in the end it's probably best for them anyway.. even if the girls aren't really the target of Logan's mood and demeanor.

There's a half-committal nod to Kwabena's warning; 'places' would work just fine for Wolverine, where that guy is concerned. His eyes track the arcing flask with a bit of a chuckle, breathed quietly in a syllable or two, rather than heartily enjoyed. "Somethin' like that." He agrees, with no one of them in particular.

"You know... I should show you where that stuff is," Jubilee reasons, nodding firmly. "Upstairs it is!" She gives the room a little wave and turns for the stairs. "Morning, Vic! Bye, Vic!" No point in being rude, after all!

Jocelyn nods to Jubilee. "Sounds good. See you all later". And the girl heads up the stairs with Jubilee, to go figure out where things in the mansion are. That would be very useful information for a new resident to know!

"See yah, Jubes!" Vic replied as Jubilee ran on upstairs. "So. Who's up for breakfast, its pancake day, isn't it?" Why else get up early?! "It can't be just me who likes those floppy bastards." Vic's grin a mile wild, not a care in the world. Youth.

If Domino didn't hear Kwabena's words and watch him reaching for the flask there may well either be a sword or a pool of hot coffee upon the floor a moment later. It's all she can do to tuck the blade under her other arm -just- before the flask enters local airspace, the albino managing to catch it without too much loss of grace. She is run down, clearly, but letting bourbon hit the floor? That's just alcohol abuse.

And now her hands are full. So much for ruffling Jubilee's hair in passing. "Later, kids." In the meantime, she has a personal vice to feed.

Kwabena studies the arc of his flask carefully, attention split between the way Domino tucks the sword and snatches the bottle from the air. His smirk broadens out just so. "She'll be fine," he denotes, before turning back toward Logan.

The mention of pancakes stops him cold, and he looks toward Vic with two blinking eyes. "Pancakes?" he asks, almost in disbelief. "I hope dey have someting -else-..." He casts his attention back toward Logan, considering. "I could use a bite," he points out.

Anole's eyes grow wide at Kwabena's apparent dislike of pancakes. "What, you don't like pancakes?!" Disbelief shows on the green kid's face. "Look. The pancakes are fluffy and delicious, you could get just some eggs. I guess." Anole shrugs. "Come on, surely bacon-chocolate chip pancakes will change your mind. Unless you're a waffle guy, in which case, just as good." Both of the teen's hands up, open- conciliatory. "Why else get up early if you don't want to /feast/ on griddle cooked goodness?"

"Keeps you sharp." Logan answers Anole's otherwise rhetorical question with a half-grin, before passing around the base of the staircase and starting up the stairs. "Be back down for a plate." Once he leaves his sword in his room, maybe has a moment to consider everything else that's going on. "Smells good." He notes, informatively observing, as he traipses towards the second floor, using the opposite end of the hall from where Jubilee and Jocelyn just disappeared.

Then there's a call for pancakes, reminding Domino of how long it's been since she's had some actual -food.- "I'm gonna need more hands," she mutters while capping the flask. There's a quick whistle to get Kwabena's attention before she flings it back his way. Logan's going upstairs to put his blade away, which means she'll wait until later to do the same with hers (it would make a nice wall decoration for an otherwise empty room.) "Nuts to this, if there's food ready then so am I."

The African hooks a thumb toward the departing Logan, as if to suggest he agrees. "When you've been up practicing and medidating since four fifteen in de morning, Victah, de last thing you are craving... is -pancakes-." That sharp whistle draws his bead, and he quickly darts his hand up into the air. Lips peel back in a look of sudden and borderline -maniacal- concentration, and his hand turns into some kind of matter state between solid and liquid.

The flask strikes putty, stretches it back a bit, then is captured in full. Kwabena gasps openly as the hand reforms into human flesh again, and he draws the flask down to look at it with a quiet sort of amazement. The strain on his face seems to be momentarily deflected by a look of success, and he quickly tosses the flask into the air before stuffing it back inside his jacket.

