10022/Stranger Things

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Stranger Things
Date of Scene: 12 November 2019
Location: Club Evolution, Mutant Town
Synopsis: Jay and Andrea discover a mutant teen living on the streets. With permission, they bring him to Xavier's for an overnight stay and to help him see there are people willing to help in the world.
Cast of Characters: Icarus, Rage, Haunt, Storm




Icarus has posed:
The wee hours of the morning are when Club Evolution finally closes down for the night. It's about 2:30 a.m. Tonight had been one of the slower nights but that didn't mean the place wasn't packed. It just meant there wasn't a line queued up waiting to get in.

Most of the patrons are gone, leaving only the staff. And friends of staff, who sometimes got to hang out until people got out officially for rides home or after work socializing.

Jay had been working tonight, with is wings out for once since someone seemed to like them that way when she was around. Thus he was in baggy jeans and a white tank top, red wings folded behind him as he finished up gathering the leftovers in the kitchen. This was his routine. He would get all the leftovers boxed up in to-go containers and take them to the back alley where he would meet with the local homeless and pass it out. It was bar food, nothing fancy, but it was hearty and helped fill stomachs. On his nights off, one of the other bussers did it.

He opened the back door and pushed the little wheeled cart out the backdoor, piled with to-go boxes. "Hey y'all," he called out, knowing who was normally there. "Sorry I'm a little late tonight but here we go."

Rage has posed:
It's late, but when you're a world famous celebrity such as Andrea Jackson, 2:30 in the morning may as well be 1 in the afternoon for her. As usual when she comes out to go dancing, she is dressed to kill. Tonight the young mutant popstar is wearing a black dress with spaghetti straps that hits above the knee, thigh high boots and her hair pulled up into a high pony tail. She is glistening with a hint of sweat from a night of pounding music and using her body as a weapon amongst the throng of dancers.

In need of fresh air, and always looking to meet more of the mutant community, she follows after Jay to help him out. As someone deeply involved in charity, she is always taking the opportunity to try and meet the youngest mutants that may hang about the club.

And being that Jay is a celebrity in his own way, she will bolster his reputation by wrapping an arm around him from behind, propping her chin on his shoulder. "Hello."

Haunt has posed:
If Jay is familiar with the usual people that come to eat, this is most certainly a newcomer. This is an aerial arrival, as well.

The figure is hovering, approximately eight feet off the ground, at the side of the alley by the building. They're not in a shadows; just hanging up there. They are dressed in a black oversized hoodie, the hood up, the sleeves long enough to cover hands: the sleeves are curled in and under, like the figure has grasped the lengthy bottoms of the hoodie to make fists inside the warm hoodie fabric. Sweatpants are 'homeless chic', gray and stained, and each sock is a different color: one gray, one navy. With the hood oriented as it is, the head and face of the figure is entirely in shadow.

Said figure lurks off to one side, tentatively, up out of the way of others. Body language is uncertain, arms crossing against the long front hoodie pocket, observing, and quiet for the moment.

Icarus has posed:
"Hey, Tony. Got cheese fries. I know they're your favorite." Jay passes over a container to a mutant man with bright orange skin and green hair. If he was shorter, he'd look like an Oompa Loompa. As it stands, he's just a guy down on his luck who lives on the streets.

When Andrea comes up behind him, Jay puts his hand on hers briefly then goes back to work handing out things. "Jeff. Maria." He knows the all by name. Those who have shared, he knows their stories. They all wait, knowing he will have something for them. They don't all run off as soon as they get their food. Jay usually has extra, in case there are new people. And if there are no new people? The regulars get more.

Seeing the hovering figure, he gives a smile in that direction, holding up a styrofoam container. "Got some nachos here if you like those? Otherwise we got chicken tenders, chili cheese fries, plain baked fries for my vegan clientele." Yes, he has one of those.

Rage has posed:
"Everyone likes nachos." Andrea says as she lets go of Jay after giving him a playful squeeze about the hip. She will smile and introduce herself to a few of Jay's regulars, glad to have a chance to meet them and see a bit more of Jay's world.

If there is any kids, they will get the most attention from her, critically trying to determine if they are 'okay' or not. As the face of the Starlight House charity, a mutant suicide hotline, she is always looking for the signs of abuse or malnutrition.

Haunt has posed:
The dumpster in the alley is making some strange sounds, as if squirrels were moving around inside it, some of the loose papers and plastic bags and similar things start to spin and churn, a paper box flips out of the dumpster. Some loose trash in the alley reacts similarly; the strange wind is just a little weird.

The hovering figure doesn't just sit up there when Jay calls to him. "/Vegan/?" asks the floater, surprised, and judgey. Just one word clears up a lot: floating figure is a teenage boy. The voice and tone make it clear. "What is that, Avacado toast?" Brad the floater wonders, amused.

Andrea gives her opinion, and Brad agrees: "Everyone does. I like nachos /and/ chili fries," adds the boy, immediately coming down. He stays away from the others, on the left end, and keeps the hood down entirely. It's a normal thing for freaky looking mutants to do, though: hide.

Icarus has posed:
The smart comment gets an actual laugh from Jay. "Nah, those are too fancy for this place. We just have your regular bar snacks. Mostly got stuff that's deep fried and really bad for you. But it's still hot and it'll fill your stomach."

The way the wind is rising is strange but Jay just makes a mental note of it and doesn't really worry too much. It's an alley. Sometimes the wind comes down and there are weird zephyrs.

