Disclaimer: The X-Men still belong to Marvel. I am not making any profit from this page.

Warning: Mentions of Justin Bieber.

The views and opinions expressed in the story content do not correlate with the views and opinions of Artemis's Liege.


The heavy door clicked shut behind the rather strange girl, and for a moment, the three adults in the room merely stared after her, nonplussed, the insincere question she had voiced hanging in the air, almost tangible.

"What a charming young woman," Emma Frost said, strolling over to the window and raising a sardonic eyebrow at the flowered scenery outside. "Tell me, is your other female student just as acerbic?"

"Decidedly not," Xavier replied. "She's much more reserved and reticent than the one you just encountered."

"How discouraging," Frost responded, her interest waning.

"We're not here to talk about the students, Emma," Jean Grey reminded her British compatriot. She turned to her friend and mentor. "We've met with Bolivar Trask in an attempt to stop him from creating the Sentinels. He refused to listen to us."

"Really. It makes you wonder why he bothered to meet with us in the first place," Frost commented.

"He doesn't see mutants as equals. He sees us as monsters that need to be controlled." Grey brushed a strand of brilliant, red hair back from her face. "But something strange occured while we were there."

"Our meeting with Trask was interrupted when he received an urgent phone call," Frost continued. "When he returned, he was severely agitated and ordered us to leave immediately. Of course, we glimpsed into his mind to see why he was so testy. It just so happens that the factory in Japan, which manufactured the parts for the Sentinels, was completely demolished overnight. Apparently, it was destroyed during an earthquake and then somehow became ablaze. But because of the hour it took place, there were no fatalities or injuries."

Xavier frowned. "How odd. Do they have any idea how this happened?"

"They think that the earthquake was just a natural disaster, and some machinery and electrical wires were dislodged, setting the place on fire," Grey responded in a skeptical tone. "I don't buy it. The circumstances seem too unlikely."

"We can't pull the wool over your eyes, can we, Jean?" Frost remarked drily, sending a cold smile in the redhead's direction.

Grey ignored her. "What's even more suspect was what happened to the Sentinel base here in the U.S., located in New Mexico. Implausible as it is, the base seems to have just disappeared overnight, leaving just an empty space where it previously stood. It's as if the base just ceased to exist."

Sighing, Xavier voiced his candidates for the instigators of the situation. "Mutants."

Frost shrugged elegantly. "Honestly. Who else? With the knowledge the all of the scientists and workers who had ever set foot in the building retained no memory of the Sentinel project, that's a forgone conclusion at this point."

"Was that the work of a telepath?" Xavier questioned, considering Frost with his eyes.

"I believe so," Grey returned. "We managed to obtain a list of scientists who were involved with the project," Grey went on. "We visited them in secret and searched through their minds for any hint of the Sentinel project. There was none. Whoever had erased their memories had done a smooth job. There were no fragmented memories or unfinished thoughts, just anything about the Sentinels gone, as if they had no part in it."

"So whoever is doing this is organized," Xavier mused. "They don't want mutants to be harmed or even controlled by the Sentinels. But so far, they haven't harmed anyone themselves."

"Unless you define washing away someone's memories as 'harm,'" Grey said coolly.

"For God's sake, grow up, Jean," Frost replied dismissively. She turned to Xavier, a cunning smile on her beautiful face. "So, Charles. Tell me all about these female students of yours."


The deeper Munroe took her into Xavier's Academy, the more the building reminded Anna of the castle from the Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets movie, which she had once watched for all of five minutes. She had never actually read the books, as the nuns at DuPont's Prep had banned them from the school premises due to the misconception that the contents of the books advocated black magic. Frankly, Anna didn't care one way or the other; although she enjoyed reading on occasions, she often found it difficult to sit still and concentrate on text for long periods of time.

Munroe had started out by walking down the hall, out of the lobby, then turning right, before walking up a staircase. A few left and right turns later, Anna had no idea where they were or how they had gotten there, and was beginning to wonder if Munroe was taking her to be locked away in a dungeon somewhere.

Finally, Munroe stopped at a door, and slid a plastic card through a slot on the wall. There was a click as the electronic lock retracted, and Munroe smoothly pulled the door open.

"After you," she said politely.

Warily, Anna entered to find herself in a long, white hallway with numerous, dark doors on either side. Obviously, this was the girls' dormitory.

"Here." Munroe, who had walked up beside her, offered Anna a plastic card. "This is your dorm key. It will open the first door to the South Wing and the door to your dorm room. It won't open anything else, though, so don't bother."

Skeptically, Anna accepted the card. "Who lives in all of these rooms?"

"They're empty," Munroe replied, glancing at Anna expectantly.