"Dis is why we -practice-," he quips, for Anole's benefit, before glancing Domino's way once more. There is a brief uncertainty before he jerks his head the way of the cafeteria, a silent invitation. "Let's go."

That's... Yeww. By comparison, Dom's glad that her power doesn't involve deforming her own flesh and bone like Kwabena does. But, it's also a perfect opportunity for an 'I told you so.' "Gotta know your limits first," she reminds the guy with a teasing smirk. He couldn't do that trick but a week ago. But, an invitation's an invitation. She catches her gear and drink and follows along.

"Eh. I'd rather be dull and full of bacon chocolate-chip pancakes. And an omelet. Bacon and cheese, maybe some sausage. Oh, man." Polish-kid likes big breakfasts! Vic grins over towards Shift. "I'm pretty sure I practice so I don't get pounded when I go outside." he winks towards the African faculty. "So, why don't you like pancakes?"

"You know," answers Shift, "I'm not always a big -fan- of limits." It's an easy enough confession. Kwabena likes to push himself as hard as he can, after all. "Getting pounded is nevah a good thing," he says toward Vic as they start making for the cafeteria. "I, for one, am -pretty much- impervious to physical attacks." He leans closer. "Don't tell Mistah Logan dat." Leaning away, he adds, "Howevah. Energy weapons are extremely dangahrous to me. So is being caught in an explosion. Practicing my ability is not enough. I have to learn to be aware, make quick decisions, think with my head and not with my..."

Wait just a second. There are younger students passing by. He casts Vic a dubious look, then jerks his head downward. You know. They're guys. Doesn't need to be said out loud.

"At least, not always."

A moment later there's a soft voice directed at Kwabena, "Smooth."

"A bit of punishment is healthy," Domino continues on, this time for everyone's benefit. If what she's saying is even beneficial. "Reminds you that you're not invincible, that there's still risks involved in everything that you do. Keeps you from getting careless."

A low rumble in her stomach isn't far behind, her mind locked onto the idea of food more than personal abuse. "Look kiddo, I know we don't have far to go here but can you please tone down the culinary speak for five minutes?"

Anole stifles a laugh. "Well. I guess that's a good thing..." He offers towards Kwabena. "Sure. Its not long until the doors open." And who's first in line? Anole. "I wanted to get down here before some of the /really/ big eaters, you know? Lucky for us, they also tend to sleep in."

"You know, speaking of practice, I think I'd like to take a couple extra shifts in the basement, if you know what I mean. Since those riots, I've just been a little on edge, you know? Things are just different from how they were at home."

"As far as why I don't like -pancakes-," Kwabena offers, to answer Vic's earlier question? "Far too sweet. One day I will fix food from Ghana for you. Jollof rice with smoked crayfish and ampesie. You will undahstand -den- why I dislike sweets."

Domino's remark draws an eye, that borders on a glare from Kwabena. That glare, however, eventually turns into a smirk-laden deflection. "De whiskey? Yes, -very- smooth. Dickel seven-year, from Tennessee." He reaches up with lanky fingers, presses them to his lips, then does one of those mid-air kisses like the French chefs do in Disney movies.

Like Kwabena has ever seen a Disney movie.

Except that Disney now owns Marvel Entertainment. Whoops.

"De day I cook Omo Tuo with smoked tilapia, watch yourselves. It is a bone-in filet, and if you don't -eat- de bone, it is considered disgraceful." He gets in line behind Anole, folds his arms over his chest, and watches with a hawklike expression as the teenager inevitably goes for the pancakes. "A good work out is a nice way to relieve tenshan," he agrees, perhaps with more empathy than might be expected.

Not another second passes before Domino can be heard groaning from the back of the line. Now -Kwabena- is talking about food... "Care to see if you're also immune to being stabbed?" she mutters to him under her breath, tapping a fingernail against the hilt of her sword.