Hiding is par for the course for a lot of the mutants. Now that Jay has started coming out with his wings on display, they are more likely to have their hoods back or hair out of their face to be better seen. It's a little thing but it is progress. Glancing at Andrea, Jay offers her a box of chili fries and nachos, letting her take them to the new guy if she wants while he continues passing out to regulars. There are quite a few of them.

"My name's Jay. This is Andrea."

Rage has posed:
As she takes the food from Jay, Andrea makes her way down the alley, moving with an air of confidence in her posture. As she holds the food out for him, her heightened senses give an instinctual 'twitch' in the back of her mind, as if she was listening quite carefully. Maybe to the new guy's heartbeat, or the way he breathes.

"Hey there." She says as she passes the food over to him, brows lifting as her eyes stare straight into his hoodie as if to try and see the man's features. "I hope you enjoy. Mary makes some kick ass food in the kitchen."

Haunt has posed:
"Jay with the wings. Andrea with the... Jay." The way Brad says it, it's a type of way of remembering, for him. He'll remember their names, or at least try to. His tone isn't timid: it is a bit loud if anything. "Brad. Hi. I'm a fan of things that are bad for me, so let's bring that on," answers Brad. His angle hood means he's probably staring down at the ground, there hasn't been any attempt to peek at Jay or Andrea. Which means his face is impossible to see. Andrea, being shorter than he is by a little bit, may be able to catch that there is /nothing/ in the hood. He doesn't dodge. He sounds and smells normal, even if his heart rate is up in 'very nervous' rate.

"Hi. It's in the box?" Brad asks, clearly keying in on the object that Jay handed to Andrea. Overly-long sweatshirt-covered hands reach for the box. There's noise from inside the food box, just like the dumpster: like a squirrel is in there trying to eat them.

Icarus has posed:
It might seem strange that Jay sends Andrea to talk to the stranger. But to be honest? If the guy turned out to be a nut and wanted to attack someone? She'd be better equipped to do the protecting. Not that he expected there to be any problem. There never had been out here. Once a newcomer had flipped out when they recognized Andrea but that was the most excitement there had been.

Hearing the sound now coming from in the box, Jay looked over curiously. It hadn't been making those noises a moment ago. And it sounded like the dumpster had, which was not the normal rat noises although they were regulars back here too. Just stayed out of the way when all the people were around. "Since your'e new, you can go ahead and have both. Normally it's a box per until we make sure everyone gets something then we go doubles if we can."

Rage has posed:
That much is true. Andrea is a tank, Jay is the support. As she passes the box over, she pulls her hands back slowly. "Yes, the food is in the box. You should calm down. Your heart rate is out of control and /she/ gets jittery around people that make her nervous." Who is this 'she' the popstar may be talking about?

"So, Brad -- are you making the stuff around here rattle and swish? Wind powers?" She asks, her voice still calm and soft, with a musical lift to it. She holds her ground in the alleyway before him, tilting her head a bit to try and peek into his hoodie. Most predators don't care much for personal space.

Haunt has posed:
"I'm not starving," Brad says, with some defensive pride. Coming out to this free food thing may have been hard for him. His nervousness increases. "I'm not gonna take double food from starving people," he says, and puts the box on the ground, as Andrea had just given it to him. The sounds from it stop when Brad pulls his hands away, but the box itself is sloooowly rotating. The rest of the alley is getting a bit more intense. There's lots of little noises all around, from the slightly moving objects. It's a windy alleyway.

"'She'?" Brad asks Andrea. He's getting more uncomfortable, not less, and it comes into his voice. He doesn't avoid her peeking: there is nothing in that hoodie. Brad apparently has no head. "Yeah, I'm doing that. I move stuff. So what." He's defensive, unsure if he's being threatened: the challenge is that of a mutant defending his freakish attributes.

Icarus has posed:
Jay was wondering about the she too. He knew Andrea's powers but he wasn't used to her referring to her other part as a different entity. Something to ask about later. He frowned a little as he passed out the last box. "You aren't taking anything from anybody. Got extras tonight. Everyone will get more that wants it."

He eyes the box and the way the wind is spinning. "Help yourself, folks." He moves to walk a little closer to Andrea and the new guy but not anywhere close to in his space like the woman is doing. No predatory lack of boundaries for him. "Moving things with your mind? That's a great power. You doing this on purpose then? Making it all rattle?"

Rage has posed:
"It's cool. I wish I had neat powers like that." Andrea says in a soft voice to him. "Seriously though, take a deep breath and steady yourself. You're amongst friends here in mutant town. Jay and I are here to help out, so you don't need to bolt or freak out. Enjoy the food." She gives him a Hollywood smile, stunning with bright white teeth, then turns and heads back down the alley back to Jay as she picks out another box to hand to another needy pair of hands to make conversation with. She won't crowd the new guy any more than she already had.

Haunt has posed:
Brad crosses his arms again, and drifts up into the air about four feet up and three feet backwards. It's defensive more than a show. However, that the food box lifts off the floor and drifts towards Jay as Brad rejects it: that's a show. There's obvious telekinetics or wind powers going on. And some uncomfortable pride about stealing from hungry people.

"Not the rattling," Brad admits, though. Once he's safely up in the air, he seems to calm more. The general rattling reduces, as does his heart rate. He's just scared.

"I haven't come to one of these before."

