Kitty yawned, having been up earlier than most so that she could get in a shower and be ready to go before all the students were up. Now everyone was getting up and Kitty was on her way to her classroom to wait for her students. Jogging down the hallways, she sighed as she reached the bottleneck of students. Feeling impatient, she stepped through the wall nearest to her and began running through the first floor classrooms, phasing through the walls and objects in her way until she reached her destination. Migrating to the desk, she took a seat and reclined, awaiting her pupils.




Vanille groaned as she heard someone yelling a wake-up call. Getting up, she muttered curses as she walked to the wall and grabbed the clothes off the shelf there and quickly changed. Flinging her dirty clothes toward the hamper, the pink haired girl ran a brush through her messy pink hair and pulled it up into a ponytail. Jogging out of her room, she watched all the people below her heading to their respective classes.

Chuckling at the people in their slow-moving groups, she sighed, "Maybe walking on the ceiling isn't so bad after all!"

Checking the crumpled list in her hand, she walked in what she assumed was the direction of her first class. After a minute she was taking a seat on the ceiling, waiting for the class to start.




Magneto paced his room, waiting for his students to arrive. He had been very impatient since he regained his powers, although he had been weakened for a long time- five years to be exact. As usual, Magneto was dressed in his signature black suit and red-lined cape which had pocketfuls of little metal trinkets. Now Magneto removed one of those trinkets, a piece of silver chain, and let it hover above his palm and become first a crumpled ball and then a perfect sphere. Letting the orb float back into his pocket, he took a seat in the single, metal chair in the middle of the room.

Several minutes later, when everyone had arrived, Magneto began speaking. "My fellow mutants, the time has come for us to put our training to use to eliminate those who would oppose us in our quest for glory- our quest for supremacy! This very morning we shall go to defeat those who claim to fight for the good of our people- those who would protect the monkeys called homo sapiens! My brothers and sisters, prepare for battle!" Magneto plucked his helmet from the desk next to him and put it on, the silver and red metal of it gleaming in the dull light.




Flower scrambled out of bed and dressed as soon as she heard the meeting call. Ripping a brush through her tangled curls, Flower dashed from the room, still pulling her gloves. Dashing to Magneto's room, she took care not to bump into anyone within the crowd. Standing in the small crowd within Magneto's room, she listened to him talk, but didn't join in on the cheers of her fellows. When they were dismissed, she immediately headed back to her room and pulled on a black jacket and slip on shoes. Sliding a pocketknife into the zip-pocket of her jacket, Flower headed back out of her room and out to the front of the building, where countless others were already assembling. Standing at the edge of the group, she waited patiently for Magneto to lead them to battle.

Samael had just finished reading through Torah again when a wake up call sounded. He rolled up Torah, kissed it, then put it in a drawer on top of a satin pillow. He then sat on the edge of his bed and chuckled to himself. A wake up call. Not since his birth had he ever slept. From birth he was like this and he never slept. He was told that was odd, but having never known it, he did not miss it. Still chuckling to himself a bit, Samael got up from his bed and began getting dressed. He was very nervous for his first day at the academy. It had been 2 days since he had been picked up by Professor Logan, and since then, he had not left his room, nor had any of the other children seen him. As far as he knew, he was the only mutant that did not have an invisible mutation, they did not have to hide, like him. He pulled up his hood. "Well, if anyone will accept me for what I look like, it will be other mutants." Samael said to himself in his Ukrainian accent. He would be prepared for anyone who would call him Russian, for that was the language he spoke and to an untrained ear, it sounded like he was Russian.

Samael slowly opened his door and peeked outside. The hallways were filled with children. He decided to move unnoticed. Samael closed his eyes and began to disintegrate. The cloud of ashes that he became flew out of the door and high over the heads of the other children. He then found the classroom that was his and seeped through under the door. Inside was a pink haired girl sitting on the ceiling. Samael was a little confused, but he wanted to fit in. he guessed if you had the ability to, you could sit on the ceiling. Still in ash form, he flew up to the ceiling and re-formed himself next to the pink haired girl. He was about 5 feet from her on the ceiling. The second he reformed, he had his feet dig into the ceiling. Then for added support, he had his tail slink out of his pants and stab into the ceiling, it then came out in front of him, wrapping around his feet. He was used to being upside down for extended periods of time, so he thought he could get used to it. He decided not say anything to the pink-haired girl. He instead pulled his hood up more and shied away from her.

