Atticus watched as Alison began comforting the boy, who had called himself Snark. Something struck him as odd about him. Clearly the boy had lived on the streets for some time, but he lacked any of the hardness most people he knew had after living like he had for awhile. He seemed withdrawn, which was typical, but he also seemed shy and uncertain. On the streets, indecisiveness could mean the difference between life and death. Atticus was reminded of a stray kitten. But there were occasional glimmers of a fierce streak, buried somewhere deep, as though he didn't even realize he had one.
Wolverine's first volunteer after he called for a demonstration was the broad in the evening dress, but it was not to be. He called Snark forward instead, and when the boy couldn't call upon whatever power he might have, the big man softened, crouching down so he was eye level with the boy, and spoke genuine words of encouragement. Atticus suspected this was a side of the man he rarely showed, and that made it seem all the more authentic. He doubted any of the others would receive that kind of sympathy. After this, Xavier asked Snark if he'd like to talk to him further, and Snark agreed.
Another boy stepped forward, more confident this time. He removed his jacket and his shoes, and dashed forward, becoming a blue blur as he moved faster than even Atticus's keen eyes could follow. He rebounded off the far wall and returned, skidding to a halt a few feet from the far wall. Clearly this boy had been practicing. Atticus's power may not be as flashy, but that tended to be an advantage as far as he was concerned. Logan offered to buy the girl in the red dress lunch if she could top that performance. She stepped forward, smiling confidently, almost smugly, and shrieked. All the glass in the room shattered, and she rattled off all the objects and people that were upstairs. Wait... People? That meant they would be meeting some newcomers soon, and given that the door had been locked, Atticus wasn't sure they would be friendly.
However, he stepped forward to take the next turn, removing his coat and slinging it over a chair, his newsboy cap following suit shortly after. He also took of his glasses, to avoid damaging them, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, then reaching back and loosening the belt on the back of his suit vest. The clothes made him look respectable, but they constricted his movement more often than not. Atticus crouched, almost squatting, and looked up, selecting a rafter. After lowering himself a few more inches, he uncoiled rapidly, overdeveloped leg muscles propelling him upward like a rocket. His claws came out reflexively, and he grabbed onto the rafter briefly, then used the momentum of his jump to swing forward to grab the next one. Because his bones were lighter, he had less to worry about from inertia or drag, and he swung himself to several more rafters before finally dropping from the ceiling, a good 20 feet, and landing in a similar crouch to his takeoff position. He sprang forward, somersaulting in the air twice before sticking the landing next to the chair he had left his coat and hat on, his gaze lingering for a second or two on the doorway in case their visitors had made their way down yet. As he turned back to face Wolverine, his eyes met Alison's briefly, issuing her a playful challenge.
"Well, I hope that was up to your standards." His words to the large man were direct, unfettered by sarcasm. Secretly hoping he had impressed the older mutant, Atticus reached down to pick up his glasses and noticed they were missing. Eyes darting around the room, he finally found them in the possession of one of the naked, blue... things that had arrived with the blue skinned boy. He pounced, but the thing disappeared in a puff of smoke just as his hand was closing around the glasses. He rounded on the blue boy, brows knitted in anger as he bore down on the hapless teleporter. "You tell your little blue demon thing to give those back."