"Harder." The voice rang in her head. "Faster." She pushed herself faster, working harder, her muscles screamed in protest, her mind filtered out the pain. "You must be perfect." The voice always managed to sound exactly like her dad; her hooked nails clung to the ceiling easily as she dragged her body up again and again. Her oversized trench coat lay almost forgotten on the bed, without it the numerous scars that littered her body were visible to the world. With indifference she unhooked her fingers allowing herself to freefall a few feet before she simply turned and landed with the grace of a cat. Carefully she ran a single finger over her arm, feeling the multitudes of hair fine lines that crisscrossed her ghost pale skin.
"I learn fast don't I dad?" She laughed darkly under her breath, as her finger found the joker on the inside of her wrist. "You just taught me too well, didn't you daddy? Taught your little joker too well." In an instant a glittering knife was in her fingers, held above the jokers mouth set to slit his smile. "I just love games don't you?" She questioned the harlequin on her other wrist.
A knock on the door interrupted her. "Ze Profezzor wanted me to show you to ze kitchen."
"Give me a second." Regan twisted the knife in her palm and slid it back into its wrist holster with practiced ease, and slid her trench coat on covering the scars and the knives. "Bonjour! So you're my escort this morning?"
"Ja." The boy greeted, tucking a strand of his shaggy blue hair behind his ear.
"Ah German? Then Danke." He cocked his head to the side slightly.
"sprechen sie deutsch?"
"Non." Regan smiled at the dumbstruck boy. "Je parle Francais. Now are we going to break fast or what?" something about this boy made her comfortable, he was easy to talk to, in her world, dangerous. "I never got your name."
"oh ja, sorry. My name is Kurt Vagner." The rubbed the back of his head nervously smiling in embarrassment. "Ze kitchen iz zis vay, if you vill follow me." He walked off in the opposite direction she had come last night. Three flights of stairs and Regan was starting to seriously consider this a compound rather than a house, even a mansion, it could hold everyone in her family and still have room left for family friends! "Ze kitchen iz right here, I think ze professor iz going to introduce you." Kurt smiled warmly at her.
"Thanks for your help this morning Kurt, I don't think I could have found my way down here otherwise." Regan said with a slight laugh, shaking her head so that her opal hair caught and reflected the morning light.
"Ah Kurt, thank you for fetching Miss Regan, if you would be so kind, I would like to speak with her alone for just a moment."
"Ja, it vas nice meeting you Regan." Regan turned to face the professor.
"Good morning Regan, I trust you slept well?" Regan nodded absentmindedly. "That's good, now, I was wondering if I could have your decision on living at the school; I know it's sudden but I think the more time the older students have to get used to the idea of someone else their age living here the better. Only two of them have been here for more than a year, but they are very close." The professor watched as Regan's eyes went strangely blank.
Regan was arguing with herself, if she were here she could be closer to her brother and farther from her father. But could she leave everything she had ever known? Was freedom worth that price? Was a new game worth the risk it involved? She answered that the same way she answered all of those questions. "Yes, I'll stay here."
"Excellent, then let's meet your new family shall we?" Regan nodded once again, keeping rigid control over herself so as not to twitch at the word 'family', family implied emotional ties, love, and she could not afford that; that was a lesson that had been drilled in thoroughly by her father. "Regan, I would like you to meet Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Rouge, Katherine Pryde, and I believe you already know Evan and Kurt. Everyone this is Regan, you're new classmate." Regan smiled shyly tilting her head so her bangs weren't in her eyes. The intensity in her nearly clear blue eyes startled the surrounding people.
"Hey." She said, her body automatically shifting so she was balanced, her fingers toying with the hilts of her knives.
"Good, you found your way, without running into a wall." Regan giggled a noise that startled everyone.
"That would be thanks to Kurt, now move your spiky butt over so I can eat." Everyone tensed at the reference, watching Regan, who was seemingly oblivious, to see if she knew what she just said. Regan sat with a smile, her bangs hiding her eyes; she was no fool, she saw the way their bodies tensed when she called Evan 'Spiky', that was the reason she smiled. A new game to play.