Last in line with the trio, but still beating the morning rush. She looks from one hand to the other, sets down her coffee, stuffs the scabbard into a few straps of her combat harness, then snatches a tray for both her morning brew and the pile of food that's soon to help occupy it. "There's that, too."

Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more say no more.

"'Course, some people also start fires or blow things up." Insert subtle elbow to Kwabena's ribs here.

Pancakes. A whole stack. Some cheesey eggs, sausage, bacon. Its a big 'American' breakfast. "That sounds pretty good, actually. I used to go fishing with my Dad, sometimes. Though, mostly trout and bass." he says back, "Dad said he'd send some great polish sausage for that trip Mr. Summers is taking us on soon. The one to the island. Have you ever had a great kielbasa?" he wondered over towards Kwabena. "We know a guy who makes them." Just a kid making conversation. With all his food piled up, he's moving towards a nice table near a window. "Yeah.." Dom's words about explosions bring Vic back to the Riots.

Without looking over his shoulder, Kwabena adopts a smug grin. "I am," he claims, in reference to being immune to stabbings. "Would be a shame to have to go trough anodah leathah jacket, dough."

Was that a barely stifled laugh? Sure, there may have been some coldness from Kwabena toward Domino ever since that incident in the Medical Bay. Seems they are working on smoothing that over, at least. Did his smirk just grow a bit more? Double down on the bet that Anole isn't immune to catching sexual innuendo when he hears it.

"Unfortunately," he answers Vic, while scooping up a healthy portion of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit onto his tray, "I will not be attending de vacation. I, for one, am not much for dem. I have offered to stay behind and keep charge of de mansion. It will be a daunting task, but Ororo and Doctah Grey will also be here, so it will not be completely up to me to keep de place from falling down. I tell you what, Pancakes. You bring me some of dis 'kielbasa', and I will fix you de Omo Tuo."

Pause, as he's jabbed in the ribs.

Still keeping his attention on Vic, Kwabena bares his teeth. "De bones will sharpen your pearly whites." Only at this point does he glance Domino's way, cocking one eyebrow up into the air while motioning toward her with his hand. The skin around his fingers begins to perceivably melt, before being drawn back into flesh and bone again. She'll recognize the threat.

A little for column A, a little from column B, a -whole lot- from column C... Dom passes a sheepish grin at a person working the other side of the counter, getting a wide-eyed stare in return.

"Got in a fight with a Chevy," she nonchalantly declares.

Heck, she's got no real reason to be ticked off at Kwabena. Aside from the whole 'liquid bitchslap' thing that he did before, but to be fair she did have it coming. Tripping on pain meds and adrenaline does not make for a civilized tongue.

It does, however, lead to some hilarity at times.

That little threat gets a silent 'yeah, whatever' look back from the albino, instead rolling with the conversation at hand. "You're not? Hell, even I'm thinking about tagging along." If she can work it into her schedule. Those contracts won't fulfill themselves! If they did she would miss their payouts, too. Can't have that. "I can't -always- be working on my moon tan."

"Deal!" Vic says towards Kwabena at the offer involving trading of cultural cuisines. "Dad always sends too much anyways, when he sends me care packages involving food. I think he means for me to cook my way to popularity." Vic gives a quiet half smile now, letting bad memories fade. "It'll be a lot of fun, I mean, a nearly deserted island in the middle of the south pacific? THat's an /awesome/ trip. How many guys my age can say they've done that?!" Excited again the teen continues to relay this to the pair of 'adults', "Everyone's /really/ excited. I know I am." He grins wide now, and begins the taste of destroying his meal. Pancakes get syrup. So do the sausages. The bacon. But not the eggs, never the eggs.

"It'll just be nice to get away, and have some time to really let loose. Everyone's all stressed out around here, recently."

