At first the girl in the blue plaid button up and blue jeans came up from the bunker below as people were starting to gather in the bar itself. Not just people, she knew, but mutants. They were all around her age. They all had the same look, just different variations of the same look. None of them looked too comfortable.

Estella gave a polite little smile and excused herself as she pressed through the bottleneck near the bar entrance, wanting to go outside. It was there in the shadows of New York City that Estella reached for a pack of cigarettes in her shirt breast pocket, the metal lighter in her pocket, and enjoyed what accounted to a 'quiet moment' in the biggest city Estella had ever seen. When sunlight came, it came in neat lines, peeking between and over buildings. Depending on the time of day, your street either got sun, or got shadow.

In what seemed fitting, Estella found herself in shadow as she smoked the silk cut cigarette in solitude, her hair pulled back and tied into a lazy ponytail to keep the majority of the pale grey smoke and it's stench from getting into her hair. Estella began to lose focus on the world around her as her mind wandered; she was nearing low on cash, and something would have to be done about that. The only thing worse than not having anything, was having to depend on other people for having anything.

Robbing a bank wouldn't be the worst idea, though it was far from ideal. She'd much rather steal from the Mafia, but where Estella knew where the Mafia operated in Los Angeles, New York City was a complete mystery to her. That meant hitting what she could find. And that meant banks. Go in at night, she figured, when there would only be a few guards on duty, even at the largest banks. And Estella only needed a few thousand. But to do it without killing a guard? That was harder than a smash and grab.

Maybe if I can get one of those kids to help me out?

The cigarette was tossed to the ground, and rubbed out under the rubber sole of her shoe, a second before Estella went back into the bar. This time she simply slipped behind the group of kids just as Charles was talking. She hadn't, in fact, met Logan...and from a quick glance she wasn't sure she wanted to, though there was something about the man that sang to her. The sound of steel, she realized, before just as quickly realizing it wasn't steel on this Logan fella. It was some other metal that Estella had never felt before, had never 'tasted.'

The very best part about Xavier's little hide out, to Estella, was that behind the bar was a coffee maker. It was an older model, big, bulky, made of steel; but at least it ran on electricity. When Charles left to chat with Metal Man, Erik began to address the group, Estella went behind the bar, fetching one of the coffee cops she'd cleaned the night before, pressing the little lever on the coffee maker to fill her cup with steaming hot coffee. The cup was white, cheap, nondescript. There was some sugar next to the coffee maker, meaning Estella only needed one last item to find.

Even as she began digging around the back of the bar, Estella caught a quick look at Erik, then the other students. She'd heard of Erik before. Oppenheimer had told her once that the Allies had hoped to use Erik in the Manhattan Project. But very quickly MI6 shot the idea down, claiming the mutant was too hard to trust. Estella was easier to trust, Oppenheimer had explained, because Estella didn't have a background in science. She was just a kid with an intuition and feel for the invisible forces of the universe that men like Oppenheimer and Enstein would love to have.

After finding what she was after, an Irish whiskey, Estella combined the sugar with the cup of coffee situated on the bar counter, and then added a few liberal touches of the whiskey to the drink. After a quick stir, and a very satisfying first sip, Estella placed the cup back on the bar and went for another cigarette. With a click the Zippo opened, the scratch of the lighter's thumbwheel sparking flame large enough to light the cigarette between her lips. The lighter was closed with a little snap of her wrist, and stuffed neatly into her right pocket.

"Rirakkusu."

If the short guy had any doubt who Estella spoke the word to, he'd know the moment he turned to follow the direction the Japanese word came from, and found Estella staring at him. She even smiled at him, in an attempt to ease his apprehension. After a long sip of her Irish coffee and a longer drag of the cigarette, Estella exhaled smoke, and moved her eyes to Erik, even as she responded to the girl dismissing 'basic needs.'

"The Jap's right. I've been downstairs. There's no place to stay, not that I'd want to sleep in a bunker. What happens if one us gets injured or ill? Is there a doctor Charles or you know that will tend to us without caring that we're mutants? Where do we sleep? Or is that up to us? I'll be fine, but it sounds like not everyone knows where their next sleep in a bed or warm meal would come from in that scenario. If leaders take care of their followers, I guess we're all curious to know that Charles and you have your shit together before we're willing to follow and take your 'help.'"

Her smile died in the shadow of her dark eyes as they stared at Erik, waiting, as she took another long drag of the cigarette.

Atticus watched the scene unfold before him with caution, as tensions rose even more. Another young man had entered, speaking light-heartedly with an English accent. He seemed like he had little idea what was really going on, but he seemed to register the gravity of the situation in far quicker order than the vapid woman in the red dress. Still, he seemed a little too at ease, overconfident, even. Probably a veteran who had made it through the war without a scratch, by some miracle. Having grown up entirely off the radar, Atticus had been completely passed over by the draft. In fact, if it weren't for his birth records, he wouldn't officially "exist" at all. Regardless, he had spent his whole life fighting, without the benefit of combat training or an officer to look out for him. He had been completely on his own since he was six. Well, not completely. But even with Katrina looking out for him, he had never really felt a sense of belonging anywhere. His hopes of finding that here were quickly deflating. All this tension was no way to start off any kind of relationship.

Atticus noticed something odd when the blond girl had stepped forward to speak. Rather than focusing on her, the man with the claws was eyeing him. Atticus met his gaze, feeling the unspoken connection, before the bigger man broke it by tearing his eyes away. Eventually, he answered her question, calling himself "Wolverine." He supposed it was fitting, considering the claws and the spiky hair. There was no way his mother had given him that name, though. Atticus used a moniker of sorts himself, to maintain anonymity among the criminal elements he had found himself associating with as of late. "I call myself Talon." he found himself saying. He supposed that would do until he got to know the others better; he didn't feel comfortable revealing his actual name yet. "Surely the rest of you have names as well."