"So if they're empty, why do I have to have a roommate? There's no logic in that at all- "

"If you have complaints, Anna Marie, I suggest you bring them up with the headmaster at your next meeting." Munroe cut Anna off mid-sentence, and there was an edge of impatience in her voice. "In the meantime, I suggest you unpack. Classes will let out for the day soon, and your roommate should be arriving shortly. There is a map of the school in your student handbook. All of your textbooks are in your locker, and the schedule I gave you has the number and combination. Dinner will start at six o'clock and end at seven o'clock. When you receive your meal, show your student I.D. card in lieu of payment. Breakfast tomorrow is from seven to seven forty-five. Of course, this is all on your schedule." Munroe turned to leave. "And Anna Marie, I hope you enjoy your time at Xavier's Academy." With a conclusive air, she walked out of the hallway, and bizarrely, a gust of wind seemed to slam door shut behind her.

Immensely annoyed by the woman's quick dismissal of her, Anna stared at the door from which Munroe had exited, before shaking her head in an attempt to allay her ever-rising irritation. She turned her attention to the dorms, the gears in her head turning. With Ms. Marvel's superhuman strength, it would be simple to rip the lock form out of the door, and just reside in a different dorm so she would've have to deal with a roommate.

But Raven had wanted her to try her best at this school. And Raven had always been kind to her. The least Anna could do for her was at least try to make the school work.

"Damn my conscience," Anna muttered.

But still, that didn't necessarily stop her from trying.

Anna jammed the plastic key card into the nearest door, but the light in the electronic lock blinked red, and the handle didn't give. She was very tempted to give into her anger and rip the handle from the door, but reluctantly dropped her hand, suppressing the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach at the sight of the polish on her fingernails. With an exasperated sigh and a dramatic roll of her eyes, Anna removed the card, willing to accept defeat for now. She glanced at the number eight on her card, turned to the right side of the hall, and walked to her room, her footfalls muffled by the thick carpet.

She halted in front of her room, which was designated by the brass number eight fasted upon the door. Noticeably, the wood in the dormitory was much less fancy then the headmaster's office and the lobby, but Anna presumed the reason for the industrial material was because the administration was unwilling to install expensive doors only to have teenagers destroy them the very next day. Perhaps the adults at this school were more pragmatic then she had credited them.

Preparing herself for the worst, Anna squared her shoulders, pushed her key card into the slot, and cautiously entered the room.

White, twelve by nineteen foot walls greeted her as she stepped inside. In the farthest left corner, an empty dorm bed with a steel frame rested lengthwise against the far wall. The right corner opposite that contained a tall, oak chest of drawers, with a window sitting just next to it, to the left. Another door was built into the right wall.

Anna let the door shut behind her as she walked further inside. The room was no smaller than her dorm at DuPont's Preparatory had been.

"Maybe this roommate thing won't suck as much as I thought," Anna said out loud. She turned to survey the rest of the room.

I spoke too soon. Dammit.

Anna could see another dorm bed sitting lengthwise by the left wall, in the near left corner with its headboard against the near wall. The foot of the bed was positioned just before the closet, of which one of the sliding doors had been left ajar. A joint wooden desk, designed to seat two people, was pushed alongside the right wall.

But it wasn't the furniture itself that drew Anna's gaze of total horror. No, it was the decoration of that area of the room that brought her feelings of both irritation and nausea.

The coverlet and pillowcase of the neatly made bed depicted a scene of what was apparently a sunset over a beach, if the silhouettes of palm trees were anything to judge by. Of course, due to the sunset, the colors of the fabric were various hues of pink and purple, besides the black outline of the palm trees.

Vibrant ribbons and tissue paper flowers complete with pipe-cleaner stems adorned the bed's stainless steel framework, winding in and out of the metal posts. The wall above the head of the bed frame had been embellished with glow-in-the-dark stars and planets and a large, beaded dreamcatcher. Evidently, the overly enthusiastic interior decorator had felt as if the room's atmosphere did not elicit a suitably bewildered reaction from those who summoned up enough courage to venture inside, because in addition to the already rather odd decorations in her corner of the room, she had inexplicably decided to include a plush toy in the form of what appeared to be a somewhat pudgy, lavender dragon in the collection of beach-themed throw pillows on her bed.

Several posters had been tacked up on the wall alongside the bed; amongst those were portrayals of Justin Beiber, the Effiel Tower, Zac Effron, and a diabetes-inducing image of a kitten sitting on top of what seemed to be an enormous stiletto heel. Anna averted her eyes from the former as soon as possible in order to preserve her vision, and found the latter to be somewhat bizarre.

With a roll of her eyes, Anna's disgusted gaze traveled to the closet beside her roommate's bed. One of the doors had been pushed back and then left open, revealing several school uniforms and pastel-colored clothes hanging inside, accompanied by several pairs of shoes methodically ordered on a metal wire rack.

Next, her eyes found the chest of drawers, the top of which had been covered with a white doily, upon which a flowered jewelry box rested. A baby blue teddy bear sat beside the box, as if guarding its contents. A large, pink message board was positioned aside the bear, the pale yellow ribbons crisscrossing over the satin fabric, holding photos and drawings in place.