The truth? An island paradise might remind Kwabena too much of his estranged home. The lie? "A promise is a promise. De mansion needs its keepah."

Sitting down at the table, Kwabena seems to visibly relax before digging into his eggs. A grin curls the edges of his mouth as he eats, speaking politely between bites. "Dat moon tan has a serious risk of becoming a moon burn," he quips in Domino's direction. "My advice? SPF seventy." Looking back toward Anole, he nods his head while stabbing some scrambled egg. "Dere have been many challenges lately," he offers. "Lot of reasons for de teachah's and even students to be undah preshah." He forks some egg into his mouth, then casts a meaningful glance Domino's way. She hadn't yet been made aware of the developments related to the Highball case. Delaying that for now, he turns back to the younger mutant. "So, home is Poland for you, is dat right?"

"The marvels of modern sunscreen," Domino replies without missing a beat (or a chance to impale part of her breakfast with a well-placed fork.) Then, perhaps joking along in her usual deadpan tone, adds in "Eighty-five."

Some details she doesn't need to know. Not right away, at least. As far as the Highball situation goes, she's played her part and was lucky enough to not get caught up in the fallout. If she's needed again then someone's going to find her about it. Hopefully that never catches up to her.

When the next question is aimed at Vic she simply watches with interest, terrorizing the various foodgroups upon her tray as she listens. This guy's still a mystery to her, information is information.

"Well, we're polish descent. I was born in Illinois, not too far from Chicago. Fairbury, represent!" Anole said with clear hometown pride. "Best city in all of the US. I could bring /anyone/ here home to visit and no one would make them feel weird for being a mutant. No one there is like some of the people I've met over here. I mean, I still think most people are like they are back at home. Maybe they're just scared to stand up for what's right." Anole offered, "So, the only thing to do is stand up, you know? Not let people pick on you. The good people will stand up when they see some bravery." Vic nods, as if this were absolute truth. "I guess it be neater if I was actually from Poland, everyone else seems to be from way out there places. And me, normalville USA." Another decimation of pancake, sausage and egg soon follows. Ovum overkill and slaughtered sausages to soon be devoured by uncaring Reptilian teens.

"Normahlville, USA does not sound dat bad," answers Kwabena. "Spent some few months living in Chicago, before Gotham, den New York," he offers. "Humboldt Park, some few places on de south side. Ugly town, dat place can be sometimes." Ugly town, as in racist cops, blatant gang violence, and a serious drug abuse problem littering the city's ghettos. Not to mention gentrification, which doesn't do much for the city's problem with racism, both the classic human and more modern types.

"Still not as ugly as Detroit," he points out. "De new student, Jocelyn? Can already tell de girl's got tough skin." He motions with his fork toward both Domino and Vic. "Be glad you two turned out alright." His fork lingers upon Domino for a moment, eyes flashing. "Well, mostly."

Chicago. Dom doesn't stop stuffing her face (real lady, right here,) though there is a subtle tensing in the back of her shoulders when that city gets dropped amongst the trio. Hearing Vic's enthusiasm toward it helps to put her at ease a moment later.

Frig. She's sitting on information that could very well help this kid better connect with his new environment, but to share something like that would only invite more questions about her own history. Her pace in making breakfast disappear gradually slows as the thought twists itself into knots within her mind.

No. Today's not his lucky day. Especially not after Kwabena takes over in her stead. Go go convenient deflection. "Mostly," she agrees with that traditional crooked smirk of hers.

"If things were working out for you back in your home town, what brought you all the way out to Westchester?" she asks the lizardly one. "Word of the Institute at work again?"

"My parents thought it might be the best place for me, with Mr. Xavier's reputation." Again, flashes of memory. The young man pausing in his eating. "Since the riots, I think they're right." he offers, quietly. "Even if I go back to Fairbury, I need to know how to protect my home. Myself. My friends and family. Here, I can be armed with the proper arguments against those who'd consider my genetics somehow an issue." Vic returns, "That, and I was the only mutant back home. I guess they wanted me to have a support system that understood better than they could." Here, a kid with supportive, loving parents. No abuse. No painful memories. Just a happy, easy childhood like everyone deserves.

