Chapter 2

As he's glancing over Liberty's mind, Ellis shoots Spencer a look of disbelief.

Mrs. Clairemont patiently waits for the students to do a brief amount of chatter, and over the general sound of that, Wesley gently terns pages to his newspaper, minding his own business. Anyone paying close attention can see the headline has something to do with ReNew details, and general tips for parents regarding their young teens. He reaches at one point for the apple that Spencer had left for him on the table, only to find that when he makes the gripping motion, he grabs onto nothing but air. His brows knit and he stops reading for a second to search the table, and even goes so far as to look beneath to see if it merely rolled away.

He looks positively distressed about it.

Meanwhile.

Liberty smiles demurely at the amount of attention. One hand goes to her hair and pulls it down along the side of her neck to twist a clump around her finger. The occasional furtive glance is given to Logan before quickly pulling back to the rest of them. The banter between Ariel and Spencer seems to amuse her, and so she tells them with a wry laugh, "Well I think all of you are pretty... And I think I'm like you guys." Her smile flickers with the lack of self confidence evident there. She looks to the headmistress for a moment as though to ask silently if things are being done right. "Just with the teensiest bit cooler last name," she motions the gauge of what 'teensy' means with her forefinger and thumb.

She stays oddly quiet, the same type of quiet one maintains when they're uncertain of where they might stand in a potential group dynamic. Her eyes settle on the melting of the quarter, watching it with her hands fidgeting in front of herself until she's questioned more directly by Ariel. "I'm from upstate. I was apart of the volleyball and basketball team at my old school. I had a pretty normal life before, I think. Me, mom and my sis'. I'm really into sports. I guess that's how.. whatever happened with me, happened. I was trying to spike a ball over the net when another girl rammed herself into me. Well. She was going to anyways. She went right through me," her eyebrows raise for emphasis. "She ended up falling on the court. Everyone started gagging and I was mostly just confused. Someone had to tell me what happened."

The clump of hair is allowed to snap away from her twisting finger. "It still just sounds kinda' crazy..."

Mrs. Clairemont places a hand on Liberty's shoulder briefly. "First Alpha," she smirks to the classroom, "why don't the rest of you mention what your first experience was?"

Arthur chuckles as Mr. Wyndham-Pryce searches for the apple, taking another bite of his. Swiped food seems to taste a bit better, in my opinion.

Logan sits there listening to Liberty tell her story. Stealing a quick glance at her when he can, Logan hoped Liberty liked the small metal statue. ...hopefully she really was looking over at me and I didn't make an idiot of myself. Hopefully giving her the little statue wasn't to weird either. While I'm at it, lets hope she doesn't look over and catch me looking like an idiot as I talk to myself.

As Mrs. Claremont suggests talking about their first change, Logan can feel his cheeks turn a little red. "I'll go first if it's okay. For my first change, I was with a few friends and we were LARPing, or Roleplaying in costumes and such. Well, I was standing there getting ready to slay the undead menace...so to speak, when instead of wearing aluminum foil wrapped around cardboard and holding a fake sword, I was wrapped in real armor and swinging the real thing."

Logan paused as he tried not to smile. "I never saw my friends run that fast before. In a matter of seconds I was alone in the woods. The real problems didn't happen until I got home. It turns out one of my so called friends told his parents and the typical domino effect happened. My friends were to scared to have anything to do with me. My parents hung around me long enough to send me to my Uncle's..it was for my safety they said. Their loss in my opinion...my uncle taught history at the nearby college, so for some odd reason he thought it was great, we both poured over books and studied up on medieval times and stuff. It was actually his idea to for me to enroll here. He paid what needed to be paid...and here I am."

"I hurt someone," Fee says, once Logan is done, her skin fading from green to a sickly grey-green. She stares down at her now grey hands clasped in front of her and picks at one thumbnail with the other. "It was an accident. I pushed him. I couldn't stop."

Fee takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud sigh, then looks up, her face and all expose skin flushing back to a faded green as she flashes a forced smile. "But, all's well that ends well, right?"

In the awkward silence that follows Fee's story, Arthur looks around. "I accidentally caused a book to explode. I didn't mean to, it just happened. My parents wouldn't have any of it, and through some pretty crappy stuff, I ended up here."

"I, uh... I grew wings. Just little bumps at first, the girls used to tease me about them in the changing rooms, but that was okay. Then the lumps got bigger, and my mum started to worry. She started taking me to doctors, then a surgeon. 'Masses', they called them, said I should get them removed. A couple of nights before I was meant to go in for surgery, they... I don't know, hatched? It didn't hurt or anything, it was just super itchy and then all of a sudden I had four of these sort of floppy, damp ribbon things trailing down my back. Super gross, right? But then they dried out, and it was like... oh my god, this is what I'm meant to look like, you know? I'd been looking in mirrors for years and no matter what, I never looked like me."

"So yeah, anyway, mum freaked. Took me to the hospital, they said everything seemed fine, totally healthy, just... y'know. We talked, she wanted me to stick with the surgery plan, said it would help me have a normal life. But when it got to the day, and I thought about them cutting off my wings, I... I just couldn't. They were trying to prep me for surgery, and I panicked, and BAM, just like that, I was back in bed at home, still in my hospital gown. I had no idea what had happened."