Lucas was seriously starting to consider staying in his room for the day, he had woken as the activity levels in the academy had increased, until the sounds of everyone's thoughts got too loud for him to stay asleep. He had sat up and slipped his headphones over his ears straight away, effectivly blocking the majority of the noise, though some still got through, making him reach for the migrane pills he kept next to his bed.

No...Have to lay off those...they're not going to help me...
That's what she had told him, Professor Rogue, who had collected him from his home, and brought him here, about a week ago. It had been good timing too: his parents were just about ready to give up on him...they never said anything of course, but what's the point in secrets when your son can hear your every thought? That was him: the psychic Freak...Telepathy, Clairvoiance, Telekinesis, some cosmic screw-up had dumped the whole damn package on him, just for the funnies, and now he was stuck with it. He had to admit: the Telekinesis was fun, he used to play pranks on people with it, and freak them out, and the Clairvoiance had been useful at times...but it was the mind-reading that was the killer...always had been, since he discovered what he was, a mutant...
He decided that he would have to face the tortures outside his room sooner or later, so he stood up, already dressed and after adjusting his dark hair around his headphones, he looked around for the bag of sweets he had left lying around from the night before. His powers took up a lot of energy, since they were active all the time, more energy than his body could get from normal meals, so he had adapted by keeping his energy up with constant amounts of sugar. He located the sweets on his desk, and focusing on it, made it literally jump into his hand, although it took a few tries to do it. Still it made him feel better knowing that he had some control over his abilities...stuffing the bag into the pocket of his hoodie, he took a deep breath and walked out the door, turning up the volume on his mp3 player as he did so.
He eventually got to class and sat down at the very back, noticing two students, one whose face he couldn't see, and one with pink hair, sitting on the ceiling...weird, but then again: what wasn't around here? Shrugging at that question, he grabbed a handful of sweets from his pocket and started eating them. He contemplated offering some to the roof kids, but decided against it: they would want to talk to him, and that would open up a lot of very awkward discussions...

Blackout sighed as she shuffled through the crowds of children to her class. She didn't sleep the night before, she had been too busy writing in her notebook and listening to music. She wore her usual attire, her gothic shirt and jeans with gothic makeup. Her hands were shoved in her pockets and her shoulders were slumped as she stared at the floor. After walking for a few more minutes she reached what she assumed was her classroom and slipped inside.

As soon as she stepped into the room, she headed to the back, away from al of the windows and to where it was the darkest in the room. Only once she had sat down did she let herself look around the room. Two others were sat on the ceiling, a girl with bright pink hair and a boy with a hood covering his head. Another boy was also at the back of the room as well, with headphones on for some reason. Sighing quietly, Blackout crossed her arms on the desk and rested her head on them, closing her pale blue/grey eyes as her wavy black hair covered her head. As soon as her eyes were closed, the darkness seemed to intensify around her, making it hard to see exactly where she was. If someone looked closely they would be able to make out her sat at her desk with her head on her arms, looking as if she was asleep. If they didn't look closely then it would seem to just be darkness.

Circuit

Circuit had been up early to do his morning exercises in the weight room. It lacked size for the number of recruits, but it had all a person would need for a good workout. Right now he was ending his workout with push-ups. He could feel the tension in his muscles with this last set. He wanted to reach his max and then pass it, but Magneto’s calm yet chilling voice was heard over the intercom. As much as Circuit wanted to keep going, this meeting sounded important.