Before anyone could answer, a pair of men, the younger one walking with a cane, the older appearing no more than 30, came up the stairs. Atticus recognized the one with the cane as Charles Xavier, the man who had told him about this institute the night he had broken into his house, intent on stealing from him. Charles asked "Wolverine" to follow him so they could speak privately, and the other man began giving a speech, waving his hand and causing coins to float on their own. He introduced himself as Erik, and confessed to lack Charles's telepathic abilities. Erik guessed that all of them were here because society had rejected them for being different. Atticus had never truly been part of society in the first place, but he felt the words nonetheless. He could see that even the immaculate blond and the charming newcomer were moved by the speech, and a short youth he hadn't noticed before came forward and spoke, demanding to know whether they would be receiving basic needs, such as shelter and food. Atticus remembered what it was like to want for those basic necessities, and his heart went out to the boy. His thoughts were arrested by the blond's condescending words as she scoffed at the new boy, proclaiming that she thought everyone was beyond such things.

Another new girl emerged from the lower level, and seemed to side with the boy, announcing that this building had little room to spare for those who needed shelter. She seemed as though she had been here for awhile, moving behind the bar and making herself a cup of coffee as if she owned the place, and she lit up a cigarette.

"That's a good point. I can't exactly go back to where I was living before this; I sort of left my previous employers in a hurry when Xavier told me about this gig. And they're not exactly the most forgiving people. I mean, I guess I can find a place nearby, but not all of us are members of the social elite." He shot a significant glance at the woman who had introduced herself as Kimberly, and a less harsh one at the blond. "And what about this poor kid? He looks like he's been living on the streets." He addressed the boy who had spoken up about this concern in the first place, looking around for support. "I mean, help with our... Differences is great, but some of us need help with a lot more than that."

The front door had once again opened wide and then shut, letting in a cool draft of the bitter wind that was starting to pick up outside. Both Logan and Yukiko's attention went to the man that had just enterd the room, both having completely different opinions about him.

Great...Another Clown

Damn he's cute...for an American

Though before Logan could make any sort of comeback, a voice that rang incredibly familiar in Yukiko's mind came from the stairs that let downwards that Logan knew as Charles Xavier. It wasn't until Charles was up and off of the stairwell and continued to speak did it occur to Yukiko just where she had heard that voice before.

It's him! I swear it's him! That voice led me straight to Logan! Curiosity peaked the young Asian girl as she looked Charles over, now noticing that he walked with a limp and aided with a cane. Perhaps he was a war veteran, or perhaps he just had bad luck. Whatever it was, she knew she needed to speak with him. With the help of Logan of course, as she wasn't too sure if this Charles Xavier knew any Japanese. Her attention then shifted to the man she had gathered was named Erik. Was it just her, or did Erik have some sort of...aura about him that just didn't fit well with the others?

Hearing Logan's name, both Yukiko and Logan turned back to Charles where Logan simply nodded towards him and looked to Yukiko. Like hell he was going to just leave her here with all these strangers, besides, he needed to talk to Charles about her anyway. He lifted his hand and wiggled two fingers, ushering for Yukiko to follow both him and Charles, however Charles seemed to have other plans.

She stays here Logan. She will need to hear what Erik has to say Xavier's mind reached out to Logan's, already knowing what his friend was thinking.
Charles' thoughts warranted a confused reaction reaching over Logan's face, his already defined forehead wrinkles deepening ever so slightly as his brow raised. No...this was just too coincidental. Yukiko couldn't be a mutant...not like the rest of them were. He had known her for years and not once had she gave him any reason to even think that she had the X gene. Charles' previous statement though continued to burn into Logan's mind, and not particularly wanting to, understood that Charles was right about this. He was always right; kind of annoying really.

She's not going to even understand what he's saying Charles Logan thought back, knowing it was best to keep this particular conversation somewhat private rather than argue about it in front of the others.

I will translate for her. It will require no effort on my part. Now come. It wasn't a request. He then changed his focus, to Yukiko. "Yukiko. My name is Charles Xavier, I have talked to you before this way. I'm going to use my abilities to help you understand what Erik is saying, as it is of utmost importance."

With an outward grunt of defeat, Logan turned back to Yukiko and then shook his head, indicating that she should stay here with the others, though Yukiko hadn't even noticed since Charles was once again in her head.

God this is weird...

"Chūi o harau kid." And with that Logan was off, following Charles upstairs where his office was located, keeping his ear on Erik as he began to speak to the kids downstairs and leaving a thick trail of cigar smoke behind him.

Yukiko was rather pleased to find that when the man introduced as Erik began to speak, she was able to understand him fluently, as if he were speaking her own language. But looking around the room with her bright brown eyes to the others she noticed that they too were understanding him so she knew it wasn't so. What an incredible man Charles Xavier was; she didn't know how this whole communication thing worked, so she was forced to push back her questions lest she miss something important that Erik was saying. Quietly, Yukiko moved from the back of the room towards the side where the barstools were located and took a seat, placing both of her hands on the leather material inbetween her legs and hunched forward slightly, hooking her feet underneath the bar that kept the the legs of the stool together.

Watching with a slight shiver creeping down her spine, the blinds had been shut by what seemed like a ghost; the room growing dark. Then upon the light coming on in the room, she like everyone else seemed both shocked and awe-inspired when the coins were lifted from the bar; especially since the coins had been literally just a few feet away from her. Erik spoke of being called names, none of which Yukiko had ever been called but by glancing around the room quickly, she gathered that some of the others had. Each individual in the room had their own story, their own experience of this...mutation that they all shared, the one element that seemingly brought them together. He then spoke of help...the very thing that Yukiko left her home and country for. She wasn't sure exactly what kind of help she was looking for, hell she hadn't even known that when she decided to leave, all she knew was that she didn't want to go through this alone.

