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OPEN LOG #1
| INTRODUCTION |
| Welcome to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, where we're the best there is at we do! Founded by Charles Xavier, the school exists to help young mutants understand their powers in order to use them wisely in the real world. Being approved by the educational board of the United States means that the school has all your typical classes: Mathematics, English, Science, Phys Ed, et cetera -- but being a mutant school means there's even more than that, like Outer Space Survival, Possible Histories, and The Art of Fighting without Fighting.
We offer classes, extracurricular activities, sports activities, field trips, and everything else that fine institutes are known for. Just count us a little higher than the rest, though -- especially since we're the only school that can handle mutants. |
PROMPT 1: FIRST DAY |
| It's the welcome ceremonies, which means you've all assembled on the front grounds of the school to listen to Headmaster Logan's big speech. It's not a very good speech, mind you -- something like welcome new students and hope you learn a lot here -- but you can tell he has a lot of heart.
After the ceremonies are over, you're free to explore the school, whether on your own or with one of the professors or a student who's already been here a while and knows the way things go. There's a GREENHOUSE, the LIBRARY, the ATRIUM, the CAFETERIA, the COURTYARD, the ARCHERY RANGE... you name it, the mansion probably has it. Charles Xavier's not one to skrimp out on money when there's things to be learned, you know. Alternatively, maybe you just want to go to your NEW ROOM and maybe meet your roommate on the way. Maybe some neighbours? Maybe you're sleeping right next to the room one of the chaperoning professors sleep in. Either way, there're definitely some new strangers for you to get to know now! |
PROMPT 2: BAMF-CATCHING |
| You've been at the school a while. Classes are definitely interesting, and there're some subjects you've never even heard of. Of all the things you've never seen, though, the Bamfs are pretty out there. These tiny blue things teleport in and out of all inches in the school, both outside of class and right in the middle of it. They write graffiti on the walls, yell out "BAMF!" and "WHISKEY!", and stare at pretty girls in ways that are probably considered uncomfortable. Sometimes they grab students and teleport them to other areas in the school!
The staff know about it, of course. Headmaster Logan is especially aware of them, and sometimes you can hear him yelling in the halls for the damn things to come back with his whiskey!. They're too big a threat to be able to take down, however, and are far too crafty to keep tame. One day, you see a sign on the bulletin board reading: BAMF CATCHING - MONETARY PRIZE FOR WHOEVER CATCHES THE MOST BAMFS. SACKS CAN BE FOUND OUTSIDE HEADMASTER LOGAN'S OFFICE. Do you dare try? |
PROMPT 3: DANGER ROOM TRAINING |
When you hear the first "Danger Room Quiz" is coming up, you expect to be taken to the place where the X-Men train. What you don't expect, however, is for Friday homeroom to have this announcement on the PA systems in a voice that is absolutely Hank McCoy's:"Good morning, students! As you already know, today is your first Danger Room Quiz. Now, typically we bring students in batches into the Danger Room, but Charles and I have decided to try something new... turning the entire school into one!With that, the broadcast ends. Your homeroom teachers offer you a sheepish smile. And then they dismiss you for the quiz. |
PROMPT 4: WILDCARD |
| If none of these prompts appeal to you, make one of your own! Have fun! |
➤ for the gruffest claw daddy of them all
He does what he's told and goes where he's directed with a garnish of distant politeness, but it takes a few long weeks for him to feel settled in. It doesn't help that he's self-conscious about his abilities (and only having the barest idea of what he can do is a whole other issue) and a restful night's sleep seems like something he lost in the divorce with his old life.
But it's far from all bad. There are people here who understand him, and it's... safe, a concept he'd also thought he'd lost for good.
And the Bamfs are kind of cute. Sort of. Or he'd thought so in the beginning, before their demonic shit stirring started escalating. Now they're mostly just harmless nuisances, when they're not going out of their way to give him a concussion.
Walking down on the hall, Jake hears the creature too late; something pounces onto his shoulders from behind, there's a flash and then--
Reality reforms itself into the shape of the headmaster's office. Oh, shit. Jake, knocked forward in the Bamf's momentum, stumbles off balance one step, two steps, and ends up going face-first into the front of the desk.]
Ow!
[It's indignant. If that had been a test to see how quickly he could find his foot, he just failed it miserably.]
IM SO LATE BUT I LOVE THIS
And, okay -- maybe it's sort of cruel. But the pages wouldn't have cushioned his fall, anyway, so this is the lesser evil, here. ]
Why you sonuva... [ But with a BAMF! the little blue elf disappears, and Logan mumbles quietly under his breath. ] Jesus fucking Christ.
[ He sets the papers onto his chair before coming forward and gently helping the kid into the seat on the other side of the desk. Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulls a kerchief out and gently holds it up to the kid's nose to catch the blood that oozes out of it.
A warm hand pats the kid on the back to have him leaning forward slightly, enough for the blood to drip out of his nose instead of down his throat for swallowing. ] Breathe through your mouth, [ is his first piece of advice, ] and pinch this part here. [ His thumb and index very gently catch the soft part of the kid's nose, just above his nostrils, before his touch slips away entirely. ]
It'll go away in a few minutes. [ He pats a hand on his shoulder, and prays against all hope that it feels soothing. ] You okay?