“Damn, and I was almost done.” Circuit said to himself as he walked out of the weight room wearing a black tank top with blue shorts. Walking through the halls, Circuit paid no attention to the other members of the Brotherhood. Half the guys roaming around were psychopaths, who weren’t Circuit’s favorite to work with. He was surprised that someone like Wraith was second in command. The mutant was powerful no doubt, but how stable was he? Upon entering the meeting room, Circuit found himself a nice spot against one of the walls of the room. He hadn’t reached a fatigued state yet, but was sure it would creep up on him as he let himself stand still. Listening to Magneto’s speech and orders, Circuit nodded rather than yelled. After everything was said, the tired young man got himself into the communal bathroom to take a shower. His body begged for him to go take a nap, but that wasn’t needed for him to regain energy. Leaving the shower, he headed to his room and dressed himself in blue jeans, black sneakers and a black thermal. If the Brotherhood had some kind of standard outfit, he’d wear it, but for now he wouldn’t put too much though into what he wore. He chugged a Gatorade and then looked to what seemed to be a small generator in the corner of the room. Placing his hand on the generator, Circuit felt himself recovering from his strenuous workout. “Much better.” Circuit said relieved. When he left his room he headed out to the front of the mansion. His eyes landed on Flower, a member of the Brotherhood he had only talked to once. It was more to pass the awkward silence, but he had talked to her more than the others in the crowd. Walking over to her he gave her head nod.

“Hey, Flower. You ready for this?” Circuit asked as he took his place beside her. In his hand was another bottle of Gatorade he was planning on drinking, this time much more slowly.

Rogue was busy preparing for her English class, "You got to love Storms joke of putting the girl with the heavy southern accent in charge of teaching English", she said shaking her head. In fact she was surprised to be asked to teach anything, she stopped writing on the board and adjusted her clothes with the that she noticed that she had erased part of her writing while writing the next line. She shook her head and started to rewrite everything.

Logan was in the least busy preparing for the gym class he was supposed to take charge off by warming up. He was in the middle of doing push ups when he stood up. "Been five years by now hasn't it?" He asked no one in particular since he was outside. "Well I guess class will be in session in a bit. Better prepare for the kids coming to get in shape to be Xmen then."

Logan sighed though. He didn't truly get the answers he sought for his past other then how he received his adamantium skeleton. Even if he could remember, it would still be all a large blur in his mind. "I guess some things are better left forgotten."

Kira woke up thanks to all the noise of students from outside her room she wanted to go shout at them but the fact was they were probably new students aswell. Kira pulled herself outta bed and changed in to her usual clothes which where skinny jeans a plain white top with a jacket ontop she pulled her high heeled combat boots out from under her bed an put them on, Kira sorted out her natural beach waves in her hair by putting a little bit of hair clay in it to make it look move wavy she then pulled out her shark tooth knecklace which was the only thing she had left of the shark that attacked her. Before leaving her room she put a little bit of eyeliner and mascara on, Once she had done this she headed outside to be rampadged by a load of students. When she finally arrived at her class after nearly being trampled by other mutants she saw some of her class mates. When she looked up at the celling she saw two students sat on it a girl with pink hair and what seemed to be a guy with his hood up. As she headed for her seat she saw a patch of darkness at the back of the room which she probably thought was a student and a boy sat in the middle. "Hi my name is Kira Danes but people call me Sharky" she said whilst she took her seat next to the window.

Freeze woke up at the wake up call, rubbing his eyes slowly. He got out of bed and walked over to his dresser, pulling out clothes and got dressed quietly. I really hope that I don't freeze anyone or anything today....I would feel bad, he thought to himself as he got dressed and pulled on his sweater and wrapped a scarf aroound his neck. He opened his door quietly and walked out into the hallway, avoiding running into the other students. Freeze walked into a classroom with other students in it, two of which were upside down on the ceiling. Seems as though they can control their powers already..., he thought to himself as he walked over to a desk in the front of the classroom, and out of the sunlight, and sat down quietly. He pulled out a book and started to read quietly.

Dreams offered no solace for the unfortunate Charlie. The insubstantial realm of his mind was plague with same chaos that writhed in his mind during his waking hours. Even in the new shelter of the school of so-called gifted there was no protection from the minds around him. At night his memory rippled and churned like a whirlpool, sucking in the feelings of everyone around. He shared the dreams and nightmares of others in one great madness. So it was his awakening was a slightly relief, escaping from one mental torment to another.