Icarus has posed:
"It's no big deal," Jay says as he catches the box that was floating to him. The guy had some control but the rattling was still strange. "I work here at the club. Bus tables. My brother owns it so yay for nepatism. Anyway, we just try to give back. Most of us who work here are mutants too. In my case, obviously." He gives that easy smile as he half unfurls his wings then lets the flutter back down to a folded position behind him.

"We all need help sometimes. You shouldn't feel bad about it. Back home, I have nine siblings. Needless to say, times were hard. We got assistance from the state and I had to go to work pretty early to help support. It's nothing to be ashamed of, needing help. Just when you can give more, pass it on to the next person that needs it. Simple."

Rage has posed:
"I'm a mutant also." Andrea says just in case the man doesn't recognize her. Being a celebrity on TV is different than meeting one in person. Why would anyone think that a global star such as herself would be in an alley serving up food to the homeless? Either way, she has no external mutations, so whatever she can do is anyone's guess. Even the world doesn't know.

Her fingers run up along Jay's back gently as she leans in against his shoulder, bobbing her head. "Very simple." She agrees with the angel. "Are you new here to New York?" She asks him curiously.

Haunt has posed:
Brad comes back down, he lands again, back where he was. Having some personal space and the conversation seems to have done a lot. Or knowing they are mutants did a lot. He may just be uncomfortable with being crowded, or maybe with people close enough to see under his hood. He still appears to be staring at the ground.

"I come here sometimes when I can't stand being at home," Brad answers, his shoulders move, and he flips his hands over, seeking out pants pockets, but not finding them in this pair of sweats. He's used to jeans, the gesture says. He puts his hands in his hoodie pocket instead, rocks on his heels once. His socks are disgusting.

He moves aside to let another person with food that is leaving go past him with plenty of room. He also seems to change his mind about the box: he approaches Jay slowly, in a 'cool' teen walk. The inside of the nachos rattle again for some reason.

Icarus has posed:
That earns a look from Jay to Andrea. Maybe a runaway then. That's never good. He has to wonder if it is because of parents being unable to accept their child's mutation. It's an immediate thought and a concern.

He changes focus to the box when it starts to rattle. He can't help himself. He opens the top to look inside, see what is going on in there. He makes it look like he's doing it to show Brad the contents though. "Looks like you've been on the streets for a bit." The clothes and those socks. "If you need, there's a shelter just up the street at the church. They are welcoming to mutants. I mean, I'm assuming you're a mutant like us at least. Ma always told me that I shouldn't assume. Makes a...well, you likely know the phrase."

Rage has posed:
As she listens to him, Andrea seems to be happy that Jay is taking the lead here. He seems to have made a rapport. She is also glad he is opening up that box of nachos and so help everyone in this alley if roaches or rats suddenly leap out. She makes small talk with a few other mutants as she passes out food, though her keen ears are trained on the other two.

Haunt has posed:
The nachos leap out of the box, and flutter around like an explosion of confetti. "Shit," Brad says aloud. There's no surprise. This just happens. He pauses, stopping what he's doing. The nachos come back into the box, like little cheesey birds. He actually comes over close now to Jay, pulls a sleeve back to reveal nothing, and reaches into the box. Brad's hands are invisible, so it looks very, very strange. "Am I wearing something weird?" Brad asks, suddenly oddly paranoid. Like he forgot to wear pink on Wednesday. But he wanted that nacho. It 'floats' to up under the hoodie. Crunchcrunch. "I camp in hotel rooms and stuff. I mean. Unless there's a cop here. Then I don't," Brad says. His humor is sudden and uneven, like his worry. He's just very stressed out. Hungry. Cold. In an alley in New York's mutant town in socks.

He's not at his best.

"Yeah, I'm one of 'those'." He avoids the word. It's a dirty word. Dirtier than 'shit'.

Icarus has posed:
As the nachos fly into the air, Jay starts a bit and almost drops the box. Until he realizes that Brad is calm as can be and apparently used to this. Then the food returns to the box and the teen approaches.

No hand. There is the sleeve, like it is on an arm. Things are starting to click together. His concern with his appearance. He might not have one. If he is that way all over. "Probably nicer than a shelter," Jay notes verbally as he looks at that lack of hand then up toward the hood. How does the guy not know what he is wearing looks like?

"You're wearing some socks I would burn at the first opportunity. Sweatpants could use some help too but not quite as bad. Something happen to your shoes?" he asks curiously. "I also don't mean to be rude. I'll tell you my info first though before I ask. I have the wings, can fly. Healing for myself only which sucks in ways I can't explain. And I have some fancy voice powers. I'm guessing you have telekinesis and...you're invisible? And can you see?"

Haunt has posed:
"Naw, I have the Emperor's New Powers. Only worthy people can see me," Brad deadpans, around the sound of eating the nachos. "If you're wondering if I can see myself: I am unworthy," he continues, with some weird sarcasm. If he makes fun of himself first, it's harder for others to do it. He's settled into standing there and eating the nachos, though. "I also try not to think about how gross my hands are. I don't carry Purell," Brad says.

"Yeah, I had to take my shoes off, and I lost them," Brad answers conversationally. Slightly less normal, more defensiveness. "I know how weird I am, for reference. Your wings seem neat. What color are they?"

All of the wind in the area has calmed down. Nothing is rattling, anymore.

Rage has posed:
As she listens, Andrea furrows her brows. "So you are blind? Like you can't see anything at all, or ... you can't seem certain things?" She probes curiously as she runs her hands back through her hair once she tugs the ponytail free. "Which is also why you probably don't recognize me?"