"Anyways, I've been making some amazing friends here. And it is really nice to know they get the whole mutant thing, people back home tried their best, but they really didn't know. They couldn't know. Its like trying to explain a colors to a blind man."

Patiently listening provides Kwabena plenty of time to work through his eggs and move on to the bacon. He's halfway through spiking a chunk of melon when he speaks up again. "Resources dat you couldn't possibly have back at home," he says, with an understanding nod of his head. "A place to undahstand yourself bettah." A sort of half-hearted grin forms, for while he was happy for Vic, there were far too many who didn't have such luxury.

Including Vic's two breakfast pals.

"It's a very precarious scenario," offers Kwabena, in reference to the riots, and really, the greater picture. "It's not de first time people have had to deal with something like dis. History is full of similar social challenges, and no matter what happens, dere will be scars that take generations to heal." He casts a glance Domino's way, having noticed the tensing of her shoulders, but speaks nothing of it. "Like trying to explain color to a white man," he pointedly adds.

"And out here you're already jumping up into the accelerated courses," Dom says with a slightly lowered tone. The riot of recent, for instance. She had been lucky enough to not get caught up in that, though she's well aware that it's reached the attention of many of the souls within these walls, to varying degrees of emotional distress.

"We look out for our own out here," she says. Partly for her own benefit. Sometimes she needs that audial reminder of why she's here to begin with. "I have a habit of making myself elusive so no hard feelings if you have no idea who I am. Name's Domino, I'm part of the security detail for this place. Also the resident firearms instructor, in case you ever feel like blowing up some milk jugs." Frankly, she doesn't mind if Vic looks young. That's what the instruction is for.

Kwabena's remark about explaining color to a white man earns him a teasing glance. "What are you tryin' to say, Kwa?" There's white, then there's -white.-

"Try green sometime." Vic offers towards the dark-skinned man, and the albino. Two colors found naturally on humans all over the world. Well, more so in Kwabena's case than Dom's. "Its really nice to meet you, Ms. Domino." Vic offers, grinning. "I think this place is pretty secure over all, you'd have to be crazy to try something here. I mean, between you guys, Mr. Summers, Professor Xavier, Ms. Gray... It be pretty damn crazy to try and come /here/. Still, its nice to know you can sleep easy." He raises his juice towards Dom and Kwabena both.

"I've never shot a gun before." Vic continues, "But, I guess I should learn the skill, just in case."

"Learning how to shoot from a trained expert in a controlled environment is far bettah dan learning how to shoot on de streets of Crenshaw," he points out approvingly. "Besides, a trained expert will not only teach you how it works. She'll teach you how to be safe, and how to respect de weapon. You don't want to go accidentally blowing your foot off." A grin forms. "Not dat dat's a problem for -all- peopahl."

The remarks about skin tone earn a snort from Kwabena. "White is one thing. -You-" He pokes his fork toward Domino, "-are anodah story. And you, Vic? God bless you." He motions toward his eyes with the fork, one a natural brown, the other an entirely unnatural silver. "Dis is all I got, and I don't even know why. My theory is dat the silvah eye is filled with magical gas, but dat one nevah seemed to work on de ladies."

"Green's a nice color," she says with a slight grin. "Easy on the eyes. Blends in with nature. Glad you're fitting in around these parts."

"No such thing as a useless skill," Domino agrees with a raising of her coffee in turn. Given the state things are in lately, it could just save some lives, too. Not that she voices this part, she can be all Doom and Gloom without an audience.

"'Pixie dust' is more flattering," she sides to Kwabena. "Though only just. It always reminds me of aluminum powder. Magic not included." Nor required.

