Nobody's Fool by Evanescence
"This is what you heard?" The mute nodded to Professor Xavier's question. His head appeared as he lowered the notebook. Calculating yet kind eyes watched her and she lowered her gaze self-consciously from across the desk. The man was obviously revered around the school and she could understand.
"How can you trust her?" Scott walked forward. "She can't even look you in the eyes and say anything." She looked up at him, as if darts could come from her eyes and she wanted them to imbed into his skull.
"She can look you in the face pretty well," Ororo smirked. "She might be a mutant. What she heard might be part of her power." Ororo suggested it hoping it was true more than thinking so. She'd be easier to deal with if she was a mutant, she thought.
"Just because Angel's imagining people talking doesn't mean she's a mutant," Scott said after reading over her description, likewise ignoring the two women. She looked her over carefully, noticing little details he had not been able to notice from behind her bedroom door. Her wrapped arms got lost in the folds of the sweater as if she was cold in the warm school. Her eyes, when they were still enough for one to notice, seemed to take everything in, observing the smallest details but never underestimating the plans of escape available to the room. Even her hair, Scott found he could not ignore. The thick, brown waves made it easy for her face to hide beneath. It was then that he made the realization that he had never liked brunettes; Ororo had a crop of white while Rogue had red hair, just like. Man, did he miss her. "We don't even know her name, why should we take her word on an attack to the school? Professor, no one knows where we are anymore."
"Some do, Scott," Professor Xavier replied calmly. "The White House may have come to a brief halt against us but others will not stop. I've found Mystique in odd company; a kind of anti-mutant KKK. Why she would be with them, I don't know yet, but the fact that the information she has is within their grasps is enough to make us cautious."
The mute's head was spinning trying to keep track of the conversation. Her face held disgust at the suggestion of her being a mutant and confusion as to why that even mattered. Who was their enemy? Who were they hiding from? Questions kept crowding her mind, without answers.
"Besides," the Professor's voice woke the angel out of her daydream, "There are many here with fake names." At this, his gaze lifted up to Rogue and then, casually, away. "And Angel seems to be working well." His gentle smile tried to soothe the woman but it didn't seem to help. "Still, if you don't mind. it might help us learn a bit about yourself," looking toward Scott, "and it might ease the minds of some others." Professor Xavier slid the notebook to the woman. No matter how gentle he made himself appear, his strong will could be seen in his ever-pressing eye-contact and firm use of his hands as he gestured for her to write.
With a frown and a tentative glance at the notebook, she didn't make a move. Logan came to stand behind her, obviously curious himself. She looked yup at him and then picked up the notebook, using the pen she was twirling since she met the impressive Professor Xavier. After a brief moment, she gave the book directly to Logan, showing she had learned to trust him more than anyone else she had unknowingly been living with the past couple of days.
Requel
Her scribbling script lacked the precision of someone under a million eyes. No matter how uncomfortable she must have been feeling, she wasn't afraid of what they thought of her. Something else was bothering her, something deeper.
Shortly, Logan gave the notebook back to the Professor. The latter nodded and let it lay on the desk for the rest to see. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us?" Requel folded into herself. "Maybe about you're family or from where you come."
"She hit her head pretty bad in the crash," Rogue stated. "She doesn't remember-"
"Angel remembered her name," Ororo interjected as moods built in the small room. Amid the arguments, Professor Xavier gave Requel an exasperated expression.
"I think a little less people might help," he said above the bickering voices. "I'm sure the children will need an explanation."
"What are we supposed to tell them? We're now a mental institute," Ororo muttered as she left,. Professor Xavier looked to Cyclops, seemingly talking to each other without speaking. Logan lingered, watching the woman. It was like meeting her all over again, knowing nothing abut her. Requel. He would have never guessed.
Cyclops stood like some military jerk, close to her and near the desk. He had training, she could tell. A bad enemy to gave, she thought.
Professor Xavier wheeled his chair around his desk to the girl who twirled her chair to face him. She gave him a hard stare, begging him to ask another question so she could give him the silent treatment and have everyone take offense once again. Having Logan stick up for her raised her confidence.
"If you do not tell me what you can, Angel, I will be forced to read your mind." He calmly stated this as if it was given as Cyclops remained motionless. Before she could figure out what he meant, Professor Xavier looked to Cyclops and gave a slight nod that Requel failed to notices until her hand was forced on top of the desk. At first, she did not know what any of this meant and did not fight the grip around her wrist. Then, she finally registered what the Professor said and what he could do if hers spoke the truth. She thought of the emptiness in her head and became ashamed of it. Her thoughts traveled toe the domineering hand and finally got sick of everyone forcing one thing or another on her, especially Cyclops. He did not know her and she did not know him enough o force her to do anything.
The fear and anger reverberated through her body just as Professor Xavier was reaching out his own hand and closing his eyes in concentration. The pressure pushed from her heart up her throat, to her natural defense. Something hit Cyclops that instantly brought a headache, as bad as the one at Alkali Lake. Professor Xavier, being the direct hit, fell down to the floor by the power of the waves. Before they knew what had hit them, the mute was out the door.