Icarus has posed:
"Hands aren't as big of an issue probably. We pay closer attention to what we touch with those than we do where we are stepping. And the steets of New York? Not a good place to be without shoes."

He glances over at Andrea's question then nods. "You knew there was a box. You can tell where people are around you. But you can't see my wings? Color blind or can't see anything? Oh, and they are red. Like a real red, not like a ginger. My hair matches them."

Haunt has posed:
"Are you famous?" Brad parries Andrea's question with his own. "I can tell where you are," he says, clearly sticky about this point. He pulls out a clump of nachos and starts to peel them apart. It looks interesting, like a floating blob of nachos that is turning and dismantling itself into pieces that disappear into the hood one at a time. Brad's an interesting show, at least.

"I can tell you have wings, Jay," Brad says, uncomfortable but not tense. "I'm not helpless. I can sense with my mind instead. It's fine. I'm /super/ good-looking, though, while we're on the topic." There's a grin in Brad's voice.

Rage has posed:
"You can say that. I'm Andrea Jackson. Grammy nominated and mutant popstar. I was on Disney for a bit as a kid. I also run the Starlight House, which is a charity and safe house for young mutants. Suicide crisis line also. If you're in a situation I have resources that can help you out. Can get you a place to stay, food, direction." Andrea says as she reaches out to slide her hand into Jay's for support, giving his fingers a squeeze.

Icarus has posed:
When he takes a bite of a nacho and half of it just hovers there in the air until he tosses it in his mouth too, Jay finds himself just staring. For a very long time. He has to force himself not to watch cause he might embarass the poor guy.

"So you sense stuff but without seeing it. That's pretty amazing, Brad. Even without knowing you're good looking," Jay adds with a soft laugh. "I made sure to cover Andrea's ears when you said that." Though Brad knows he did no such thing and he's obviously joking. "Just to be safe."

He squeezed Andrea's hand in his own the mouthed the word 'Xavier's' to her with a questioning lookon his face. Not that they could take him there. They'd have to get approval from staff. And Brad might not even want to go.

Haunt has posed:
"/Oh/," Brad says, reacting now. His head came up, but yeah, there's no face or head to look at. But Andrea's identity startled him out of hiding. "Really?! I know exactly who that is. Who you are. I've heard your music. Sure. I'm not sure I believe it's actually you, no offense. And you definitely won the lottery on powers and awesome life, then." Brad pauses, as if unsure how to react to her.

"I was gonna go somewhere, too. But I'm f'd. So yay." He clears his throat.

"I don't need---" ....

"Suicide Hotline?! I'm not suicidal!!" The alley explodes in wind, as if an angry crew of spirits just dive bombed the situation. Everything in the dumpster is airborne in a swirl of papers and boxes and old food and containers. There's sharp metal pieces, there's glass. It's not good. Other people, if they are still there, are probably going for cover. It's a telekinetic storm.

"I am NOT."

Rage has posed:
Taking a step back, Andrea pulls Jay behind her quickly. "I didn't say that you were. I just said that I have a hotline through my charity." She speaks a bit louder over the noise of the alley. "I was letting you know that my charity can /help/ you in many ways." She heard what Jay said, but right now she keeps her focus on Brad.

"And it's definitely me. I'm really hands on with the community and Mutant Town. It means a lot to me that I can give back when I can." She squeezes Jay's hand again, then snorts at him. "You jealous or something?"

Icarus has posed:
As she moves to protect him, Jay is doing the same for the people behind him. His wings spread out behind him, a wide enough span to cover from one side of the alley to the other. It protects the people who were behind him as they took off for the hills. It left the three of them alone at least.

Even as he ducked his head down, he raised his voice for Andrea. "You shoudl be behind me. I heal, remember?" Even as some glass and metal sliced into his wings. Nothing major, just minor scratches.

"She's just saying there are resources through the group. It isn't just for suicidal people. Guessing your powers are linked to your emotions though!"

Haunt has posed:
Sometimes when you're wrong, and realize you're wrong, you still have to kind of commit to the wrongness of it. And the anxiety of everything isn't really helping with the out of control kinetic storm of things. The dumpster isn't lifted and flung, but it does rattle against the wall, the door to the club is yanked, windows rattle, some loose brick tumbles and then whips into the mess. Brad pulls the box of nachos at himself with a wrench of telekinesis, and backs away with it, twisting sideways to put his back against a wall. He slides down it to sit, hugging his nacho box.

Things fall out of the air, drop to the ground, as the poltergeists around them seem to disappear. A few things get flung again, here and there, but the most of it reduces.

There isn't a lot he can say about what just happened, so he just eats his nachos, humiliated.

Rage has posed:
"You can defend my honor on the dance floor, not in times like this." Andrea says behind her shoulder to Jay, trying to add some levity despite the fact she's in 'serious' mode right now as she stares at the floating pile of clothing. As the glass cuts through the air and stings her skin, she ignores the bite of the wounds as she knows they will seal soon enough.

When it's all over, she lets out a breath, thankful she didn't have to use her own powers to stop him. "Brad, it's okay." She says softly to him, picking a piece of glass out of her shoulder. Her poor dress is torn in a few places now. Oh well. "How old are you by the way?"

Icarus has posed:
Jay doesn't resist as the nacho box floats away. It is more controlled, not the frenetic flight of the other things in the alley. He watches it float to Brad who then sinks down with it. "I'm not jealous," he mutters to Andrea. "Yet."

