Arkin looked out the window as they approached the front gates to the place he would call home for the next year of his life. If he squinted, he could just make out the mansion. It looked both austere and lavish amongst what felt like miles of open grassland, and beyond that, trees. As they drove closer, the details of the building grew clearer. It was impressively massive, and everything appeared extremely well kept; finer than anything he was used. He grew uncomfortable, fearing that if the place was swarming with house cleaners and the like, he wouldn't last a week. He wondered, willing the nervous beating of his heart to a normal rhythm, how many people it housed, and if something this big could ever really feel like a home, and not a fragile museum where things were on display.
The vehicle stopped, and once outside, Arkin took a moment to admire the institute up close while the driver got out his luggage from the trunk. He wondered in passing how long it had taken to build such a place, and if the owner had anything to do with the design. When the driver handed him his bags, he thanked him and, breathing in deeply, carried his suitcases up the stairs and through the entrance.
His first impression was that his fears had been right. The first thing he saw was an elaborate red and gold carpet, a grand staircase that split off to two sides; two fine marble statue on either side. There didn't appear to be anyone to greet him, and so, after several moments of waiting, he set his luggage upright and began quietly to explore...It didn't look lived in. In fact, despite being extremely beautiful, everything seemed rather dark, and gloomy, like something he would expect to see in a ghost film. The ceiling, along with the lit candles in candleholders on the walls made him feel as though he were in a cathedral. He half expected to see an assembly of hooded monks to stroll by, swinging rosaries in hand.
"You must be Arkin Goode," a man said. However, Arkin did not stir. He continued exploring, looking cautiously down a long hallway. After several seconds, he suddenly spun around, a bewildered gaze settling on the Professor.
"How did you do that?" Arkin demanded, startled.
"I can communicate telepathically," the man responded. He was a stern-looking man with severe brows but kind eyes. He did not walk as other men, as he was confined to a wheelchair.
"You were the one who contacted my parents," Arkin realized, giving him a once-over. He signed as he spoke.
"Correct, " he answered, this time verbally. He smiled gently, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "And you can read lips extremely well. My name is Charles Xavier. I am the headmaster here."
"So I gathered."
Again, the man smiled. "If you'll follow me, I will show you around. You can leave your bags for now. Do tell me if I'm speaking too fast, won't you?"
"Sure," he murmured, walking alongside the Professor down a hallway.
It was even bigger than he imagined. The Professor showed to him two elaborate studies, one full to bursting with books, the other with a fireplace. For such a huge place, he expected more of a chill, but in reality, the mansion was very comfortable. The more the Professor showed him, the more he saw the signs of life, ranging from Science books on the sofa, to half-empty soda cans on the kitchen counter.
"Where is everyone?"
"Now, you'll meet the others once they've returned from school. I thought it might be best to fill you in, and let you explore on your own first. You'll start classes with them Monday morning."
That was a relief. When it came to meeting new people, he never really did give a good first impression. Everyone said he was either too quite, or tried too hard to show off in front of the girls. He was about to ask about the school itself when a beautiful, dark-skinned woman appeared. She had brilliant, flowing white hair, a rich green pantsuit and a thick, colorful headband. She also had dark purple-ish eyes, which Arkin thought were also unusual, and big gold hoop earrings in each ear.
"Ah, Ororo." The professor gestured to her and she came up behind him, resting her hands on his chair. Arkin frowned, and watched the Professors lips even harder. He also quickly and discreetly tried to finger spell all the possibilities of her name, since he had never heard it before. "She is one of the instructors here at the institute."
She smiled the same kindly smile the Professor had, and offered her hand. "It's nice to meet you. If Ororo is too hard for you," she told him, clumsily spelling out O-R-O-R-O, "you can call me Storm."
"Yeah, thanks. I knew I wasn't going to get it right." She laughed heartily at his relief, and though he could not hear her laugh, he thought it was nice. He decided he liked her. "Storm. Is that a codename, or something?"
"Yes, we all have them. The longer you're around, and the faster you advance in your training, the sooner—"
Just then, a thunderous rumble shook the mansion.
"Did you guys feel that?!" Arkin exclaimed, wondering what on Earth could have caused it. It couldn't have been an earthquake, could it? And why did he seem to be the only one freaking out about it? He stared at them wide-eyed, hands in tight fists, waiting for some sort of explanation. Maybe they were hearing something he couldn't.
After the rumbling died down, the Professor sighed and righted himself in his chair. "That would be Logan, another instructor here. You'll meet him later. Storm, would you…?"
"Of course, Professor." She nodded once to Arkin and briskly walked off, her long white hair bouncing behind her.
"Wait, one guy caused that? What did he do, blow something up? Is there a firing and bomb range in the back?"
The Professor waved a hand to get his attention. "It's a bit complicated, unless I explain everything else first. Follow me to my study, and I will tell you all about this place, the people who live here, and what we stand for."