The wash of emotions and feelings from those around him dulled, the fabric between dreams and reality breaking their hold. Yet still the chaos reigned supreme in his mind. He sat in up in his borrowed bed, shaking his head in a valiant effort to dislodge the rogue emotions. He failed again, like almost every other day of his life. The foreign feelings remained firm. He let out a mellow sigh, although it could have seemed angry, bored or any other number of emotions present in the dreams of his fellows. The greatest curse of his 'gift' is that he cannot discern the feelings of others from his own. His own mind isn't his own. For now he was safe, his own feelings were strongest. He settled back against the head of his bed. It was still dark and it seemed the others who shared his dormitory were asleep, the stirred emotions of their dreams reaching him.

He shifted himself out from under the sheets quietly, attempting to get changed without waking the others. In the darkness his grey eyes had difficulty picking out things so it took him longer then usual. Yet he managed it and carefully left the room in bare feet. The great empty corridors of the great mansion were empty. Yet hardly silent, as he walked past door after door Charlie felt the dreams press his feelings every which way. Yet for the most part his mind was his own and he revealed in the time of slight peace. He remained awake as the sun arose out of the grand windows and the students were roused in a number of ways. He tried to shut out the waking thoughts, yet even as he tried things were just brought sharper into his mind. He found himself yawning as he felt fatigued, confused at the light and annoyed at being awoken.

The small boy joined the rest of the crowds as they bunched up for the first classes. So many emotions assaulted him they simply became one mass, indistinguishable from one another. He clutched his hand to his as he felt the throbbing of his mind. A headache growing and splitting through his skull. He seriously wanted to get out of the oppressive mass. Yet he didn't want to wait until the crowd cleared or go to classes early. That would bring to much attention to him so he suffered, his chaotic mind a bright beacon for any psychic to pick out as he walked into a already well populated class and found himself a seat near the back where he tried to calm his aching mind. Not noticing the obscene show offs decorating the ceiling, something he would never do with his powers if he had any control.

Chris sat on the front steps of the school. He had been up all night thinking, remembering how he had came to be at the school. He had been wandering around the mountains of Yellowstone. He survived off what he could catch and eat, sometimes even eating his food raw when he had no means to cook it. He had been hunting one morning, sneaking up on a deer. Once he was within range he charged, and just as he was about to sink a long knife of bone into the deer, he heard a loud crack, and a searing burn ripped through his chest. He hit the ground hard, seemingly dead. The hunter who shot him and his buddy ran to him, both freaking out and unsure what to do. Chris woke up, his chest slowly closing up. He lifted himself up, his face turning to a snarl. bone bladed ripped out of the underside of his fingers, more bone ripping out from his shoulders. He turned preparing to rip apart the two hunters, both now freaking out trying to run away. He lunged for them, when he felt the sudden change of temperature, the humidity also changed. He stopped and saw the source, a woman with white hair and glowing eyes. The conflict that followed was short, he lunged for the new target, and next thing he knew a bolt of lightning was laying him flat on the ground. Once he was awake again his assailant had offered him an opportunity to learn to control his powers, as well as others who where like him. He looked back at the school, coming out of his daze. He could hear the sounds of students preparing for class. Showering, dressing, talking, and making their way to their classes. Chris stood, joining the flow of students inside.

He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He found his first class and made his way towards it. He tried to avoid bumping any of the other students, as they tended to be a little more fragile them himself. When he finally reached his first class Chris stepped into the large gym, and was struck by something odd, a powerful presence. He looked around, and saw the only other person present, Professor Logan. Chris couldn't explain it, but something about him this man angered Chris. Before he even realized what he was doing, his bone blades ripped through the underside of his fingers, and he began charging the Professor snarling.

Cornelia Wales woke up with a start, sitting up quickly while covering her eyes. She knew it had been a nightmare and should be used to them by now, or so she thought. Nightmares were a regular occurrence for the young blonde teenager. Nightmares that were actually memories, her own and others', that her subconscious played back for her again and again almost as if to see how much she could take.