Yukiko hadn't even have the slightest idea that she posessed a gift aside from stealth and assasinations. On the train coming to America with her mind already set of wanting a new future, it happened.

Sitting in the uncomfortably small seat of the train, Yukiko was half asleep with an empty paper cup in her right hand. It had been previously filled with water when the stuardess came by with the snack car for the hungry and thirsy passangers, but in Yukiko's mind the small cup of water just wasn't enough. Still feeling parched, she stared down the cup, wishing, willing, hoping that she could just make water re-appear so that she may drink it a second time. It was a simple wish, not like she was asking for a twenty dollar dinner. The tips of her fingers then began to tingle and for a second, Yukiko felt a slight trickle running through her wrist...like water. Snapping awake, she looked to her hand and then back to the cup. Nothing had changed, so had she been on the verge of hallucinating? Looking around the compartment at her other temporary companions, it was clear to see that they were asleep and had been for hours. Turning her attention back to the cup, she thought again.

"Water...simple...clear...my chemistry class taught me that it's only made up of three compounds; two hydrogen and an oxygen...The oxygen is already in the cup...it's all around me, so where do I get my hands on some hydrogen?"

Her thoughts made her laugh at herself softly, chemistry didn't work that way, she knew that. Suddenly though, the tingling feeling came back into her fingertips and again the soft trickle slipped through her forearm and into her wrist and then through each of her five fingers...and the cup was suddenly full.

Dropping the paper cup in surprise, the water splashed all over her lap, also splashing onto the gentleman sitting next to her forcing him awake in a rather grumpy mood. She couldn't hear his insults though, as her hand was trembling, her eyes wide and her heart pounding.

"Did I just make water?"

Yukiko's thoughts quickly jumped back to the present as she heard a boy speak; a boy that she was absolutely certain wasn't there before...how had she missed him? He was short, even shorter than her which she wasn't at all used to since she was ony 5'4" herself, average in Japan but 'fun sized' here in America. Though he seemed to have some Japanese in him as well, and for once she felt as though the fact that she now knew she wasn't the only Japanese person in America seemed to put her a little bit more at ease. She understood the basics of his question, the words she caught on to being 'food' and 'basic needs.' Her eyes widened a bit as she came to realize that she hadn't even thought of that. Now that she was in America, where was she going to stay? Surely a hotel wouldn't allow her to rent a room on her own, not even with the $50 Hazel had given her.

Then came the reply of the blonde that Logan had taken an interest in and couldn't help but to scowl just a tiny bit. She didn't need to know every word to know that she was putting the boy off just a bit, or maybe it was just her inner bias yanking on her mind that she was trouble for Logan.

Another girl spoke up, something that seemed to pierce Yukiko's very heart getting the adrenaline pumping throughout her entire tiny body. She had just spoken Japanese! Again Yukiko had to wonder just where the hell this person had come from. There was so much going on, so many thoughts in her head, so many emotions filling the room, that she hadn't seen the dark-haired girl coming up from downstairs. But pushing that aside she felt herself getting somewhat excited, was this girl fluent? She spoke English remarkably well, it would only be her luck that she had found another person to help her with her own English.

The boy that had previously called himself Talon then put in his own two cents into the conversation, and a small smile filtered across her lips as he seemed genuinly concerned about the boy just as she had been. She knew that there was something about him that she liked. Perhaps it was because upon first seeing him, he reminded her somewhat of a tamed-down Logan. She would be the first to admit anyday that when she first met Logan in Japan, a crush had formed, but as the two spent more and more time together, she realized that he was more of an older brother than anything else, and that was completely fine with her. Talon though, good looking, a warm heart...even if he was a little stupid to have brought out his claws on Logan, he was worth getting to know better after all of this was over.

Clearing her throat, Yukiko felt that it was just about damn time that she let her own voice be heard.

"Sumimasen" She winced immediately after the word escaped her lips. This whole Japanese to English thing was going to be very difficult.

"S-sorry." She bowed her head a bit respectfully towards Erik, as he was the one she was addressing. "I...I will...yes, your...help." Her words were slow coming, and the delivery was all wrong, and without Logan there to help she knew that she must have looked like a complete moron in front of them all. "Gomen nasai." She muttered, looking down again wishing that she just hadn't said anything at all.

She had to agree with the half-Japanese boy about the necissary things that one would need to stay alive, but the one thing she hadn't heard from a single person in the room was gratitude. These people, Charles, Erik, and somehow Logan...they all wanted to help. It shouldn't matter what kind of help, or if anything came with it, it was the intention that should have mattered, and Yukiko just wanted Erik to know that the notion was appreciated deeply.

jagajac said
"Honey, I think we're all past the point of 'basic needs'."

Henry smiled, another easy smile as the attractive blonde spoke, he moved closer into the bar, away from the exit, although while doing so, didn't responded further to the number of bodies around him, placing himself on the first bar stool he reached, Henry momentarily faced only the girl behind the bar, she'd just spoken Japanese, but that was evidently not her origin. As the smoke entered her lungs, 'Leech' could feel its affects taking root. He could have stopped himself, but he didn't, his own powers 'stealing' some of the affect, but also the curse. Maybe one day he'd tell people of the damage it could do them, but then, who'd ever believe him really?

"Hola, ojos fríos." His Spanish was awful, learned from decoding messages from Facist Spain, but he liked to think he could get his meaning across. As he momentarily dabbled in what he assumed, as an educated guess, was her primary tongue, he smirked, although this one was dangerous. A trickster, not a clown, and a joker could be any card.

