Lacking any dry clothes of her own, Gabriele had to settle on changing into clothes loaned to her from Moira MacTaggert. Unfortunately, Agent MacTaggert was fond of skirts and had packed no trousers with her. Gabriele gave no complaints however, simply happy to be dry. After changing, she towards the ship's cafeteria, preparing herself for more social interaction.
Gabriele went barefoot, having not been comfortable with her shoes choices. The pleated black skirt she borrowed from her coworker ended at her knee, leaving her pale legs exposed. Her blouse was tucked into the skirt and Gabriele rolled up the sleeves to her elbows since MacTaggert's arms were a bit longer than her own. She was well aware of the exposed tattoo on the inside of her left forearm but she had jacket to hide it with.
Her bare feet made no sound as she walked across the tiled floor of the cafeteria towards one of the long tables were the same group of people who had greeted her on deck sat talking. She noted that Charles and the other man had also changed into dry clothes. They were in the middle of a conversation when she made her presence known by addressing her boss. "You wanted to talk to me, Bridge?" She said with a faint smile. She had decided to reconsider her previous unfriendly behavior. Gabriele never meant to be a callous person but things happen.
"Oh, there you are Richter." Bridge said, ending the previous conversation. She took a seat next to her boss, but she left an empty chair between them. With the amount of skin she had exposed, she took extra precautions. Bridge no longer noticed or found aspersion towards the empty space. It was a rare occasion when she felt comfortable enough to shred her usual black turtleneck and he refused to spoil it for her. Bridge had never been on the receiving end of her mutation but he knew it wasn't a walk in the park.
In order to heal any damage caused by first impressions, she decided to reintroduce herself, first to Charles Xavier. The woman extended a gloved hand. "I would like to apologize for my previous behavior. I didn't mean to come off so insolent. My name is Gabriele Richter."
Charles seemed completely taken aback by her change in tone, but he shook her hand nonetheless. "Yes, Agent Bridge explained that you aren't exactly a people person." He said in his friendly British accent.
"Well, talking to people isn't really a part of my job." She said, returning the smile.
"What exactly is your job?" The other man, Erik Lehnsherr, asked. He sat to the right of Charles, wearing a dark blue turtleneck under a brown leather jacket. What really caught her attention was his faint German accent. Barely unrecognizable, much like her own, but it was there. In the second she took to respond, she noticed his eyes flash to the austere tattoo on her arm.
"Ich töte menschen. Ironisch, nicht wahr?" I kill people. Ironic, isn't it? The German was lost on everyone else, but the man gave her a small smile. But Charles wasn't far behind. His eyes, too, flickered to her arm.
"What a minute. You're a Holocaust survivor? How old are you?" Charles asked, leaning forward in his metal chair. Gabriele was sure she would get this response more often if she enacted with more people.
"I was born in 1928. So, I'm 34. I'm older than I look." She said with another smile. If she kept this up, her face would start hurting. "I believe my lack of aging has something to do with my mutation." She continued.
That was when Moira and the little blonde girl spoke at the same time. "You're a mutant?" Apparently Charles hadn't spilled his guts on whatever he learned while he was in her head. Nor had Bridge told Moira about her coworker.
"What can you do?" Raven said with a new found fascination in her voice.
Her request made Gabriele uncomfortable. She looked to Bridge for help but his face held nothing of the kind. "Uh, does anyone have a knife of some kind that I can borrow?" Gabriele had left hers with her wet clothes. After a moment, Erik pulled a small switchblade from his pocket and handed it to Gabriele, who nodded her thanks. Without more hesitation she removed her left glove and flicked the knife open. She pressed the silver blade to the palm of her hand and pulled it downwards. A small cut appeared and a trickle of blood made its way down her palm.
Erik Lehnsherr watched in mild awe as the woman cut open her palm. Just when he thought the wound threatened to cover her entire hand in blood, it disappeared. The cut simply healed itself; the separated skin molded back together and not even a scar was left behind. She wiped the knife clean before handing it back to him with her still gloved hand.
Erik wasn't sure how to perceive the woman sitting before him. Her brown hair was cut short and held a slight curl. Her hair was the same color as her big, oval eyes. Despite her age, she looked no older than the blonde sitting across from her. Physically, there was nothing remarkable about her, about from the serial number that was tattooed on her arm. Not since Auschwitz's liberation had Erik met another Holocaust survivor. And never another mutant. The day had been full of surprises.
"Cool!" The juvenile blonde, who sat on the side of Charles, said with glee. "What else can you do?" Immediately, the woman became uncomfortable again. A tension that had been unnoticeable showed itself in her squared shoulders and clenched jaw. Erik watched with curiosity as she fidgeted with her glove before pulling it back on. For a brief moment, the woman seemed determine not to provide an answer but then she seemed to change her mind.
Gabriele wasn't sure how to answer the girl, or if she even wanted to give her an answer. An awkward silence filled the air. Bridge simply looked at Gabriele and, once again, offered no help. She thought about lying, saying that she had no other abilities. But that seemed counter productive. In the end, she would just appear as a liar. She was many things, but she was not a liar. In the end, she settled on being vague. "My other ability, which manifested a short time after my advanced healing, isn't the prettiest or the safest thing." Even as she said it, she knew it wouldn't satisfy their interest.
"Can you, like, cause things to explode or something?" Raven's nosiness was starting to annoy Gabriele and she was beginning to find it hard not to snap at the girl that it was none of her business.
Thankfully, Charles noticed that the woman was on the verge of relapsing to her former, rude behavior. Being overly nice and accommodating was clearly a chore for her. So, Charles changed the subject. "We'll come back to that later, Raven. But right now, I believe Agent Bridge has something to discuss with us."