"This is what you heard?" The mute nodded to Professor Xavier's question. His head appeared as he lowered the notebook. Calculating yet kind eyes watched her and she lowered her gaze self-consciously from across the desk. The man was obviously revered around the school and she could understand.
"How can you trust her?" Scott walked forward. "She can't even look you in the eyes and say anything." She looked up at him, as if darts could come from her eyes and she wanted them to imbed into his skull.
"She can look you in the face pretty well," Ororo smirked. "She might be a mutant. What she heard might be part of her power." Ororo suggested it hoping it was true more than thinking so. She'd be easier to deal with if she was a mutant, she thought.
"Just because Angel's imagining people talking doesn't mean she's a mutant," Scott said after reading over her description, likewise ignoring the two women. She looked her over carefully, noticing little details he had not been able to notice from behind her bedroom door. Her wrapped arms got lost in the folds of the sweater as if she was cold in the warm school. Her eyes, when they were still enough for one to notice, seemed to take everything in, observing the smallest details but never underestimating the plans of escape available to the room. Even her hair, Scott found he could not ignore. The thick, brown waves made it easy for her face to hide beneath. It was then that he made the realization that he had never liked brunettes; Ororo had a crop of white while Rogue had red hair, just like. Man, did he miss her. "We don't even know her name, why should we take her word on an attack to the school? Professor, no one knows where we are anymore."
"Some do, Scott," Professor Xavier replied calmly. "The White House may have come to a brief halt against us but others will not stop. I've found Mystique in odd company; a kind of anti-mutant KKK. Why she would be with them, I don't know yet, but the fact that the information she has is within their grasps is enough to make us cautious."
The mute's head was spinning trying to keep track of the conversation. Her face held disgust at the suggestion of her being a mutant and confusion as to why that even mattered. Who was their enemy? Who were they hiding from? Questions kept crowding her mind, without answers.
"Besides," the Professor's voice woke the angel out of her daydream, "There are many here with fake names." At this, his gaze lifted up to Rogue and then, casually, away. "And Angel seems to be working well." His gentle smile tried to soothe the woman but it didn't seem to help. "Still, if you don't mind. it might help us learn a bit about yourself," looking toward Scott, "and it might ease the minds of some others." Professor Xavier slid the notebook to the woman. No matter how gentle he made himself appear, his strong will could be seen in his ever-pressing eye-contact and firm use of his hands as he gestured for her to write.
With a frown and a tentative glance at the notebook, she didn't make a move. Logan came to stand behind her, obviously curious himself. She looked yup at him and then picked up the notebook, using the pen she was twirling since she met the impressive Professor Xavier. After a brief moment, she gave the book directly to Logan, showing she had learned to trust him more than anyone else she had unknowingly been living with the past couple of days.
Requel
Her scribbling script lacked the precision of someone under a million eyes. No matter how uncomfortable she must have been feeling, she wasn't afraid of what they thought of her. Something else was bothering her, something deeper.
Shortly, Logan gave the notebook back to the Professor. The latter nodded and let it lay on the desk for the rest to see. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us?" Requel folded into herself. "Maybe about you're family or from where you come."
"She hit her head pretty bad in the crash," Rogue stated. "She doesn't remember-"
"Angel remembered her name," Ororo interjected as moods built in the small room. Amid the arguments, Professor Xavier gave Requel an exasperated expression.
"I think a little less people might help," he said above the bickering voices. "I'm sure the children will need an explanation."
"What are we supposed to tell them? We're now a mental institute," Ororo muttered as she left,. Professor Xavier looked to Cyclops, seemingly talking to each other without speaking. Logan lingered, watching the woman. It was like meeting her all over again, knowing nothing abut her. Requel. He would have never guessed.
Cyclops stood like some military jerk, close to her and near the desk. He had training, she could tell. A bad enemy to gave, she thought.
Professor Xavier wheeled his chair around his desk to the girl who twirled her chair to face him. She gave him a hard stare, begging him to ask another question so she could give him the silent treatment and have everyone take offense once again. Having Logan stick up for her raised her confidence.
"If you do not tell me what you can, Angel, I will be forced to read your mind." He calmly stated this as if it was given as Cyclops remained motionless. Before she could figure out what he meant, Professor Xavier looked to Cyclops and gave a slight nod that Requel failed to notices until her hand was forced on top of the desk. At first, she did not know what any of this meant and did not fight the grip around her wrist. Then, she finally registered what the Professor said and what he could do if hers spoke the truth. She thought of the emptiness in her head and became ashamed of it. Her thoughts traveled toe the domineering hand and finally got sick of everyone forcing one thing or another on her, especially Cyclops. He did not know her and she did not know him enough o force her to do anything.
The fear and anger reverberated through her body just as Professor Xavier was reaching out his own hand and closing his eyes in concentration. The pressure pushed from her heart up her throat, to her natural defense. Something hit Cyclops that instantly brought a headache, as bad as the one at Alkali Lake. Professor Xavier, being the direct hit, fell down to the floor by the power of the waves. Before they knew what had hit them, the mute was out the door.