With a sigh, Memory -- that's what she preferred over her biological name -- got up and changed from her ordinary navy blue pyjama pants and black tank top and put on a white tank top with a maroon long sleeved shirt. She pulled on some clean black yoga pants and found mismatched socks she could wear, purple and blue no less, slipping her black DC shoes with the blue lettering and green laces on her feet a few seconds later. Memory looked at her reflection in her mirror as she brushed through her long blonde hair, her pale blue eyes seeming out of place with her near-white skin.

She tilted her head a little as she heard someone call for the students to wake up and sighed, Memory had hoped she wouldn't wake up so early but it seemed the nightmares wouldn't allow her any extra sleep. After coating her eye lashes with mascara and lining her eyes with eyeliner, Memory was ready to go. Her bag with her binders and books floating easily over to her, now, outstretched hand. She grasped the strap and slung the bag over her shoulder quickly before exiting the room and walking off to her first class with a calm expression on her face. There was no trace of her having any worries in the world.. Or caring about anything either, for that matter.

Memory knew she wouldn't like her class the moment she walked into the classroom. There were others who could control their abilities well, she noticed, but how well would be seen. The blonde girl quickly found a chair to sit in and slid her bag off her shoulder to the ground, her long sleeves covering all but the tips of her pale fingers as her icy blue eyes swept over the room and its occupants.

Logan sensed Chris coming and he leapt and then kicked Chris down on the ground and put him in a headlock. "You know, for someone who lived off the wild for as long as you did, you don't really realize whose in charge here kid. But I don't blame you. I get a little antsy myself when it comes to a fight. I'm Professor Logan, you will address me as Professor or Sir, is that clear?"

Logan knew what it was like to live out on his own but the way Chris did was almost in comparison to the enemy he had to deal with on Liberty Island, Sabertooth. "For a kid though you aren't too bad at rushing at your opponent." He then let go of Chris, knowing that he also asserted his dominance and never meant real harm. "Now are you going to cooperate with me or are we going to get the headmaster to discipline you? I don't think you want to be electrocuted by lightning again."

Waspa had been waiting for this moment since the day that Magneto had found him outside of his small city in Africa. He was alone in a cave slowly growing insane due to his lack of social contact that he had for a few years. Magneto had heard about him and could not pass up the opportunity to find a fellow mutant who hates the evil of the way humans treat mutants. He took him in and clothed him and talked to him about joining his cause. Waspa was eager to join the man who actually respected and accepted him and also to get the revenge for himself and the others like him who were treated so badly for being themselves.

He was awake when the call went out to everyone to meet with with Magneto (He hasn't actually needed sleep since his ability has become active or eaten anything...) so he threw on his hoodie and hurried to hear what he had to say.

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Lucas' mind picked up something strange, well, stranger than normal in this place at least...a mind that was possibly just as confusing and burdened as his own was...there was another psychic here! He almost smiled, he hadn't done that for years now, not a genuine smile at least, and he raised his head trying to find who it was whose mind was so similar to his own, his charcoal-coloured eyes scanning the classroom, eventually finding the source of this unusual mind: a small, dark-haired boy sitting a few seats away.
Lucas tried to get the boy's attention, but he had little success with the normal methods of communication...it was at times like these that he really wished he didn't stutter when he talked, not that he spoke loud, or often enough for that particular problem to be noticed...giving up completly with tryng to talk to the boy, Lucas tried sending out a small mental 'nudge', as he called it, not projection of his thoughts exactly, but like the effect of a light tap on the shoulder. He had only ever done this one other time, and had received a pounding headache for his trouble, much like he was experiencing now in fact...he wanted his pills...he felt like a junkie, and maybe he was, but he needed them as much as he needed his headphones:they kept him sane...

Muse

Brigid awoke to the annoying sound of people talking outside of her room. She gave a glare towards the door as she silently got out of bed. She yawned and stretched as she sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. She definitely wasn't ready for this day to begin. She'd much rather continue to sleep and get up when she was good and ready to get up. She considered laying back down and skipping her first class, but that wouldn't do her any good since she probably wouldn't fall back asleep.

