Logs:Cold Comfort

Cold Comfort
Dramatis Personae Avery, B, Desi	2023-07-17 "I’ll just walk off, leaving the guilt to eat you on the inside." (followed by shane and daiki being lil more welcoming.)
Location <XAV> Grounds - Xs Grounds
Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse. The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous. It's not a particularly nice day, really -- it's been sweltering and muggy for most of the day and now that the temperature is finally starting to drop to something bearable, it's only because ominous thunderclouds are rolling in and the air is getting even heavier. Nevertheless, B is taking a small break from the team's grueling training schedule to sit out on the porch, sipping on a cream soda and swinging idly in a porch swing on the big front porch. The young woman -- admittedly does not look much like a Young Woman, diminutive stature closer to that of a child, deeply inhuman blue demon-ish face very difficult to gauge by way of Age or Gender, and her clothes at this exact moment (lightweight silver-and-black swim trunks paired with a Xavier's School tee shirt) do not offer much further help either. She's swiping at the screen, her pupilless pitch-black eyes wide as she studies the output there. Keeps typing, frowns deeper, the expression only easing when several large beetles (or, at closer inspection, small robots fashioned to look like beetles) crawl down from the rooftop eaves to line themselves up, neatly, on the arm of the swing. Whatever information they have just relayed to her tablet earns a small and satisfied nod before she swigs again at the soda. Avery finally can get a break. She had been running off for almost a day, and she had made it to the school that guy in Brooklyn told her about. It was like the gates of heaven opened up for her. It was a reprieve from all the chaos. You could see she was spent, her clothes wrinkled up and her legs about to collapse on themselves. Avery looked really out of place when next to the mansion — looked like she was ripped right out of an alleyway, with a dark green duffel bag full of things she packed up in a hurry. “Hello…? This the safe place for mutants…?” She asked the person on the porch, putting her bag down right at the bottom of the steps. “I got told there was a place for mutants that I could get help for… Anyone who could help? Like Professor Xavier?” She asked, grabbing her bag just in case she got rejected. The sign did say “School for Gifted Youngsters”, so it was probably just masquerading as a special needs school. Maybe there was someone who could help, even if this was just a school. Her desperation was on high, and it was obvious. Sitting beside B, Desi looks like an entirely normal young woman. Her long brown hair is coiled up and pinned neatly at the back of her head, her leaf green sundress accentuates her intensely green eyes and makes her light skin, only faintly dusted with freckles, look ethereal rather than pale. She has a Kindle balanced in one hand, her willowy frame folded gracefully onto the swing with one leg dangling down to give them an occasional boost. When the robotic bugs arrive she she does not seem in the least alarmed, though she does glance up at them. And then past them, at the young person at the base of the steps. "Hello." Her voice pleasant and even, her smile faint and sympathetic. "This is Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, but I don't think the Professor himself is available just now. What kind of help are you looking for?" B blinks -- first one clear inner set of eyelids, and then her second, opaque blue set. The slitted gills along the side of her neck flutter open slowly -- closed slowly. Her bare foot (clawed, webbed toes) presses slowly against the porch slats to still the lazy swing of the bench and her (also sharp-clawed) fingernails tap lightly against the side of her glass bottle. "No," she answers, finally, and her voice is a light and even mirror of Desi's, "no mutants here. Help for -- what?" Avery turned her free hand into a sickle and back, hoping to convince them with that and then some. “Look, I’m on the run to Alaska. I wanted to see if Xavier could help me out in anyway… with training or with supplies… Hell, maybe even legally.” She told them, wiping the sweat off her brow. “I got told by a mutant in the Bronx that Charles Xavier could help me. I made it all the way from Staten Island via subway, ferry, and hitchhiking, so I want to make this count…” She added, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. “If you’re gonna deny me in, okay then. I’ll just walk off, leaving the guilt to eat you on the inside.” Avery smirked, trying to play smart. “But, really. I do need that help… Because my legs are about to explode.” She laughed, gesturing her hands around like second nature. “You gonna help me or not?” Desi lifts one eyebrow slightly when Avery's hand turns into a sickle. She looks from the visitor to B, in all her blue shark-person glory, then back. "This is a school," she repeats, patiently. "Whining louder and repeatedly name-dropping the headmaster won't change that. We know who he is. If you're trying to get to Alaska, the train station is back the way you came." Her voice is cooler now. "I'm sure we will cope with the guilt somehow." B does not lift an eyebrow, when Avery's hand turns into a sickle; her enormous pitch-black eyes and flat-inhuman features don't betray much of anything at all, really. Her gills do flutter open again, and then she looks back down at her tablet. "I'm sure Alaska's lovely this time of year," she offers, light, with a small-polite smile. Her webbed hand tips out toward Desi at this is a school. "GoFundMe is always an option if you're looking to finance your trip." Avery stood there for a moment. Stunned, blinking at the lack of hospitality, Avery rolled her eyes and laughed. “Fine, fine...” Avery blew a warm wind their direction to add on to the summer misery. “Go fuck yourselves.” She said with a confidence that could rival a peacock, her face wide with a cocky grin. “There’s always a smash-and-grab or grift… always a smash-and-grab or grift…” She mumbled to herself, turning away from the school. “Keith’s gotta cover this up anyways… say it was a burglar… and that they ran off… not even a mutant…” She continued, rambling to herself until it became inaudible to the two on the porch. When she was far away enough from the school, she texted her oldest brother, Keith, about what happened. Her dad was dead in the hospital, apparently she had hit a major spot and they couldn’t do much about it. They were going to cover up for her, and hopefully no one would remember the death of Antonio Moreli as a freak accident caused by his mutant kid.