"Hey, sweet cheeks, if you think you're above basic needs, well, someone's been letting you down." The near-laughing smirk was back as he turned on the stool to face the majority of the room once more, particularly the girl who's single line had stuck in his mind so. She was pretty, very much so, but if this was a room full of people like him, well, she could be highly dangerous as well. He bemoaned his own brain when that did little to kill any form of attraction. In fact, it probably made it worse. It had taken him a long time to get over a crushing fear of rejection in regards to women, and now his simple 'don't care how it goes' attitude practically required the wink he gave her, before focusing on Eric.

"Hmmm, you've shown me yours, does that mean I have to show you mine? That might get a little unpleasant for you all." Less light hearted, but still a jest. The idea still terrified Henry that at any moment a bullet could be put in his brain, and give a few minutes and he'd be right up again. That had been his limit so far, but he wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have one. The worst part was he felt it all, no reprieve for the Leech. Shaking his mind of such a serious thought, he continued to address the speaker. "Awfully convenient of the girl with her needs fulfilled, however badly, to think that they're not important. You want me to sell some medals? I'm sure then we can keep everyone dry for a while. That said, I'm sure we could sort something else out, that keeps us all fed, dry and watered."

After he finished speaking for the latest occasion, the smirk from his face dropped, his voice sounding far more business-like as he continued, "A very wise man once told me to never trust anyone who offers something for nothing. What I think we should be asking, is how are we going to help you? It's clear we're all willing, to some degree, to accept your help, we wouldn't be here, if someone's come all this way just to turn you down, they're both an idiot and lying to themselves. Xavier clearly has something we all want, be that fellow....'company' or whatever it is he's sold this to all of us." A very broad arm motion, motioning towards the whole bar, followed his statement, although it was clear he was including all those present, not just the surroundings, in the definition.

"You have us, now what do you want from us?"

Kimberly looks at the two men who just walked into the room. She wondered if they were here to help her or not. She still was worried about this pick, especially with "Talon" eyeing her in a not so come hither look. She wasn't a fan of nicknames herself but she did decide to be polite to everybody. "Hello, Wolverine I am Kimberly Sage. It is nice to meet you." She turned to the two men and smiled. "I am Kimberly, nice to meet you two. You must be Xavier and Erik right?"

Samuel had sat himself down on a table. He had already heard what Erik was saying, Charles explained it to him a couple weeks ago. Certainly, Charles wasn't as crude with the words as Erik was. But Erik's words had impact. He looked over each and everyone of them. The young man knew how to tell people from one another. None of them seemed.. Too out there. Certainly, a few of them did seem a bit out of place. The brash one from the south, standing behind the bar with the coffee, who's name Samuel had not heard certainly looked like she had been through a lot.

But then there was the upper-class elegant lady, Kimberly, Samuel heard her call herself, she didn't look like she'd belong here, either. But of course, they were all mutants. Samuel rose an eyebrow at the scrawny guy whom started asking for 'basic needs'. And soon everyone else caught on, well, except for the poor Japanese girl who spoke with broken English, Samuel being surprised that she understood what was going on. He rolled his eyes at the guys who introduced themselves as 'Talon' and 'Leach'.

Sam stood up. “I for one would like the help. Gonna be hard to stay hidden when I might take out a skyscraper by accident.” Samuel stated, wanting to lift the mood of the place. “ Oh, yeah. I'm Samuel, by the way.”

***

Erik looked around the room, as just about everyone had questions, but their questions were more or less the same. He let out a soft chuckle as they all seemed to worry about a roof and four-wall, along with food and water. “Not the response I expected. But it's good to see that you are all intelligent enough to cover all your bases. You'll be provided with a place to live, and food and water, your basic needs will be provided for. Charles will provide you with that. As for your question, Estella. I'm medically trained, and can help you with everything short of a heart transplantation.” Erik informed her.

Erik flipped the light switch, and snapped his fingers again, the blinders on the windows and doors opened, letting in the sunlight again. “Charles and Logan will be back down any minute. You'll be given a bit of time to talk with each other, grab something to drink or eat. There should be sandwiches in the fridge. Try to make friends. You'll be shown around the facility later.” Erik promised. Before he turned to Estella, whom was holding the drink in her hand. With a scoff, he looked at her. “ I'd advice you all to stay away from alcohol, even if you're an adult. Your abilities are difficult enough without complicating things further.” Erik said, grabbing a bottle of soda from the fridge behind him.

Once the pair entered the office, Logan shut the door and leaned his back against the aged wood, folding his arms across his chest once again, billowing out a few puffs of smoke using just his teeth as an experienced smoker would.

"So whats this about Charles?"

Charles looked up and down at Logan. “You mind not smoking, Logan?” Charles asked him, his voice calm, but the smoke made Charles's senses dull, and he didn't enjoy the smell of it.

"But this is about more serious matter than tobacco. They found another body...Another mutant, did you check the policeman's leads?" Charles asked the taller and buffed male.

Logan stared down Charles for a brief moment before pulling the cigar out of his mouth. Lifting his foot a bit, he then ground the end of the cigar into the bottom of his boot until it was completely out, then stuffed what remained of the cigar back into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. With both feet planted back on the ground, the news Charles brought forth made Logan close his eyes for a moment, bowing his head slightly. He had figured it had something to do about this, he just didn't want it to be.

"Another one...damn...that makes five in the last three months." Logan shook his head, his own little way of showing remorse and an indication of his own answer to Charles.
Charles nodded, also bowing his head, he thought, he grieved for the mutants who had lost their lives, as Charles felt a connection to everyone of his species, even if he had never been in contact with them. He looked up at Logan.

"No smell, just like the others? You have any leads to follow at all?" Charles asked Logan.

"There was nothing there Charles, I went by the precinct this morning like you asked. Short of forcing my way through the morgue there's nothing else I can do. The police aren't exactly cooperative with a non-badge..."