So with that thougbt in mind, Muse decided to get up and ready for the day. She put on a vibrant long and flowy purple skirt with a earth tone grean wrap around her waist. The wrap gad coins and beads on it so it maid noise when she moved. For a top she chose a cream off the shoulders belly shirt that showed off her belly button piercing. She combed out her curly red hair before tying a coral and gold colored scarf in it. She put on many metal and beaded bracelets that also made noise along with some gold hoop earings and a gold anklet. She applied her make up like normal before walking out of her room. She had no shoes on and she liked it that way.

She stood off to the side as people.passed her up while pulling out a piece of paper. She had totally forgotten to look and see what her first class was and when she saw it she regreted not skipping. Gym was her first class and she was not excited about that at all, but what could she do? So with that thought in mind she silently walked to the gym. The sight she saw as she walked in, though, fightened her. Some boy with things protruding out of him was charging for what she guessed was the teacher. She let a small scream escape her lips as she closed her eyes, covered her ears, and backed up against a wall. Out instinct she started singing An Irish Lulluby to calm herself, but didn't think of how it could effect the others in the room. It was a calming song so it very well could calm them and make them a little sleepy, but also her feelings could play a roll in things and since she was fearful it could cause them to become angered at.one another and try to eliminate one another to get rid of what was causing Muse to be fearful. As she thought of these things, she prayed that her powers would capm them rather than cause them to try and kill one another. She understood that her powers were there to try and protect.her, but didn't they realize that if they made the two in the room feal like killing eachother it would make.her feel worse? Her powers were too complex for her to understand, she concluded.

Zephyr woke up quickly, he had always been a light sleeper. He actually couldn't wait to start the day. He quickly got dressed in a simple shirt and trousers making sure not the forget his cross. He reverently hung it around his neck and let the room. His first class was gym which he found a little odd at the beginning of the day but he decided to not let it bother him. He walked into the gym and saw Professor Logan struggling with another kid. Zephyr gave them a quesitoning look. "Is this how we are starting our first class sir? I've never been very good at wrestling, I'm more practiced with a sword."

Maestro sighed as he looked at the bright sky. Sitting on a bench in a large park he rested his feet from constant walking. His black hat hid his face from people that passed by. He didn’t seem to be warm in his black sports jacket. He sighed again. What a boring day. Nothing exciting had happened. “Oh well...Guess it’s a good time to relax” Taking advantage of the bench, he brought up his feet and lay down on the bench. Slightly tilting his hat, he brought his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. A good rest was all he needed. Problem was, Maestro had not noticed the crowed of teenagers gathering in the field. There where tables with food and large speakers. It had not been 5 minutes of sleep when the party started. Startled, Maestro quickly sat up. Cursing in Italien, he looked at the kids. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one annoyed as he saw multiple people leave the park. He smirked. “You wanna hear noise....I’ll show you noise” He looked over at a little girl that was staring at him. She must have noticed his grey skin. Smiling, Maestro brought his hands to his ears. Stunned, the little girl imitated him. Nodding, Maestro stood and held his hat. Fixing it on his head, he let out a scream. The sound that came from his mouth was so loud that it smashed multiple windows and blew up the speakers. Tables flipped over and some students even fell. Veins started popping out around his body and his eyes turned white. Stopping he smirked. He walked up to the frightened kids, tapping the little girl on the head as he passed by. He looked for a second at all the destruction he had caused with a simple scream. “And that my friends...is noise” With that he walked away. He knew the kids looked at him with frightened eyes. He didn’t care...they deserved it.

