8:00 a.m. | Salem Center, Worchester County, New YorkCharles Xavier always felt a sense of satisfaction at the sound of chalk moving across a blackboard. Every stroke invigorated him like a shot of dopamine, and he found himself turning away from the board with a content grin on his aging face. "Genosha," the professor stated, tapping the name he'd just written in large, bold letters. "Does anyone know who first founded it?"
His question road like a wave across the makeshift classroom, which was little more than a sitting room with the chairs all turned to face forwards and a blackboard rolled in front of it all. Bobby Drake had made sure to occupy the furthest seat from the board, the hood of his jacket drawn down
juuust far enough to hide his eyes as he tried to catch up on missing sleep. Movie night with Kurt had run a couple of hours too late. How was Drake supposed to know the marathon lasted that long? He regretted not checking the clock or something, 'cause being reminded by the sun coming up hadn't been very fun.
Kurt, to his credit, hadn't quite passed out yet. His head was resting in his palm, his three fingers running through the blueish fur on his cheek. His eyelids kept trying to clamp shut every few minutes, only for Wagner to lurch awake in a violent and distracting display that would keep him lucid for a couple of minutes before it all repeated again. If he ever tried to answer any questions it came out in unintelligible German.
Two pencils went soaring through the air like a pair of shurikens, one striking Kurt in the forehead and the second bouncing off of Bobby's nose. Both boys were thrown wide awake by the sudden attack, with Bobby nearly leaping out of his chair in surprise and Kurt vanishing and reappearing right back in his seat in a puff of black smoke. They shared a confused glance with one another seconds before realizing where the attack had come from, their heads turning simultaneously to glare in the direction of Scott Summers.
Scott crinkled his nose incredulously at them- even with his eyes hidden behind his crimson visor it wasn't hard to tell he was glaring. Sweat glistened off of the young man's forehead, still clinging to him after his long and exhaustive morning run. After making sure the two troublemakers were thoroughly and silently accosted for sleeping through the lesson he returned to looking in Xavier's direction, unable to muster an answer to the question. This was the first time they'd broached the subject of Genosha, and Scott wasn't too confident he'd be able to even point it out on a map.
The Professor pursed his lips, his eyes slipping between the three of his students as he seemed to contemplate how to deal with the brief interruption. The look lingered on Scott, giving the team's leader his own look of quiet admonishment before Xavier shifted his attention fully back to the lesson at hand. "Anyone?" Charles asked with a raised brow, "Hank?"
It wasn't until he heard his name that Hank McCoy even seemed to notice there was something going on around him. His pencil was rapidly shortening as he ran the tip of the graphite against his notebook full of crazy ideas and half-finished schematics. The current drawing before him was a series of functional upgrades to the team's costumes. Their current suits, aside from being a little tacky, didn't have any kind of temperature control, built-in communications, armor or other crucial parts to any superhero uniform. Hank blinked, pushing his nose up his glasses as he looked up to the Professor and then at the blackboard. "I'm sorry, uh, could you repeat the question?"
"He asked who founded Genosha," Jean Grey cut in before Charles got a chance, speaking in a very matter-of-fact tone as she looked down at her notes, "and you're gonna say the British first declared the colony in 1901, but there was
actually activity from various colonial powers going as far back as the 16th century. And..." She stuck her tongue into her cheek, her brows furrowing a little. "Something about making the suits out of a carbon fiber mesh?" Jean leaned over from her seat and attempted to get a look at whatever it was Hank had been doodling on his notebook. "-Are you making us new costumes?" She asked curiously.
"Hey!" Hank practically tore the book off his lap and slapped it up against his sprawling chest. "No mind reading!" He huffed, clearly caught off guard at having his thoughts so casually spoken aloud for everyone to hear.
Bobby was out of his seat and leaning over the back of McCoy's chair as quick as the word 'costumes' had left Jean's mouth. He grabbed both of Hank's shoulders and attempted to drag himself up high enough to see the notebook in his big friend's hands. "We're getting new costumes?!" He inquired with an energetic excitement that had seemingly spawned from thin air. Kurt shared his enthusiasm, popping up on Hank's opposite shoulder in a puff of dark smoke and trying to leer down at the page. Hank didn't take well to the intrusion, trying to buck the duo off and keep the sketches hidden against his chest at the same time.
Jean's face grew beet red the instant she realized what she had done. "I- I didn't- I mean, it wasn't on purpose-" She stumbled and stuttered, retreating behind her red locks as she bent her head low in shame at her actions. Reading minds came to her as easily as actual hearing did. It was hard for her to decipher what were thoughts and what were words, and sometimes it all got so jumbled that she got her own thoughts mixed up with someone else's. "I'm sorry." She muttered.
Hank, still busy wrestling Bobby and Kurt into submission, paused long enough to listen and reply. "Its okay." He assured her. "I'm not- hey!" He started, only to be interrupted by Kurt slipping underneath one of his arms and getting a hold of the notebook.
Nightcrawler slipped right away from the beast of a man's grip, vanishing out of the classroom and appearing in the hallway. He held the picture up in the light, a bright grin spreading across his face. "I look
awesome!" He laughed.
"Lemme see!" Drake whined, jumping over chairs and racing over to catch up to Wagner. "When do I get to wear mine?!"
Hank, hot on Bobby's heels and having completely forgotten what he was going to say to Jean, was quick to shout after them. "Its just a drawing! We aren't even in the prototype phase!"
The lesson thoroughly disrupted and Jean left in her silent shame, Charles let out a quiet sigh.
Kids, he thought with a shake of his head. No matter what kind of amazing gifts they might have, it was hard to forget that these five were still all children at heart. He placed the chalk back down on the tray and moved his hands onto the wheels of his chair, planning to go to miss Grey, as he had many times before. But he paused, not all that surprised to see that Summers had already moved to her side. He had a hand around her shoulder and he was trying to say something that might've been vaguely wise had the boy any idea how to say it. It brought a smile to Charles's face.
"Come on back, my students, there'll be plenty of time for that later! Our lesson's only just begun." Xavier called out to the wrestling trio in the hallway. They all seemed to look at each other and hold and a wordless conversation for a few seconds before deciding to call a ceasefire and return back to their seats. They spent a little while putting everything back where it was before and getting themselves seated, but their attention was eventually given back to the professor. Even if they bickered, fought or messed up in some fashion, they always seemed to land back on their feet. Always seemed to orientate themselves to point north again, even if it did take a bit of time. Charles let his hands come to rest on his lap as he waited a moment, making sure everyone was ready before he continued. "So, as Jean said, Genosha
was founded in..."