"I feared as such. How would someone be able to track down so many mutants in quick succession like that? I would sense another telepathic of my caliber." Charles pointed out, letting out a sigh. " But this all just makes our work here more important. To keep the younger ones safe. Both from themselves, and from the rest of the world." Charles noted.

"I understand you want to talk about Yukiko, correct?"

Logan looked at least somewhat thoughtful for a moment, as possibilities as to what was going on ran through his head. If there was another telepathic out there killing mutants, they were in trouble. And now that Yukiko was in America, he had all the more reason to worry.

"She belongs to the family I spent a few years with while I was in Japan." Logan said, as if that explained everything. Logan had spoken with Charles on a number of occasions on the subject of his dealings with the Yakuza. Not like he would be able to hide that kind of information from him anyway.

"Is....is she really a mutant too?"

Charles nodded. "Every indication points to that, yes. You probably can't sense it, since you're used to her scent, I'd imagine. But her powers haven't taken full fruit yet, unlike many of the others. But I am certain that she is one of us." Charles agreed. His voice was comforting, as he could sense that Logan worried about her.

Logan raised his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

"Poor kid. New country, half of Japan wants her dead, and now this..." He paused, trying to let Charles' words of comfort settle in before he returned his hand to his side, though he leaned on the door even more heavily.

"Yes. It will be rough on all of them. Though, even if it is not my preferred method, it is probably best not to tell them about the situation. Some of them have big enough troubles."

"I want her to stay with me at my place, unless you have other plans?"

Charles nodded.

"Yes. That's fine. I will provide everyone else with shelter and sustenance, should they want it. Just about every Hotel owner in this city owes me a favor. But Logan. You'll have to clean if she's going to live with you."

A slight smirk came to Logan's lips as Charles mention that the hotel owners owed him a favor.

"Charles you dog..." He teased, winking at his friend playfully. Of course he knew he didn't mean it like that, but Logan couldn't resist.

"We'd better get back down there, Erik isn't exactly the best babysitter." The duo shared a faint chuckle and headed back out of the office, coming down the stairs just as Erik finished talking and joined the others on the main floor.

As he stood alone in the dark cavern, all Kurt could see was fire and darkness. The flames danced around him, the shadows on the walls mimicking its movement as his bright yellow eyes darted everywhere. The place was odd, yet strangely Kurt found it familiar. He couldn’t have been here before though right? He certainly would have remembered it if he had. He headed forward, keen to investigate but that was when the laughter started. Loud and painful, like nails on a chalk board, it echoed throughout the room.

“Who…who are you?” Kurt managed, raising his hands into a feeble fighting stance.

The laughter ceased and all that could be heard the crackling of the fire once more, until a deep voice spoke. “Why Mr Wagner, have you already forgotten your dear master-“

BAMF!

The young boy’s eyes shot open as a bundle of demonic chaos appeared in the air above him and fell with a thud onto his chest. The German swore loudly as he swung tiredly to knock the creature away but before his arms even reached the thing, it was already gone, bounding off the bed on all fours. Kurt groaned in annoyance as he pulled the covers off himself and swung his leg round. Rising to his feet, he stretched with a yawn before giving himself a small scratch where the sun doesn’t shine. That was when his eyes gazed around the motel room he was staying in and spotted the clock.

10am.

“Für fickt willen” He swore loudly once more as he rubbed his eyes. He was late. Very late.

Moving quickly he rushed into the bathroom, almost tripping over another blue sleeping demon in the process, who was led snoring with an empty whiskey bottle in its arm. Kurt didn’t bother to complain about how the Bamfs had been stealing once again. Bad enough he had to deal with the indigo critters every hour of every day, now they had started stealing. What great pets!

He washed his face and hair using the water basin, not before having to removing another sleeping Bamf from it beforehand. After a quick combing he was done and dressing himself into a simple pair of slacks and a shirt, before making his way to the door. Pulling on his coat, the mutant looked at himself in the mirror, giving himself a low sigh. A monstrous face stared back at him, with bright yellow eyes and indigo skin, his pointed ears sticking out slightly from his hair. If only he was normal.

Making sure that his tail was tucked into his pants and his hood covered the majority of his face, Kurt gave the motel room one last look. Luckily all but two of the Bamfs were asleep. Maybe if he left now quickly he could be rid of them forever. Unfortunately that plan didn’t work. He was walking through the lobby when all of a sudden all twenty Bamfs appeared out of nowhere, leaving a thick scent of brimstone in their wake. Luckily Charles Xavier, Kurt’s new employer or instructor, had checked the teen into one of the only motels in New York where no one bothered to man the front desk meaning that he managed to sprint out the building before anyone could see him.

He crossed the street quickly, not wanting to raise attention to himself, which was especially hard when you were constantly being followed by an army of blue naked demons. Another stroke of luck was that the hotel happened to be just down the street from the warehouse/bar where Kurt was meant to be meeting the man. That meant in the time it took him to finally reach the building, he had only left one or two people running or shouting abuse. That was actually good for Kurt.

He was defiantly not expected there to be so many people in the bar when he entered. He shuffled in quietly and gazed around at the gathering calmly, not meaning to disturbed them, however that all ended when the Bamfs jumped through the door behind him, pushing the German to the floor, his hood falling from his head as he did so.

Snark could only move away slightly as the girl spoke about his struggles being fair irrelevant, his mind feeling confused for a moment before he simply looked away from her. He didn’t think he was past the point at all, he was very much still struggling with that point and still had no clue what was going on here to decide whether they were all past that too. He needed food, he needed shelter and they’d probably come searching for him if he ever disappeared from this group completely. He was in a confusing place right now; he didn’t know where he was going or what was happening next all because he wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. The man still confused him, the one who was gone as soon as he appeared and just what the hell was wrong with him if he was regarded as part of this group.