Then he moves to close the distance between him and Brad, wings folded behind him once more. There are a few spots of blood but he knows his body will reject anything in there and then heal them over. Certainly it stings but it won't be there for more than a few minutes.

"Brad. It's okay. We were all scared when we first got our powers. Well, most of us. There's very few people who aren't. It throws our world upside down and inside out. And sometimes we want to escape from that."

He had pinged in on something. No one got that upset over someone suggesting they were suicidal unless they had considered it before. Or still were. He should know, of all people. "Trust me. I've tried. Multiple times. Remember that whole healing sucks as a power thing? So I understand that but I also know that there is hope." He looks over at Andrea then quickly back to Brad. "It shows up in the most surprising places when you least expect it." He tried to reach out a hand to rest on Brad's arm. "Let us help you. Call some folks. See if you can go to the place we have as a refuge from all of this."

Haunt has posed:
Brad's hiding, to some degree. Shame, probably. He's pulled his hoodie down and forwards, pulled the cords on it so that it's doing something of a 'Kenny' from southpark, just open enough to insert chips. Except that he's not eating them right now, he's just quietly sitting there. He doesn't jump when touched, though Jay may feel a funny breeze against him, it doesn't push Jay away or anything.

Still, Brad's shifted mostly non-verbal. Andrea's question does get a reply, though he thought about it for a while. "Sixteen."

"Nobody would even /notice/ if I were gone, so. Not so much really," Brad laughs. His laugh is forced. Invisible people problems. He reaches down and picks at his gross socks with one hand, putting the nacho box aside next to his hip. He pulls his sleeves over his hand. From afar, for now, Brad just looks like a teen hiding in a big hoodie, in his gross sweatpants and mismatched socks.

Rage has posed:
"I'm seventeen." Andrea says as she takes out her phone, then dials the Xavier's 'batphone', aka, the number that a staff member would have direct access to. It's three in the morning, but surely someone is up. Maybe Logan, if he's sober. Who is on duty tonight? She can't remember. She walks away from the pair of them as she holds the phone up to her ear.

Icarus has posed:
"I'm seventeen too," Jay adds, keeping his hand on Brad's arm. It is more to have that human contact, so that the teen knows he is not alone. He has the feeling that is key right now.

"I'm pretty sure someone would notice. Just cause you aren't visible doesn't mean you don't exist. Your parents are probably wondering where you are right now." Since he is pretty sure Brad's a runaway. It's all just bits and pieces they got in conversation and he could be completely wrong too.

"You want something to drink? Andrea can grab something for you." That would allow her to make the phone call without being overheard too. "A bottle of water would probably be best, being on the streets. Got to stay hydrated."

Storm has posed:
The emergency phone line rings once and is picked up. "Staff lounge, this is Ororo," comes a cultured alto voice from the other side of the line. Ororo sets aside her knitting and sits up in the chair, focusing the whole of her attention on the murmuring conversation coming from New York to the Institute.

After Andrea explains the situation, Ororo deliberates for a few seconds. Sky blue eyes turn to the list of staff and students on site. "Yes," she concludes, finally. "If you are making the call, I will support you." A tacit warning to be vigilant, but also not missing a chance to let a younger student make a command decision. "Try to be vague as possible until you get here. Just in case. Good-bye," she bids her, and hangs up the staff phone.

"I suppose I should set the kettle on," Ororo grimaces, and forwards the phone to her cell so she can pad into the kitchen.

Haunt has posed:
"I used to play sports. I know about hydrating," Brad says, defensive yet again. But he didn't say no. Everything said to the teen seems to set him off in one direction or another. Everything is an attack. Teenage boy amplified by his situation and mutation makes for a funky cocktail.

Brad pulls the box of nachos back around and picks in it with his fingers. It just looks like the nachos are twitching. They're cold now, congealed. Still decent, but a little soggy. "I can't play football anymore," Brad confides to Jay, a scowl in his tone. Like that's the worst of his problems, somehow. Teenager priorities.

"Want any of my cold nachos?" Effort is there. In a quiet way.

Rage has posed:
Make the decision, huh? With great power comes great shotcalling abilities. Andrea hangs the phone up and puts it back into her purse, then heads back towards Jay and Brad as she listens to them.

"Jay, I spoke with Ororo on the phone. Can I talk to you for a moment?" She asks as she gives a tilt of her head to him and then off to the side.

Icarus has posed:
"Brad, promise you won't go anywhere and I'll get you something hot instead. And that water. Bet I have some chili I can heat up." Only when he has gotten at least a nod from the hooded bundle of clothes will he move.

He moves to meet up with Andrea. "What's up? I'm going to get some of the leftover chili from inside and heat it up. We usually use it for two days but it'll be fine. He needs something hearty and some water."

Haunt has posed:
Brad heard everything that Andrea said. And his jump of logic is that they are figuring out something for him, like a shelter. Sometime like that. Ororo must be an organizer. "Yeah, talk amongst yourselves," Brad answers with a grand motion of handless sleeve, trying to joke.

He doesn't go anywhere while they debate, at least not at first, he eats his congealed chips. He's hungry.