WE CAN BOTH BE FASHIONABLY LATE <333
Jake doesn't have time for judgement, regardless, too stunned by the sudden impact and sharp pain lancing up his face. Jesus fucking Christ indeed. Hands slap the wood, too late to brace himself but enough to signal he hasn't passed out like a dead fish atop Logan's pen collection just yet.
Seriously, ow.
A drop of red lands on the varnished wood, then another. Instinctively reaching up to find the source alerts him to the damage. Pain and disbelief war for dominance. Are you kidding him right now? He could've gotten a concussion! And for what?]
I can't believe I shared my lunch with them once!
[Twice the indignation and nasally intonation this time. Wincing, he sits when Logan eases him back, face screwed up in a look of intense concentration to keep his watering eyes from turning into real tears. He bites down on his lip to swallow the soft sounds of pain that want to escape, if not the blood.]
Is it broken? [Doing as directed, he pinches own to stem the floor before his clothes can become bloody casualties.] I can't tell.
thank god for mutual slowtagging
[ Then again, every time Logan breaks his nose, it heals almost immediately after. It isn't too farfetched to say he's hardly the leading authority on injuries of any kind. ]
I keep telling you kids not to feed the Bamfs. [ He clicks his tongue, moving to take some tissues from the top of his desk (a roll, he finds, is especially useful, because there're a lot of kids that come to his office that end up bawling -- and he doesn't even grill them that hard!). He offers some to Jake, and the others he curls lightly into the collar of his shirt to keep any dripping blood from staining the cotton. ]
Makes 'em think you wanna play, and then they go and do shi -- things like this. [ Logan shakes his head. ] Last birthday I had, I gave 'em a slice of cake and woke up on Lady Liberty the next day.
slow and steady wins the race
[What does that mean for his face. A pair of watery blue eyes fix on Logan from over the top of his hand. God, he's not going to have a crooked nose from now on, is he? Is he...? With this many super-powered people around, surely someone would be able to fix a flattened nose, right?
He could be squinting at the reprimand or just blinking stinging eyes, it's hard to say.]
You can say shit. They're shits. [He doesn't need to be told twice, he has plenty regrets of his own about playing nice with those things.
Protecting his shirt isn't something that would've crossed his mind, and he blinks down, taking the rest of the tissues in his hand absently. It's an oddly parental gesture and it throws him a bit. He's been getting used to not having parents.] Thanks.
[It comes out sounding like "tanks."]
but what if Slowest?
The fact that he's so awkward giving it is probably enough for anyone to understand why.
What's even more awkward, however, is the fact that Jake is still... here. Which isn't bad or anything by nature, but makes Logan uncomfortable solely because nobody just does that. ] Did you wanna talk?
[ Hopefully that doesn't come out sounding irritated or anything, because Logan isn't. Just, you know. Confused. ]
I mean, I don't mind you hiding out in here [ even if nobody else does ] but uh. I don't get a lot of visitors that aren't troublemakers.
still Loveliest
Sorry for interrupting. I can go.
[And sorry... if there's a dent in your desk the shape of his head...]
no subject
[ He's not used to it. But apparently that's not the right thing to say in a headmaster situation.
Logan's gaze flicks to Jake's nose again, but then finds the kid's eyes instead as a small smile appears on his face. It's a pretty awkward smile. (He's doing his best.) ]
How about I teach you how to control one of these things?
[ Cyke's gonna kick his ass for not finishing his paperwork, but what the fucking hell. ]
no subject
[That he's interrupted. He can swing by the medical wing if need be--there's probably no better place this side of the country equipped to deal with the bloody stuff.
And the latter might not even be necessary, anyway. When he releases his nose to test how hard the faucet is still running, the flow seems to be slowing already. He may not have the regenerative abilities of the Wolverine, but he does have that bounce-back resiliency of an eleven-year-old that allows him to fall headfirst off a jungle gym and keep going like nothing happened.]
Control? [That gets his attention; he looks to Logan curiously, the words coming clearer as he unpinches his nose again.] What do you mean?
[The strain in the man's smile is forgiven, and in fact barely noticed. He and the other adults have already put so much time and attention into Jake; he couldn't ask or expect more. But he's eager to learn, that much is undeniable.]
the fact that you play real teleporters aside
But he does use his free hand to bonk it lightly on the head, and the Bamf starts yammering in that Pokemon-esque, repetitive name-word way it's known for. ]
Your own personal teleporter.
this is the superior way to teleport
The thing with being eleven is, one's opinions and moods can change on a dime. The boy from a minute ago who was resolved not to play nice with the Bamfs anymore looks a little uncertainly at the one squirming in Logan's grasp after the swat to the head.]
I don't know... It seems kind of mean to force them like that, doesn't it?
[Even after they almost concuss you on the headmaster's desk. Roland had made moves to hone it and sharpen it in their time together, but Jake still holds onto a soft spot for living creatures big and small. Animals especially, despite knowing the Bamfs aren't technically animals.]