"I can blend in. Blending in is /easy/." Vic offers, as his form soon seems to almost shimmer into nothigness. CLose eyes will see Vic has simply taken on the colors of his environment. The floating fork is a dead-give away. Vic shimmers back into his normal green tone not moments later. "Thanks, Ms. Domino!" he says when the compliment comes, however. "And ladies rarely like gassy men, I don't think anyone who likes guys likes them gassy."

"Pixie dust," Shift snorts. "I tink I like aluminum powdah bettah." He goes silent upon observing Vic's mutation at work, and points his fork toward the green-skinned mutant with a look of admiration. "Now -dat- is a unique trick," he says. "For me to disappear, I need dahkness, or shadows, or apparently, a big pile of liquid to melt into."

"Well, I am a fairly down to Earth kinda g--" Dom starts in with that whole matter of Shift's eye before her thoughts get completely disrupted, staring at Vic. Or where he used to be. It's, for lack of better words, an awesome presentation. She points her fork meaningfully at the youth when she asks "I'm going to have to keep my eye on you, aren't I?"

It's quickly followed by a laugh when Vic counters the 'gassy' argument. "Hell, I like you, kiddo. Yeah yeah, you people and your fancy powers. If I want to disappear I have to play it oldschool."

"It also masks my scent. I was able to hide from some of the other students with their enhanced noses during a game of manhunt. Between that, and the wall-crawling thing. Honestly, that's my favorite. Just like spiderman, all up on the walls. The weird one is the tongue thing." Vic chooses not to demonstrate that power, at least not while people are eating.

Vic grins at Dom's laugh. "Thanks. You're really nice too, Ms. Domino." the young man offers as he finishes that heaping plate of food. "Almost everyone here is nice, though. Its made the transition a lot easier."

"Two eyes," agrees Shift with a dubious look Domino's way. "Would hate to lose track of you on some opahration, or an island vacation for dat mattah." Of course, when Vic compliments Domino, Kwabena offers his own touch of laughter. "You just don't know her well enough, Vic. Give it time."

Like he's one to speak.

This time it's a low, thoughtful sound coming from the albino. Could it be that sitting here at this table is a student capable of completely hiding from the likes of Logan? She may well put money down on Vic if it came down to a face-off between the two! "Quite a few tricks you've got there," Domino says in as friendly of a tone as she's likely to have.

Wait. He's calling her -nice?- Wow, this little guy really is full of surprises. There's the initial, purely reflexive urge to strike the compliment down, but she manages to keep it to herself. Fortunate timing of a mouthful of sausage link, there.

Besides, Kwabena's got it covered. Funny how things work out sometimes.

Plus, now she's got another excuse to give the Ghandian a hard time. "Oh sure, just scare everyone away from me."

Vic begins to clean up his spot, smiling to the two adults. "So." he begins, "I'll wait until then, I guess." he offers to Shift, shaking his head as he does. "Haven't seen anything but nice, so far. But, like I said, everyone here is, and has been pretty nice. Some of the kids have issues, but.. they usually have some horror stories, too."

With a teasing grin sent Domino's way, Kwabena replies, "How else am I supposed to keep you all to myself?" Now finished with his meal, he begins to stand. "Good sharing breakfast with you two. Believe it or not, I now have a class to teach on survival techniques."

"Few people around here don't come pre-packaged with a few dark spots," Domino seconds. "Comes with the territory, but it's another one of those things everyone can connect with." If they allow it. Some play their hands closer to their chests than others. "By all means, form your own opinions," she offers while Kwabena excuses himself and walks away. She releases a tired breath, continuing. "They're the ones that matter most. Just be sure that they're well informed."

Alright, the coffee saturation tactic isn't working. Jetlag is starting to creep up on her again. "Listen, I'm going to scoot as well. Take it easy, kiddo."

Anole nods. "Nice meeting you, Ms. Domino!" the young man offers as he drops his plate off. Time to start the day.