With his nerves picking up, he gasped a little when one of the other girls told him to relax, only in Japanese. Even when he was trying to not be Japanese he was still able to be pointed out of the crowd as one of them, something that definitely made him feel a little uncomfortable; he could understand Japanese, that wasn’t the problem, but rather recent history in the US hadn’t left the kindest impression on people of Japanese origin. Staring at the strange smoking woman, he let out a sigh and folded his arms close to his ribs. At least she was speaking up for his concerns, but that was just a minor step towards finding out just what was going on and what it actually meant to be called a ‘mutant’. He was still very confused, his mind simply lost rather than buzzing with thought in this massive maelstrom of worry and caution.

It seemed a lot of them had the same worries too, that was probably better than feeling alone in the subject. A good lot of them looked as if they had a reasonable means of existence; hopefully he hadn’t worked into some strange mafia cult by accident. Slowly moving his hand to his neck, he gave it a gentle rub before twitching a little as he was mentioned, narrowing his eyes a little as he was called out for being a street rat. He should had really spoken up about that, but for some reason he could only agree about his condition and standards of living when compared to the others who were so graceful to put up with his presence, not to mention he probably smelled really bad too.

With a little moment to contemplate as the seemingly pure Japanese spoke up finally, he merely gave her a quick look before away again, letting out a sigh as he tried to think about his standards of living and what might possibly happen if he was accepted into this group. At least he’d have people to speak to in Japanese, but that was if they ever wanted to talk to him. Speaking privately out of the cop’s ears had been something essential for him, but here it seemed to be a case of simply knowing it rather than speaking it out of convenience. Frowning a little, he slowly shook his head as he contemplated his existence in this place.

Feeling a little lost over all the strange things he was witnessing today, he let out a sigh before the man finally spoke up once more, his eyes immediately going straight to him in curiosity to what he would give them. It sounded like a lot to offer them simply because of some strange ability they all possibly had, but then again why was he here if he didn’t even know whether he had anything like that too. It could possibly be cool, he’d be able to fend off all the drunken idiots off the streets if he could toss around coins like that. Scratching his chin for a moment, he raised his head at the thought of eating, his stomach quickly feeling happier at the sound of that. Watching as the man went to the fridge himself, he quickly sprung over to it as if his life depended on it. He was going to get what he wanted first, nobody could possibly stop him, “Food, you say?” he gasped a little, as he shoved himself around Erik simply to get at the glorious food. Opening it very slightly, he made a grab for whatever sandwich he could, his mind not even paying a drop of attention to anything else or the fact that some blue weirdo just entered the building.

All Estella Rey could do in that moment, was chuckle. Did the white boy even realize what he was saying to her? She had to wonder. Big brown eyes blinked long, dark, lashes before moving from the English 'chap' to the embarrassed Japanese girl, Estella's words coming out in Japanese: "Don't worry, your English is way better than this guy's Spanish." Words spoken with hints of reassurance, and a certain hard hearted playfulness. 'This guy' accompanied with a jerk of her thumb in the direction of the 'chap' who had turned his back to Estella.

The girl who dismissed the necessity of basic needs unfurled another winner, a suggestion that they were the new 'social elite'--a suggestion that could only come from a privileged white girl who'd never seen the violent, dark, reach of ignorance and hatred first hand. Estella had, both as latina and 'freak.' And on that note, the Southern California girl reverted back to English, her eyes flasing a similar mischeviousness to the grin just barely visible on her lips, her left hand giving the English guy a tap on his back, her voice lowering just a touch, as if some private joke between them was being relayed, "Yeah, sweet cheeks. You better be careful."

Estella was still mid-grin when Erik addressed her by name. Quickly, her features lost any hint of amusement, defaulting to a cold, humorless disposition. "Great, Erik," the man's name exaggerated, spoken like it were a curse word, "A man both American and British governments warned me not to trust gets to be my doctor." Casual as a sip of Sunday tea, Estella took another drink of her Irish coffee, her lips reemerging after the sip with a faint smile of dim amusement at his 'advice.' "Don't worry, gringo. Not my first rodeo."

A statement punctuated with a flick of the cigarette in her right hand, grey-black ash floating to the ground, her eyes daggers at the man...until they flew to the opening of the bar door, and widened in surprise at the appearance of...little...devils? They could've been chupacabras for all Estella knew. For all she cared. Their appearance and physical take down of the strangest looking thing Estella had ever seen had startled her enough to bring about her default response to the surprise of violence: her own flash of violence.

Big brown eyes came alive with a near blinding electric white and blue glow, sheer force of will and muscle memory following instinct and intuition and training in the manipulation of electromagnetic forces. In particular, of electromagnetic discharge. She was floating three feet higher than she'd been on the ground in a blink, sparks flying from her suddenly raised, palm out, left hand; tiny tendrils of blue-white electricity forking their way from Estella's hand to the little blue chupacabra looking pendejos. A new found depth and charge to her voice as the sheer amount of power pulsating through her body carried it through the room like thunder.

"Get. Off. Him."

"Hey now...I am veeeeery proud of my Spanish." Henry turned his head back to Estella, as she had now been referred to, the smirk back across his features as he spoke. Her reaction was about as favorable as he could have hoped, taking his attempt at the language as a general insult would have been a worse case that he had half expected, what with the power of personality that radiated from the Mestizo. He turned back to the general scene in time for her whispered comment, to which he leaned back slightly, to reply;

"Don't you worry yourself, I've dealt with far worse, especially as Daddy's not around for her." At the same volume as Estella, it maintained the feel of a private joke, despite the two only having just met. Underlying in his comment was a sense of knowing the type, after all, he'd been friends with people in very high places, and met their daughters and sisters. They may have spoken differently, and had older names, but there wasn't any real difference between the two brands of Atlantic nobility. His smirk was cut short by the entrance of the blue...creatures, and Estella's reaction to it.