Rage has posed:
Curling her arms about Jay's neck, Andrea brings him in closer, giving him a lazy smile. Then, she leans forward slowly, brushing her mouth against his ear as she whispers. "Ro' says if we think he's not a threat, we can bring him to the school to evaluate, but don't give away any clues. I can bring the car around. It's your call though. He obviously needs help." She sways with the angel side to side, because nothing is more romantic than slow grooving in an alley.

Icarus has posed:
There is no hesitation. "Get the car brought around. I'm getting chili and water for him. Then we'll get him to go with, hopefully." His voice is a whisper to her then he gives her an little rub of nose on nose, Eskimo kisses as his Ma called the, despite that non PC name for it. It was still a cute gesture and showed affection.

Then he was off to the kitchen, leaving the door wide open. "You could just come in here." He yelled out. He pulled out a large bowl of chili and dished out an oversized portion into a bowl. This was put in the microwave and nuked. Cheese was added and nuked again.

It was less than three minutes and he was back with the steaming bowl of chili and a bottle of water. "Here we go. Now, if you will let us, I would like to take you to that place I mentioned. It's a safe place for people like us. Gonna be a bit of a ride but I think you'll like it once you are there. Can get you a room of your own, some fresh clothes, shoes too."

Haunt has posed:
Brad didn't entirely go inside, but he did come to the doorway to hang out just inside it where it's warmer. He didn't go roving inside to go find Jay, though, he stayed with his escape hatch. Still, he accepts the food with reasonable politeness: there is a thank you, and appreciation for the heat. He puts the bottle into the pocket of his hoodie.

"I mean, we can check it out," Brad accepts, in his surly teenager way. "Is it for mutants, or am I gonna get stared at?" Brad asks. Still, he will go with them. He doesn't act weird in the car ride, aside from being opinionated about what music they put on (he likes rock), and not looking out the windows at all.

Rage has posed:
Having pulled up a brilliant white BMW with heavy tinted windows and black rims, Andrea drove the trio back home and parked her vehicle in the garage. After texting Ororo and finding out where she will be at, she leads the pair into the library. "We're here." She calls out in a tired manner, rubbing at her eyes with her knuckles. Hollywood celebrity she may be, it /is/ crazy late in the morning and her coffees has expired quite a bit ago. "Ororo, this is Brad."

Haunt has posed:
Brad is agitated. And it follows him around into the mansion like a cloud of mild mayhem. Everything rattles: windows, door handles, chairs, picture frames: you name it, it's reacting a little. It's particularly evident in a library: there are LOTS of objects to rattle. The books tremble, lean, and move. Some of them leave the shelves and fall on the floor. It's very, very clearly a telekinetic (or ghosts?).

Storm has posed:
The library's already set to recieve them. When they enter Ororo's standing in the center of the seating cluster of sofa and chairs with a pleasant expression and her palms pressed together in front of her waist. The saree she wears is black with wild white stripes, leaves one shoulder bare and spilling extra fabric down her other arm. Her white hair's been straightened and curls past her shoulders.

Ororo steps over to greet the teens as they arrive. "Andrea, Jay. I'm glad you're home." A warm smile is given to both of them.

"And you must be Brad." Her attention turns to the nervous young man. A hand is extended for a polite handshake. "I am Ororo Munroe. I'm one of the professors here. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" There's a little serviette uncovered to reveal hot cocoa, water for tea, teabags (a concession to American customs), and a little stack of quartered sandwiches. They look freshly made. "Would anyone care for tea, or cocoa? I thought it might be a bit late for coffee, but I can put some on," she offers, with the elegant grace of a cultured host welcoming a guest.

Icarus has posed:
"Brad, it's okay. This is where I stay. They've been able to help me a lot with my powers and, more importantly, with my personal issues." The ones he mentioned that don't need to be spelled out again. Jay hopes that the reassurance might help calm the other teen. Otherwise, those books might start flying instead of just shaking and falling. Maybe they should've met outside. Away from stuff.

He does take a moment to head for the service. "Cocoa sounds great. It was cold out tonight. You want one, Brad? Anyone else?"

Rage has posed:
"I would love some tea, thank you ma'am." Andrea says politely as she gives her hair a bit of a shake. The wounds along her arms have finally healed, though her incredible black dress has tears along the fabric. She'll have to get this fixed. Heading over to a seat, she settles down gracefully, folding one leg over the knee, then places her hands on top of it.

"This is where we both stay at. This is a safe place for mutants, and Miss Munroe is one of our friends. You can trust her." Her head tilts over to the white haired woman, offering up a bright, but tired smile.

Haunt has posed:
A handshake with Brad is strange right now, just in that his hoodie is so long that his hand is lost in it somewhere. By touch, though, he feels like he has normal hands: despite being sort of awkward to shake hands with a hand that's inside a long sleeve, anyway. He's doing the shying thing physical mutants do: keeping his hood way forward and narrowed, to hide in. "Yeah, I'm Brad. I'd like hot cocoa, yeah. Hi." His voice and inflection is very teenage boy.

Never mind the floating books. It's not an insane storm, but there /are/ books floating around near the ceiling now, amid bits of rattling from the shelves now and then.

"What are you a professor of?" Brad asks, from his hoodie-hiding place. He's stayed on Jay's side; he doesn't go find a place to sit, nor seem to react when Andrea takes a seat. He did in fact find rapport with the winged mutant.

"I'm sorry about the... the noise." The rattling and floating books. It reduces, though Brad moves one hand out to grope near Jay's elbow, seeking it blindly. Something to steady on. He steps forward with a lurch when Jay leaves to go to the service, but doesn't follow. He just drops his hand, and stands awkwardly in his gross socks on the nice carpet, toes moving a little bit in the squishy socks. Awkwardness causes more telekinetic motion again. It's like a strange pulse in the room.

