Disclaimer: the usual. I don't own the source material. The OC is my own creation.
AN: I originally wrote this because the character of Rogue in the first two X-Men movies annoyed me. Enjoy!
A young woman named Sylvana strode through the woods of upstate New York. Here, she was not likely to encounter anyone, which was beyond merely good. This way, no one would shun her or discriminate against her. Why would anyone do that, you may ask. Sylvana was a mutant.
Sylvana looked up at the sun-kissed leaves overhead. She smiled and walked on.
However, she stropped abruptly a little farther on. She sensed people, maybe a hundred in all. Granted, they were not close by, but she referred not to meet them.
But wait…these people felt different. They were mutants! And one of them was different from the rest of them. He had mental powers rather than physical.
"Hello," a voice said suddenly in her mind.
"Who are you?" she asked immediately.
"My name is Professor Charles Xavier," he said. His voice in her mind was almost soothing.
"You run a mutant school," she said bluntly.
"Have you heard of it?" he asked, surprised.
"No. You call yourself a Professor, and there is a large mass of mutants near you," she explained.
"You are a mutant, also," he said bluntly, reminding her of the fact.
"Yes," she said, hoping he would not shun her as well.
"You may stay here, if you wish," he said gently.
"I would not wish to impose," she said quietly.
"It is fine. There is plenty of room here should you wish to stay," he said.
"I would like to see your facility first," she said.
"Alright," he answered, "Would you like me to send someone for you?"
"No," she said, "I have ESP."
"As you wish," he returned. She could feel him leave her mind after saying that.
Sylvana turned and strode purposefully in her new direction, content to walk the three miles to the school.
Back at the Institute, a mutant with a visor covering his eyes sat grading papers from one of his classes. His name was Scott, a.k.a. Cyclops.
Quite suddenly, the Professor spoke in his mind saying, "Scott, a woman will be arriving within an hour. Please bring her to my office." Just as suddenly, he could tell the Professor had left his mind.
Sure enough, fifty minutes later a young woman, no more than 22 years old, walked up to the gate of the Instutute. Scott stood from where he had been sitting against the wall.
Without seeing or hearing him, she said, "Hello. I assume the Professor sent you."
He shook off his uneasiness that she could sense him and said, "Yes. My name is Scott. I'm a teacher here."
"There's something different about you," she said, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes.
This was the first good look Scott got of her. Her long, dark, auburn hair was braided. Her eyes were a piercing purple, unlike anything he had ever seen. Her skin was smooth and pure white, paler than even a corpse. She was very slender and shorter than he had realized. She could not be more than five feet tall. Her fingers were short but slender, and her ears tapered to slight points. Overall, she was the oddest yet most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He did not realize that several seconds had passed until she said, "You know how to fight. You often do. You shoot lasers out of your eyes, but you have no control over it, hence the visor. You're more than just a teacher here. People look up to you…You recently lost someone you care about, no…love."
Scott shook off the sadness of thinking about Jean. "Are you telepathic?" he asked her.
"No. I am simply good at reading people," she said, turning toward the gate.
Scott was now thoroughly disconcerted. However, he opened the gate and led her inside.
"Why do you have purple eyes?" he blurted suddenly.
She turned to look at him for a second, divining his purpose in asking the question. Slowly, she answered, "I have lived among humans for much of my life. I wear blue contacts so that I stick out less."
"Why blue contacts?" he continued, not sure what she meant.
"My eyes are red," she said bluntly.
"No one will hold that against you here," Scott said reassuringly, patting her arm for a second.
Scott stopped outside a door, the door to Xavier's office, and let her go inside alone.
Sylvana turned as she walked into the office. A bald man in his forties or fifties sat behind the desk in a wheelchair. Her face showed no surprise, for she would not discriminate against someone like she had been.
"Professor Xavier?" she asked.
The man looked up and smiled when he saw her. "Yes, my dear, and what is your name?"
"Sylvana Mezzanotte," she answered.
"Pleased to meet you, Sylvana. Please, sit," he said kindly.
She sat in the chair across from him before saying, "So this is your school."
"Yes…Forgive me for asking, but how far are you in your schooling?"
"I was kicked out from my second year at Harvard because I was a mutant," she said bitterly. A bad taste came into her mouth with that memory.
"What did you study?" he asked, very curious.
"Music," she said promptly.
"What instrument?" he asked.
"I can play piano, violin, trumpet, clarinet, flute, oboe, cello, organ, vocal, viola, trombone, and tuba," she said, ticking them off on her fingers as she listed them.
"That is quite impressive," he said honestly, stunned that she could play so many instruments.
She smiled sadly and said, "Thank you." She closed her eyes for a second before opening them to look straight at the professor. "All of my instruments are still on hold in the Music Department back at Harvard," she said.
"I'll have them shipped here," he said, seriously hoping she decided to stay. Perhaps this gesture of good will can convince her.
"You don't have to do that," she said quickly, not wanting to be a nuisance.
"It isn't a problem, Sylvana. You'll find we have more than enough resources for a simple thing such as this," the Professor answered her.
"Alright," she said softly, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Sylvana. Ororo will show you where you can stay," the Professor said just before the door opened and a white-haired woman walked in.
The woman smiled at the newcomer and said kindly, "Hello. My name is Ororo, but most people call me Storm."
"My name is Sylvana," she answered.
"Follow me," she said, walking out of the office.