Energy crackled in the air, you didn't need to be the 'right kind' of mutant to feel that. His reaction displaced him from his seat, although he managed to catch himself from simply falling off, sliding in a manner which could almost be seen as deliberate, were it not for the look on his face as he beheld the latina become something akin to the wrath of God himself, were Henry to still believe in the divine. he suddenly felt very sorry for the smaller blue creatures, crowding atop the larger one. He stepped back from the scene, not out of personal survival instincts, he had very few of those left, but out of the risk of cross fire. If she turned him to dust in a mistimed strike, there was no telling how many people would die from his own powers, assuming he could even come back from that. He still couldn't take his eyes off the hovering woman however, drawn to the site like a fly to a light.

"There I was...thinking I'd never feel out of my league again."

Kimberly looked around as more people joined the room she was in. She felt like a fish out of water, being most likely the most well-off here. She looked around and realized that maybe she didn't belong here. However it was early in this experience she decided to talk more to some of the people. "Is there a tour that we can have around here?" She asked anybody in the room. "I would like to know what is in store for us." She decided against using her power as she was surrounded by people. She looked around to see if anybody actually agreed with her. She was clearly unnerved when a man literally teleported into view.

Logan let something that sounded like a growl come from the bottom of his throat as Kurt barged into the room rather clumsily but then his direction was brought towards the dark haired girl who thought it was appropriate to start showing off her powers.

"Enough!" Logan barked at her and then stomped over to Kurt to help him up (though it was more like dragging the poor kid to his feet). "Still no luck with them huh?" Logan brushed off the sides of Kurt's shoulders on his shirt, of course referring to the Bamfs. He hadn't met Kurt personally before, but he knew plenty about him to know just who he was since there were no secrets between himself, Erik and Charles. He gave the kid a light push to enter into the room a bit more to join in with the others and Logan followed behind him, eying the kid in the corner that started to wolf down the sandwiches. His attention then went back to the girl behind the counter, the one that undermined Erik's authority about drinking and scoffed.

"So you think you're good to go then huh? Then why bother showing up here? If you're so much better than everyone else here then maybe there isn't a place for you here after all." Logan kept his gaze on her, ignoring the somewhat pressing thoughts entering his mind from Charles. "So if you're going to just stand there and continue to ignore those that are trying to help you, I will throw you out of here personally, woman or not."

Logan then turned to the group, taking a moment to study each and every one of them closely as he slowly walked around the room, much like how a predator would size up his prey, his eyes continually darting over to the boy who introduced himself as Talon. Something about that kid...

"As for the rest of you..." Logan began, finally stopping to stand in between Kurt and Kimberly. He then quickly pointed to the ceiling. "Up there is the office. Charles, Erik and I are the only ones permitted up there." He then spread his arms out wide, gesturing to the room that they were in. "This is the bar, drink on your own time...not ours." Logan then took a couple steps, heading towards the staircase that led downstairs to the bunker. "This way." He ordered and then disappeared down the stairs.

Yukiko was the first to follow Logan, hopping off of her bar stool and quickly going after him. The American woman had talked to her in Japanese and she wasn't sure whether to be flattered, or annoyed. She still had some ill kept feelings towards this girl so she decided to say nothing to her for a reply.

Once down the stairs, the area opened up into a large, unfinished bunker. The floor was nothing but a solid slab of concrete and there were a few wooden beams posted up for structural needs, but aside from that and the single open light bulb that swung from the ceiling, there was nothing else there. Once in the center of the room, Logan quit walking and turned to face those who had followed him.

"Now you're more than welcome to go back upstairs and play those stupid 'get-to-know-you games..." Logan said and with a flick of a muscle in his hands, the blades once again shot out from in between his knuckles, the metal clanking sound echoing through the desolate area in a somewhat haunting fashion. "...or you can stay down here with me and show me what you got. I'm not about to insult you by wasting your time, so don't waste mine."

Estella felt her toes touch the ground first, followed half a heart beat later by the soles of her feet supported the weight of her body as she returned to the surface. It would take a moment for her eyes to return from full charge to dark brown. But when they did return, there was nothing resembling an emotion. Only a mechanical, near automated, processing of information as the shaggy one spoke to her.

The tone in her voice followed suit, as she responded after a few prolonged moments of catching her breath. "Alright," Was the only word Estella spoke, before walking out from behind the counter, and walking out of the bar, ensuring the door was shut behind her. At that point the only thing on her mind...was the quickest way to get back to Southern California. Grand Central was likely her best bet, and it was that direction she began to walk until she could find a cab, hands neatly folded into the front pockets of her jeans, a low whistled tune on her lips.

Atticus's glare softened when the blond put her hand on his shoulder, but when she made the comment about them being the new "social elite," he found himself becoming irate, but he decided to pull it back and let the feeling pass. It seemed like everyone in the room had just been winding themselves tighter with each passing word, and he wasn't about to contribute to what would likely erupt in a fight. So he placed a hand over the one she rested on his shoulder, and met her eyes, exchanging a look of understanding with her. He could tell she meant well, even if her words stung, and he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. At worst, she was just naive.

He became aware of eyes on him, and turned to see the Japanese girl sitting on the barstool smiling at him. She quickly hid it when she noticed him looking, but there was a coyness to her that hinted at something deeper. Maybe she saw him in a similar light to that "Wolverine" fellow, who she clearly admired. He sincerely hoped he never ended up like that. The older man had too much pain in his eyes. Atticus had been through some rough shit, but he'd bet that Wolverine wouldn't even sneeze if he told him that. So he shelved it for now, deciding to play it by ear and see how things went later. He barely even knew anyone's name. Another boy around his age had introduced himself as Samuel, and Erik had addressed the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl behind the counter as "Estella," but it seemed as though most of these people were as guarded as he was. Probably for the best. In Atticus's experience, those who presented themselves as trustworthy usually weren't.