In an attempt to stop her eyeballs from permanent scarring due to overexposure to bright colors, Anna quickly looked over at the double desk that was situated between the entrance and the unfortunate sunset-style bed. The one half of the desk that was closest to the door had been left untouched. But a square, glittery, plastic pencil pot, filled with equally glittery gel pens, a multi-colored, polka-dotted notebook, and a vase that contained actual flowers occupied the side of the desk by the bed. Closer inspection of the desk revealed that numerous bottles of pastel nail polish, some with sparkles, also rested upon its surface.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths to avoid hyperventilating, Anna turned her back on the lurid, migraine-inducing display of pastels, and focusing on her luggage, which had been placed at the foot of her bed.

"Oh, hell no," Anna muttered as she spotted the trunk.

It seemed that Bella, her twenty-seven-year-old stepmother who her father had married almost two years ago, had decided to pack for her. Although Anna did her best to appreciate the gesture, a coalescence of dread and irritation created an unpleasant feeling in her stomach. Bella was always not-so-subtly trying to push Anna to drop the blend of goth and steampunk and prance around in designer clothing just like she did. But whether it was because Bella's enthusiasm for such clothes had driven Anna to the opposite end of the fashion spectrum, or she just didn't like being told what to do, Anna could not bring herself to appreciate the expensive brand names as much as Bella.

To be honest, Anna preferred to mix and match her clothing to create her own style. Mostly, her clothing was black, with some indigo, blood red, dark violet and blue, or occasionally emerald green to complement her eyes. Anna had never really understood her peers at boarding school who adored designer brands, but had assumed that the others girls' mothers had taught them a lesson she had never learned, due to the absence of a maternal figure in her life, although she'd never dwelled on the subject for very long.

Most of her clothes were fairly casual, not that it made very much of a difference when she had attended boarding school and worn a uniform for nine months for the year. And thanks to Xavier's Academy, it seemed as if that trend was most likely to continue.

Thankfully, despite Bella's obsession with designer brands, it appeared that she had the good sense not to pack Anna's belongings in suitcases stamped with logos, and had instead selected a large, sturdy trunk with steel-reinforced sides, with similar materials for the other suitcases. However, the trunk was not totally nondescript; the plywood sides were a bright purple, and so were the fiberglass suitcases.

Oh, Bella. So close to actually appearing competent, Anna thought acidly, habitually ignoring the stab of guilt she felt as she realized that Bella was only trying to help her, and didn't deserve her insults.

But then again, for Bella, this display of proficiency was a large accomplishment. Making a mental note to congratulate her stepmother on her progressing foresight, Anna unzipped her left combat boot, removed the key that she had kept bandaged to the side of her ankle over her leggings, and unlocked the trunk.

Upon opening her trunk, Anna stared at the contents, and then grimaced. Shaking her head, she reluctantly stood, began ripping plastic packages open and making her bed, all the while doing her best to suppress her annoyance. When she had finished, Anna stood back to survey her work.

The comforter and linens Bella had shipped with her luggage were pink. Not just pink, but magenta, and bordered with huge roses in every shade of lurid pink imaginable, from nadeshiko to coral. The cashmere blanket, sheets, pillowcase, and lacy throw pillows were all matching, and just as equally pink and flowery.

Anna did her best to maintain a positive attitude as she tucked her silk sheets into hospital corners with practice, spread her comforter over her bed, and automatically arranged her pillows, as she had done for many years at boarding school.

But as she looked around the room, Anna could only think, Bella's trying to kill me. I'm going to drown in pinkness.

No longer attempting to curb her inherent tendency of a bad attitude, Anna rolled her eyes and scowled in frustration, grinding her teeth to avoid spitting out every expletive she knew. She was just about to stalk across the room and assure herself that Bella hadn't sent her all pastel designer clothes, and plan her vengeance if the situation warranted it, but was interrupted when the door to her room swung open.

A girl stood in the doorway, her eyes wide as she stared at Anna. She was petite, brunette with short hair cut into a pixie style, and looked utterly shaken to see Anna there.

"Oh my God!" She blurted, her heart-shaped face draining white, which was, Anna observed ungenerously, definitely not a good look for her. "Who are you?"

Tempted to snarl a vicious reply, Anna resisted the urge and flatly met the other girl's brown gaze. Struggling to keep her tone neutral, she said with a careless shrug, "I'm your roommate."


Oh, a cliffhanger. That twist would put M. Night Shyamalan to shame.

Many thanks to my reviewers, and a quick question- is Anna (Marie) being too much of a jerk here? I want her to be viewed as a teenager struggling to readjust and upset by the change in schools, but I don't want her to seem like a heinous bitch. Keep me updated if that ever happens.

Peace!