Storm has posed:
"Don't mind the books," Ororo soothes. She shakes Brad's wrist/hand/sleeve and returns to her calm poise, fingers interlaced loosely in front of her hips. "I am sure you would not be doing it if you could. You seem like a gracious guest. Please, don't mind the carpet-- would you like to sit in front of the fire?" she invites, and starts nudging Brad towards a suitable seat with a mystifying lack of intrusion into his personal space. "Jay-- if you'd fetch a towel or two, I'm sure he's not the only one who needs to dry off," Ororo requests of the mutant.

Once Brad is more or less situated she pours him some hot cocoa and offers it in a warm mug, handle first. There's even a dollop of proper whipped cream on it. "Most of us wear several hats. I'm teaching History and Language this year," she explains to Brad. "I also run the school's horticulture program."

Drinks are prepared and set out for Andrea and Jay. Ororo returns to the chair near the fire and leans over to delibetately scoot the tray of sandwiches closer to Brad, and flashes an encouraging smile at him. "Eat. I have never known anyone your age to not be constantly hungry."

Ororo finds a high-backed chair and seats herself, stiff-backed and with a regal propriety. Much like Andrea, she crosses her legs and rests her hands on her lap. "If the food doesn't suit, I'm sure we can find something else for you. Where are you from, Brad?"

Icarus has posed:
When he realizes that Brad didn't follow, Jay felt a pang of guilt for leaving him behind. He knew the challenges Brad was facing, the least of which was being in a strange place, surrounded by mostly strangers. "I'll be right back."

He rushes off to do as Ms. Munroe asked, finding some dry towels. He even tosses them in the dryer to warm them up so they are nice and toasty.

It will be a few minutes before he makes it back but when he does, he's immediately there beside Brad. If he was still standing, he'd help guide him over by the fire. If he was sitting, Jay would sit near him and offer up a dry, warm towel. He would make sure he spoke before touching Brad's arm though, not wanting to startle him. "Ma used to heat 'em up for us when we got caught in the rain on the way home from school. Thought it might feel nice."

Rage has posed:
Giving a polite thank you to Ororo, Andrea takes the tea and samples it for a small sip. Tilting her head over to Brad on the couch, she says, "You can take your socks off if you want, and we will get you fresh ones, and shoes as well. Wet socks is how you get sick." She has a marine for a mother, it's one of the first laws of war.

Haunt has posed:
"I have dumpster diver on me, I know," Brad asks, self-conscious, with a lift of his sleeves. "I'm not always disgusting." That was needed to be added. The swirling trash and his life of the past few days hasn't been clean. His focus on being aware of his state suggest he didn't come from there, or isn't constantly on the street. Jay's guess is very likely: a runaway. One that knows when he's dirty: it isn't his constant state. Between Ororo and Jay, Brad sits in front of the fire with his new warm towel, and the sandwiches now near him. "Thanks Jay." He sits for a little bit with the warm towel over his hands and feet, drawing his hands out of the sleeves under the cover of the towel, using it to rub both warmth into his hands and yuck off of them.

"My parents live in Vermont," Brad answers Ororo's question. "I live sort of wherever."

Socks, huh. "All right," Brad accepts Andrea's word. Under the towel there's some movement as he peels the socks off. They emerge out the bottom of the towel to the side, and he wraps his feet in the towel. Brad gives up a little on hiding entirely, though, because he draws his hands out from the towel, and takes a sandwich. Brad's invisible under his clothes, so it looks somewhat interesting, like a hovering sandwich at the end of a dismembered sleeve.

Brad knows it's weird, there's a sound of him clearing his throat, but he proceeds anyway, to insert sandwich into hoodie-hole, and eat.

Storm has posed:
"Dumpsters are not meant for people to dive in," Ororo says. The tone of her voice expresses empathy, as if she relates to his struggle on a personal level. "Fortunately, we can at least make sure you have a shower and clean set of clothes. It's the least we can do for dragging you out to Westchester." Ororo nods at Andrea and Jay, clearly throwing her support behind their decision.

"You'll find more than a few people who came here after spending time fending for themselves. Myself included. This is a safe place," she assures him. "If it's not prying-- may I ask how you found yourself in such dire straits? There is no judgement here, I promise. If you want nothing more than a warm bed and some hot food, you're more than welcome to them."

Icarus has posed:
When Andrea goes off to get fresh clothes for Brad, Jay gives her a brief smile in parting but remains close to the newcomer in their midst. He's built a rapport with the young man and, as such, kind of feels responsible. He's been able to relate to him on a few of the more major points, as Ororo is doing now in regards to the homeless issue. Whether by choice or not.

"Don't hog all those," he murmurs to Brad as he steals one of the sandwiches for himself. Maybe not eating alone will be less nervewracking. Probably not.

Haunt has posed:
"Muaaaaa haa haaaa," Brad snarks back at Jay lightly, pulling the tray aside for no reason other than to mess with him, but doesn't do it for long, he pushes the tray to the other boy.

Since nobody has freaked out about the hands, Brad relaxes. The rattling all around the room vanishes. It does mean some books fall from the ceiling here and there: plop. plopplop.

"I'm not starving. I can find food and places to sleep. I'm not sure I'm /dire/," Brad says, uncomfortable with that. "I just..."