Suddenly, another new boy literally fell through the doorway, and was promptly assailed by over a dozen blue... gremlins, or something. Atticus's instincts took over again, though he wasn't certain if it was due to the new boy or because Estella had just risen into the air, surrounded with crackling electricity. He'd have to be careful around her in the future if she was going to do that every time she got spooked. Atticus's claws came out again, and the ionized air prickled his skin, raising goosebumps all over. The blond brushed against him, and he instinctively pulled her to his side, grabbing her waist and moving her firmly but not suddenly. After he had placed himself between Estella and the blond, the dark haired girl descended and the electricity subsided. It was then that Atticus registered the blond's apology, and he allowed himself to relax again, claws sliding back into his hands. "No need to apologize." He didn't look her in the eyes this time, he was too focused on Wolverine reemerging.

Wolverine's gaze kept meeting Atticus's, as though he were trying to size the younger man up. Atticus met his gaze levelly, analyzing Wolverine the same way. When the older man told them all to follow him, Atticus obeyed quickly. As he walked, the blond turned to him and introduced herself, winking at him. Atticus grinned back, and looked at her, meeting her deep blue eyes with his electric green ones, simply responding, "Atticus Finch. We may as well see what these people have to offer. The big man may be tough, but I might have a few tricks up my sleeve." His eyes flashed as his grin broadened, looking for all the world like a schoolboy at a carnival. Atticus was finally excited about something. It had finally hit him that he may have at last found a home, and dysfunctional though it was already proving to be, a family.

In the moment of silence that followed Wolverine's tirade, and Estella's short, but poignant response, Henry simply watched her leave, before turning his face to regard Wolverine, a genuine look of surprise crossing his features. His mind attempted, and failed, to understand the chain of thought which had led to such a condescending attack on the latina. He for one, hadn't spent years fighting, both to live with his mutation, and literally, to be yelled down to. Xavier's dream had given him hope, but the reality seemed even more distant than the propaganda had made the war. While Estella had given them the benefit of a spoken word, Henry simply shook his head, before standing and heading out of the door, back into the cold front of New York city.

Once outside, he sped up slightly, watching the disappearing figure of Estella, although, with a burst of speed from himself, he was near enough to catch up. He still decided to yell, over the noise of the insomniac city;

"Hey, mestizo, heading anywhere in particular?" As he came up beside her, a more genuine smile than the one he had worn all day spread across his features, as if the events of the bar had never occurred and he was bumping into an old acquaintance. That said, he avoided his usual contact, at least normally a shoulder pat or so, despite his friendliness, he hadn't know her for long, and someone who could likely zap you into nothing, well you respected their personal space, just in case they had an issue with it. Having spoken, he slowed his pace alongside her's, waiting for her reply as he watched the road, whistling as a cab shot around the corner.

"Not that I don't respect your right as an independent soul, but let me at least pay for the cab." The smirk was back again, as he returned to his usual brand of humor, while she may have had a rather serious exit, she'd seemed to be fairly amusing prior to that, and so he wasn't afraid to be himself in that regard, even if they had both abandoned what had likely been a rather welcome hope for 'mutant' kind.

Kimberly nodded to Wolverine. She had no idea how to react to this, she was usually taught that not to get into fights. She did realize she could get some breathing room now that some people left. "So anybody up for some showing off?" She asked. "I assume you are Wolverine as you said to show you what we have." She said to him. "I can go first if you like." She was really nervous at this as she hasn't been this out of her comfort zone. Granted, she decided maybe her false pride could be channeled in false pride. Maybe it could off as leadership ability. All she knew was that she had to make a splash. She couldn't even win over her parents, she had to win over these strangers.

Snark’s moment had been spent stuffing his face with sandwiches while everyone else went on to either poke at the strange creatures, talk with each other or get angry and decide to leave. He was fair content with what he had managed to get and hadn’t gotten away with this much food in a long time without being caught or using stolen money. He didn’t understand why everyone else was not bothered by this free food, but that just meant there was more for him and so long as he could hold out this illusion that he actually knew whether he had any freakish abilities. There must had been something to him that the Xavier guy knew about, otherwise he wouldn’t had been the first face he’d see when arriving unknowingly in New York.

With the confusion settling in and his questionable existence coming to mind, he slowly got up again and looked around, giving the strange creatures a good staring at before he slowly but surely backed away from the fridge, staring at them intently before shaking his head and heading on after Logan. He surely couldn’t question those things after what he saw pop out of the guy’s hands and the coins floating around, that would definitely be moronic and all he’d look to be is dumb.

It was pretty worrying to think about it, really. Just why was he here? He was just planning on finding shelter from the New York Spring weather and ended up finding that strange guy and all these weird people. If there really wasn’t anything different about him and he was completely normal then he was going to be in big trouble; this guy didn’t mess around and if he was found to be wasting time then he was probably going to get torn apart. Somewhat dreading the very idea, he still followed on after Logan down into the strange bunker, the floor cold beneath his worn shoes as it ran up his body. It was certainly pretty eerie, who knew how many people had died down here because of this guy.

Wiping down his shirt a little, he looked to the girl who was the first to speak up to the man before frowning a little before he cleared his throat to try and grab attention before the girl would start, “Hmm sir, with the claws…” he spoke, eyeing them before, “You didn’t say what would happen if we can’t actually ‘show off’ what we can possibly do; would that count as wasting your time? What if it turns out there’s nothing at all? You know, just incase…”