Once he was far enough from the scene and he was sure he hadn’t been followed, he found a bus and got it. Taking a seat, he pulled on his sleeves and tilted his hat so that no one could see his grey skin, unless they stood really close to him. He wasn’t sure when he would get out. It was quiet here and he needed a rest. After a few attempts, he finally fell asleep. He woke half an hour later when the bus driver hit the brakes. There had been a car that passed on the red light and the bus driver had been forced to brake suddenly. “Guess that’s my stop...” Maestro stood up and walked out. He seemed to be more in the country. He looked around and a road that seemed to be deserted. Meaning that no one seemed to go there. He shrugged and walked unto that road. What he failed to notice was the sign that was covered with dust and vines. “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

"Actually no Mr. Crimson, Mr. Striker here thought it would be funny to show me his ambushing skills, but you go sit down or rest anywhere class will be in session when I blow the whistle." Logan said to Zephyr as he looked around waiting for the other people in his class to get here. "That goes for you too Striker." he noted with a small glare. He knew the kid was tough, but he almost went nuts on him and that is almost never a good sign.

Far away from the conflict between the X-Men and the Brotherhood exists a single mutant to act as a wild card. His name is Terrence Young, and if he had any friends, they would call him Terry, for short. However, the name he goes by the most is his mutant handle, the name that strikes fear into the hearts of street punks all over the city, the name Sniper. The mutant was always a tough guy, someone you wouldn't want to run into in a dark alley. Of course, Sniper does not walk very often. His passion is the motorcycle, and that is what he is often seen riding at breakneck speeds through the city streets.

The thing that turned Terry into a street legend was the discovery of his special ability. He was putting up a game of Monopoly, and a piece of dice fell out. As he went to pick it up, it levitated into his hand as if it were on a wire. With a little experimentation, Terry found that he could manipulate objects with their own energy, though he had more success with small objects than large ones. Sniper practiced his new abilities on street punks, chucking bottles, pipes, and even some dice at them. Terry enjoyed his new power almost as much as he enjoyed riding his motorcycle.

As well as riding them, Sniper has a full-time job as a mechanic in a small motorcycle repair garage in the downtown area. He is a whiz with them, able to fix and ride any make and model like a pro. Right now, he was working on a red and black Harley-Davidson V-Rod that had been totaled in a collision with an SUV. Normally, this thing would be headed for the junkyard, but the owner of the yard, Al Ross, had recommended the owner take it to him before scrapping it forever. Even in Sniper's skilled hands, however, it was proving to be a job. He would practically have to rebuild it from the ground up.

Thankfully, the shop had some surplus parts, and he was able to reconstruct the frame and the gas lines. The only things left to do were to paint it, gas it up, and test drive it before giving it back to the owner, good as new. As Sniper wiped his oily hands on a rag, he thought that he would do that tomorrow. After placing the rag on the table, he headed for a back part of the garage that was hardly ever used. Behind a small shutter sat two bikes, both belonging to the young mechanic. The first was a black Harley-Davidson Night Rod, and the second was a white Sazuki Hayabusa.

The Night Rod was strictly for pleasure cruises, when he wanted to feel the wind in his hair and see the city from a unique perspective. The Hayabusa, on the other hand, was when he wanted to feel his adrenaline race. When the urge to tear through town like a bat out of hell got too strong to resist, he would mount that sucker and gun it for all it was worth. The racing bike was fast enough on its own, but Sniper had added a couple features to really push it to full-throttle. The first was a nitrous oxide tank mounted under the license plate, which could allow him to push that baby up to 200 mph. The second was a hydraulic lift that he had built into it to allow him to jump over spike strips when the police tried to nab him for speeding.

On this night, the urge was descending on him like full moon craziness. He mounted the Hayabusa and kick started her, feeling her purr to life. He ran his hand down the tail pipe, feeling the powerful vibration.
"That's right, girl. We're gonna cut loose tonight."
The headlight came on, and he roared into the night.

Sniper soon had the bike up to sixty mph, and the speedometer continued to climb exponentially every second. He hit a ramp and caught big air, landing on the freeway. By now up to one hundred mph, he hit the nitrous oxide and shot forward like a flash of light. The top speed of the bike was now ripping down the busy freeway like a speed boat through the water, but the experienced motorcyclist kept control. He weaved in and out of traffic, the wind from his passing pushing some cars toward the guard rail. To watch Sniper ride that bike at top speed was like watching the perfect marriage of man and machine, a breathtaking work of art.

