If I owned it, would I be writing fanfiction? Nope. And would it be readily
available to minors? Not without a fake id. And would I have a broken
heater? Heck no.
There shall be slight slash. Okay, major slash.
The young man stood outside of the large mansion, covered almost entirely by cloth. 'Okay. It's time, David. These people can help you.' He thought to himself, mustering up enough strength to knock on the door of the Xavier institute for gifted youngsters.
*FLASHBACK*
"I know what you are. What you can do." David's doubts resurfaced at these words, from the stoic brunette in ruby-quartz glasses.
"What can I do then, shades?"
"You don't feel. At least not other people. When you make contact, there's nothing. And I know what you do to them. How you make them feel." David's emerald-green eyes widened in shock.
"H-how? How do you know?"
"As I told you before, I was sent by the owner of the Xavier school for gifted youngsters. Mutants like yourself. He has a machine that senses mutants, and it tells him about them."
The sixteen year old Australian brushed his blonde hair from his face. "So, what do you do?"
"Pardon?"
"You must be a mutant if you're part of this school, shades. What do you do?"
"I.fire blasts of energy from each eye. I can't control it, hence the glasses."
"Oh. I wish I could do something cool like that."
Scott chuckled slightly at that comment. "Well, you never know how your powers will develop in the future. And besides, count yourself lucky that you can see colors other than red."
*END FLASHBACK*
It had taken nearly five months to convince his parents to let him come to the school, and the Cassandra Nova business hadn't helped any.
He knocked on the door, slightly hesitantly.
An attractive woman named Emma Frost answered the door. "Yes?" She inquired in a British accent. "May I help you?"
"Uh.I'm here to.I came to be.I."
"You're a new student?"
"Yes. Well, I was hoping to be. I was invited months ago, and I was kind of hoping the offer was still open."
"Sure. Most of the students are either in class or studying right now, but why don't we get you up to Charles' office."
"Welcome to the school, Mister Gibbs. Your dorm room is on your itinerary. You can meet your roommate later today, when he gets back from class. You should like him. You will be expected in your history class this Monday. Emma, please give him the official tour."
The young man stood outside of the large mansion, covered almost entirely by cloth. 'Okay. It's time, David. These people can help you.' He thought to himself, mustering up enough strength to knock on the door of the Xavier institute for gifted youngsters.
*FLASHBACK*
"I know what you are. What you can do." David's doubts resurfaced at these words, from the stoic brunette in ruby-quartz glasses.
"What can I do then, shades?"
"You don't feel. At least not other people. When you make contact, there's nothing. And I know what you do to them. How you make them feel." David's emerald-green eyes widened in shock.
"H-how? How do you know?"
"As I told you before, I was sent by the owner of the Xavier school for gifted youngsters. Mutants like yourself. He has a machine that senses mutants, and it tells him about them."
The sixteen year old Australian brushed his blonde hair from his face. "So, what do you do?"
"Pardon?"
"You must be a mutant if you're part of this school, shades. What do you do?"
"I.fire blasts of energy from each eye. I can't control it, hence the glasses."
"Oh. I wish I could do something cool like that."
Scott chuckled slightly at that comment. "Well, you never know how your powers will develop in the future. And besides, count yourself lucky that you can see colors other than red."
*END FLASHBACK*
It had taken nearly five months to convince his parents to let him come to the school, and the Cassandra Nova business hadn't helped any.
He knocked on the door, slightly hesitantly.
An attractive woman named Emma Frost answered the door. "Yes?" She inquired in a British accent. "May I help you?"
"Uh.I'm here to.I came to be.I."
"You're a new student?"
"Yes. Well, I was hoping to be. I was invited months ago, and I was kind of hoping the offer was still open."
"Sure. Most of the students are either in class or studying right now, but why don't we get you up to Charles' office."
"Welcome to the school, Mister Gibbs. Your dorm room is on your itinerary. You can meet your roommate later today, when he gets back from class. You should like him. You will be expected in your history class this Monday. Emma, please give him the official tour."