Monica and Scott - December 5

[ax_photon]

Monica has a few questions for Scott about this whole mansion/school deal.


There he was, exactly as advertised: nice looking white kid with brown hair and red goggles. Considering he'd quite obviously come back from a run, it didn't really seem like the best time to ambush him with questions, but Monica needed answers and she'd been gently pushed in his direction by more than one student who didn't have the time to help. They really did need someone in charge of orientation for new students. This was supposed to be some sort of fancy private school; such a thing should have been a no-brainer.

Regardless, there was a guy to talk to. Monica walked up to him and stuck out a hand. "Hi! Scott Summers, right? I'm Monica. I was told to come see you."

Scott's eyebrows rose. "I can't imagine why. But hi, Monica, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. I suspect people here have immense respect for your ability to help out a newbie, or they were just tired of my questions and decided to get rid of me by sending me out the front door to go hunt you down." She smiled, wide and bright. Might as well soften the ambush with some humour.

Scott shook her hand, and then shrugged. "Probably neither. I was the first student here, so people tend to assume I know more than I do. So, when did you get here?"

"The day before yesterday, and I've been semi-confused ever since." Monica grinned. "This school isn't anything like what I'd expected."

"That just begs the question of what you expected," Scot pointed out, smirking.

"Maybe uniforms, classrooms with handsome teachers giving inspirational lessons... Obviously, my ideas of private schools have been mostly shaped by Hollywood"

"Ms. Frost is more likely to make me think I'm Snoopy and make me do the happy dance than she is to give me an inspirational speech of some kind, I'm pretty sure," Scott said dryly "And luckily, no uniforms. I think the rich kids would be in open rebellion, and they can afford private armies, I'm pretty sure."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Rich kids, that's the one thing I didn't expect, but probably should have, this being a fancy private school and all."

Scott shrugged, "Most of them seem okay, so far, for what it's worth. Which is something I never thought I'd say about Worthington, but here we are."

"Of course, Warren Worthington." She'd been glued to the news the day he and the others came out. She wasn't sure what good it had done generally, but sitting in front of the tv watching their press conference had given her some hope about her own recently discovered status as a mutant. That he was here was a surprise, but it made sense.

"My roommate," Scott said, by way of explanation.

"Wow. I'm not sure if I'd want to be in your shoes or not. So that line they sold the press about being in New York... Not true?" And thank goodness they'd manage to sell it. Monica hadn't asked for her powers in the first place, and certainly didn't want to be outed as a mutant herself.

"Not true," Scott agreed. "But they're being careful."

Something, he suspected, all of them appreciated. "Anyway, you said you had questions?"
Monica nodded. "A few. First, I'd like access to a range and an indoor pool, but the school doesn't have those?"

"It does, believe it or not. The range is newer, though, so I'm not surprised if someone didn't realize it was there," Scott said. "Why, you like shooting?"

"Not especially, but I'm a good shot and I'd like to stay in practice." Nevermind that she could shoot beams of energy from her hands. A little bit of stubborn denial was a healthy thing, right?

"Got it. Well, it's there if you need it. Is your mutation projectile based or anything?" He asked. "Because I'd recommend against using it for that, but there's another gym just for powers training."

And there was her next question. "And it's safe for, um, throwing energy around? Like electricity, gamma rays, microwaves... that sort of thing?"

"If I haven't managed to break it yet, not to mention some of our classmates, I'm not entirely sure anything can break it," Scott promised her. "Why, what do you do?"

"Electricity, gamma radiation, microwaves... " Monica grinned. "I basically channel different kinds of radiation or energy and then... shoot it at things? I'm not exactly sure how it works or what all I can do with it yet; that's part of why I'm here I guess. Oh, I fly too."

Scott looked intrigued. "It lets you fly?" That was interesting. He only knew a few other energy converters, including himself, but he didn't think any of them could fly. That seemed unfair. He got the death gaze, but she got to fly? He really needed to have a word with whoever was giving out these X-gene things. "Impressive."

"Convert was probably the wrong word. I think it's closer to, um, becoming energy? I'm sort of lost on the mechanics of it all. I was hoping the school would be able to help me figure this out."

"Well, you're in luck there. I don't know that there's anyone with better connections to experts on the mutant phenomenon than the Professor," Scott said. Between Dr. MacTaggert and her protege, Simon Tam, he doubted there was anywhere with better mutant health information. "You could go talk to Tam, uh, Simon. He's a student whose mutation involves some ability to read your biology."

"Amazing." Monica still wasn't happy with how her mutation had derailed life plans, but at least this school seemed to be well equipped to help her with her new challenges. "And I think that answers my last question."

"So was I everything you were promised?" He asked dryly.

"Oh, everything and so much more, but that's true of this whole place, isn't it?"

Scott chuckled a little. "You won't hear me disputing that, no. So how're you settling in?"

"Well enough. It's not quite what I expected, but I'm getting used to it. Everyone I've met has seemed pretty welcoming, present company included, so I think it would be hard for me to come here and not do okay." There was lots more to discover, like how to re-adjust goals she'd held for a long time, but at least the environment seemed supportive of that.

"Good. Glad to hear it. If you need anything," he shrugged, "well, you know where to find me."

"Right, in the foyer apparently. I'll keep that in mind whenever I need to talk to you." She smiled to take the edge oft. "See you around then?"

"Right in the foyer," he agreed dryly. "See you around."