Aradia woke up sleepily to the sound of students shuffling to classes. "Oh crap," she said aloud to herself. "I'm gonna miss on my first day!" She hurriedly ran a brush through her tangled mass of hair and brushed her teeth in rapid motion. She lifted water from tap and smiled as it floated in a ball in mid-air. "I'm getting better at it." she said gleefully and washed her face with it. She ran to her closet and quickly pulled on a blue tank top and shorts. She reluctantly slipped on some black flips-flops. Ugh, I hate shoes. she thought. She grabbed her bag and ran out into the mass of students. "Ugh, come'on people move!" she said irritably. She could feel the pipes begin to shake. She took a calming breath and began to weave through the students. She arrived at her class with a few minutes to spare. She looked around at the students that had already arrived there. She saw a few normal-looking ones and then was a bit shocked as she looked at the ceiling. There sat a pink-haired girl and a boy who looked very different. Hmm, well whatever suits them she thought quietly. She took a seat next to a boy with headphones. She didn't want to interrupt his music so she just sat and waited for class to begin.

Chris almost got the male, still unsure why he was attacking him, but before he realized the other, more skilled, fighter had him in a headlock. He ripped at his arms with his boney blades, but it didn't seem to phase him much, excellent pain tolerance. When the man let go, Chris jumped away, and looked at the ground feeling guilty for his behavior. "Sorry, I don't know why I did that. I'm very sorry sir." Chris saw the cuts on his arm begin to heal. He instantly recognized the power, but was even more confused then before. Chris' bone returned to normal, and he turned towards the source of a strange sound. He could feel pressure coming from her voice, and it was real annoying. He glared at the girl, "Shut it!"

Chris went to the back wall and sat down waiting for the other students to come along.

Students continued to file into the room, bringing with them ever more chaos. Already the boy's headache was getting the better of him. He lent on his arms, eyes closed and desperately trying to shut out the mental noise. Of course it still didn't work, like always. The school wasn't even as crowded as the streets of the world used to be. Charlie was a self imposed orphan, he simply couldn't deal with his family. Too afraid of admitting what was wrong with him and betraying his parents he left when he was young. Finding his way on the streets he had learned to live with the pain of the crowds, of the millions of oppressive feelings crushing his own. For so long alone he had felt lonely. He so wanted to fit in with the crowd, to not be so unique. His missed his chance with the cure although there were rumors that it ultimately failed. So with that option gone he was lucky that somehow Storm had found him and her offer to train his powers was the next best thing. He had been one of the earlier arrivals, already at the school several days before the rest of the new students began to flood in.

Charlie's black solitude was interrupted by a sudden flood in his mind. He let out a slight gasp and gripped his forehead. Foreign thoughts broke down everything else, they were clear and strong. Unlike the piecemeal tastes he experienced everyday this was more like he was sharing the undiluted feelings of another. The patterns were similar to his own true feelings, confused, burdened, chaotic. There was a small amount of hope although everything was drowned out. He shuddered, eyes shut tight and lips in a grimace. Unable to control the sudden overload in his mind he felt his head was about to explode. Unknown to himself the pain leaked, spreading out of waves of psychic energy and invading the feelings of those around. His breathing was heavy and weighted as the presence thankfully receded. He didn't look up, seriously hoping that no had paid him any heed. Not that anyone could narrow down the slight ache running through their brains to him.

Lucas felt the backlash from his contact with the other boy, and he bit his lip to stop himself from crying out from the pain it brought him, although a small whimper escaped regardless, as he also felt the effects of the outburst of psychic energy from everyone else in the room. Despite this, he felt incredibly happy that he had gotten through, it pleased him that he could communicate in some way, even if he couldn't speak all that well to other people...

He 'nudged' again, gentler this time, trying to give some impression of his position in the classroom, so that the boy would know who it was that was trying to contact his mind....On the right, three seats away..., he tried to implant his psychic touch with this information, earning himself another wave of pain from his rapidly growing migrane. He kept trying though, if only to let this other psychic know that he wasn't alone in his pain, as Lucas felt that pain also, he knew it well, had done his whole life...