"My parents don't deserve this either," decides the boy. He does grow brave: enough to lift to the hood and undo it-- and put it back. Yep, Brad's invisible. "They have enough with my little sister. She's almost six. They don't need all this."

The sandwiches hover to mouth to disappear in bite-sized pieces. It's like a magic show of disappearing floating sandwiches. And cocoa.

Storm has posed:
"If your sister were your age, and in the same straits you are now, would you consider her situation 'dire'?" One of Ororo's brows lifts minutely; it's clearly a rhetorical question.

"Brad, even if you believe in karma, I can assure you that your karma is not your parents," Ororo says. Leaning forward she rests her forearms against her knee and manages to look Brad right in the invisible eye. "No one is sent as a punishment."

Ororo's back straightens and she sits up again. Jay is given a glance, appreciating his presence as moral support. "Now. I do not mean to be blunt, but I do have to ask a few questions of you. First-- how old are you? Second, do you feel unsafe or unwelcome at home? Please be honest; Jay is putting a great deal of faith in you by bringing you here."

Icarus has posed:
Honestly, it's just amazing watching the guy eat. Nothing there but a sandwich then it squishes slightly on the corner as invisible teeth come down and separate it from the sandwich, leaving the curved space where it had been. But the food just disappears.

At mention of deserving this, like it's a punishment for him too, Jay almost opens his mouth but he resists and keeps eating his own sandwich. Which is way less cool to watch.

Haunt has posed:
"Probably dire," Brad admits quietly. It had not occurred to him to think of it that way. He's quiet for a little while, thinking it over. If there's impact to Storm staring towards Brad's invisible head, he doesn't react as if he were aware. Then again, his reactions ARE mostly invisible, except for the breathing of the hoodie and shifts in his body posture. There's still plenty to read.

"That's okay, I'll try to answer them. I'm sixteen. Unwelcome yeah, but I'm not unsafe. I wouldn't leave my dog there if it was unsafe." Teen boy logic says that makes perfect sense. "I'm not lying to you," Brad says, with a hint of the defensiveness Jay heard from him earlier in the night. Brad continues to eat, without any issue or comment if Jay is staring or not.

Storm has posed:
"I believe you," Ororo assures Brad with a smile. Fingers flex and extend apologetically. "We're a boarding facility. There are... more than a few young adults who've struck out on their own, and ended up here. We can certainly put you up for the night," she assures him.

"You wouldn't be the first one who left home over some unpleasantness. It's a familiar refrain here," Ororo says, and the sigh through her nostrils betrays some melancholy at the idea. "At any rate-- Mr. Guthrie," Ororo says, pivoting to look at Jay. "He's your guest, so you and Andrea have his charge. You're welcome to use the guest suites, or if you'd prefer--" she looks back at Brad-- "I believe room 14 is currently unoccupied in the men's dormitories. They're serviceable rooms, and you'd be around ... well." Her lips curl. "People who understand your unique situation quite intimately.'

Icarus has posed:
"Not a problem. I think his own room might be nice," Jay says as he gives a nod to the instructor's words. "I take full responsibility for him. Think once he realizes he's safe and doesn't feel like we have him under a microscope, he'll be fine."

He says it all outloud in front of the runaway so there is transparency, letting the boy have a say in his own fate at all times. "Brad, I'll be glad to show you around the school tomorrow, introduce you around. I apologize ahead of time. A new students brings everyone out of the woodwork. They won't realize you're a visitor and not a student. Yet. But you can decide for yourself. At least get a nice hot shower and sleep in a bed."

Haunt has posed:
"Why is everybody helping me?" Brad asks, perceptively. It isn't a challenge, but more that he's confused by it. "I'm really not useful to anybody anymore," he explains. "Aside from making sandwiches disappear. I can do that. All the sandwiches you don't want," Brad jokes. The joke is a little flat, and with no visible expression from Brad, may end up sounding weak: because there's raw nerves so very, very close to the surface.

"And I don't mean to question you. I'd love a hot shower and to change my clothes. I mean. I get that you're being super nice to me and you don't need to be," Brad explains in a rush.

"I should probably tell you that I can't see you any more than you can see me. Just so that's ... clear." Brad draws his legs in a little more, under the towel, shoulders curved in an expression of folding inwards.

There's a bit of motion (maybe Brad nodded?), and he starts to get up, folding the towel. His feet are invisible too, sans socks. Things in the room start to vibrate and rattle again. "Okay."

Storm has posed:
Ororo's eyes flicker in surprise. Brad is certainly maneuvering well for someone struck sightless. She smiles at the joke. "That's very clever, Brad," Ororo clarifies. One can hear the smile in her voice easily enough. "I imagine you've had a very rough time of it, fumbling through the world without help. We all do. Maybe I'm helping you because someone once helped me," she explains.

Ororo walks over and reaches down to pick up Brad's wrist, nudging him to his feet. A sandwich is pressed into one hand, and his cocoa into the other. "And perhaps someday, you'll help someone else that needs it. It's something called 'umoja'. But we can talk about that tomorrow." Brad's cheek is touched with a maternal care-- apparently Ororo /can/ see him. She checks his forehead against her wrist, then nudges his arm to turn him to Jay. "But you do need a shower and a warm bed. I'll leave you in Mr. Guthrie's capable care, then. If you need anything, I'll be in the staff lounge until past breakfast. Goodnight, gentlemen," she bids them.