"Mum was in a real state by the time she got home, but once I'd managed to explain how I felt, I think she understood. She tries to, anyway."

Mrs. Clairemont has no doubt heard these stories before, most likely in the application screening process and so she listens with a professional deference once could expect. Mr. Wesley pays only a half-hearted amount of attention, because he is getting maddeningly more frustrated with applegate. It was there, and then it wasn't. He glances up, however, when hears the loud crunch of someone else taking a bite of apple, and he gives Arthur a look. A very piercing look. A very teacher-like look. The type of look that causes his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose as he tries to look down the length of his nostrils toward the boy, and in that moment, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce has never seemed more stuffingly British.

Liberty, however, listens with almost a thirst to ask more questions a troubled, congested expression. She occasionally whispers out to each, "I'm so sorry," while wringing her hands together in front of her stomach. She asks, almost hesitantly after Ariel finishes her story, "... Would it be alright if I asked if I could see them.. unfurled? Stretched?" She asks, very wide-eyed--

"--After class." Mrs. Clairemont interrupts. "Liberty, take your seat." She skips over Spencer and Ellis. After all, Ellis has a particular way of communicating. And Spencer... Well. Perhaps she skipped over him with purpose.

"I'm here to talk to you about Saturday. What happened was tragic. Utterly tragic. As you might have heard, the people responsible were..." It's her turn to squeeze her hands together, though the movement is controlled, and concise, as though she were molding her thoughts together between her palms, "under the influence of a particular street drug. We've done what we could to keep mention of your efforts out of the media; however..." She pauses and makes a, 'What can you do,' type shrug. "As of such I feel it in our best interest to suspend further planned outings until otherwise mentioned... if there is something you need, we can have it delivered. Any questions?"

Logan sits there listening to Mrs. Clairemont speak about their little outing. "So....you're saying because we used our gifts to help people, and stop the gunmen, we are not allowed to go out in public? We were careful to keep our identities secret. We..did..the right thing."

Arthur sets down his apple. "Wait a tic... Logan's right. We did the right thing, used our abilities to help others, and we're getting punished for it? He slumps back into his chair. "This is utter nonsense. It's starting to seem less like we are students here, but rather prisoners or guinea pigs."

Ariel looks downcast, almost guilty. "It's me and Fee that's the problem, isn't it? The boys are fine, they all look human. They can walk around in public and nobody would ever know they were different. And you're trying to be fair, and not single us out - if we have to hide away, then everybody has to hide, right?"

She fixes Mrs Clairemont with a sudden, angry glare. "But that fairness isn't fair. It just means that the two of us are responsible for everyone being miserable, and that's a horrible feeling. Don't put that on us."

"Ariel’s right. It’s not fair to everybody else." Fiona nods her head, her skin fading to grey again. "Besides, I’m used to hiding indoors."

Spencer still has his head down on the desk, but when the word 'suspend' comes up and he shoots to attention. Spencer lines up his thoughts and opens his mouth to speak, and then Logan pipes up... by the time Logan is done, Spencer looks a little deflated, like Logan has just said what he was about to, he raises his finger as if he has another idea, but then Arthur breaks in and seems to take his other ideas, and starts to look a little disheveled. He lights up with another idea, then looks a little ashamed when Ariel says her piece. By the time Fee says her few words in support of Ariel, Spencer is steamed up, but instead of showing anger, a sly grin creeps onto his face, and his eyes narrow so tight there's only enough of a slit for the daggers to fly at his mother:

"It's okay Ms. Clairemont, we can still have unplanned outings, right guys?" Spencer sits back and grins like he knows he's lit the fuse and the fireworks are about to start.

Mrs. Clairemont stands there for a hot second, blinking at her students as though they weren't talking back to her, although it could also equally be argued that she's simply being polite and letting them make their complaints known. She turns around to glance at Wesley, whom promptly glanced toward the closed door to the classroom to avoid direct eye contact. As he began palming his own mouth to hide to hide half of his face, she turned back to the students with an expression that quietly asked of all of them: have you all lost your tiny little minds?

"This is not a punishment."

She reaches behind to snatch Wesley's newspaper right from underneath him, and then unfolds it large enough that she can point to a picture of Logan that's been plastered in a widespread on page 6. The picture is of him in mid-form, metal wrapping around him from behind, moments before he leaped to the first floor in the mall, from an angle of someone who'd been on the floor and behind. The headline reads in bold TEENAGE MUTANT TEENS?

She keeps the spread displayed as if she were reading them a picture book. "You looked quite dapper on Saturday, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Henry?" and then she tosses the papers carelessly over her shoulder at Wesley, whom fails to catch the fluttering mess. "This is for your safety. Get down your knees and pray to God tonight that the security footage for the mall was scrambled, and that this is the only picture. Privacy is the only thing that keeps those walls out there effective in keeping people who would want to hurt you to continue minding their own business. If people recognize you, they will harass you." Of course, she doesn't know that it is Ellis that deserves the credit.

There is a slight sigh when Ariel and Olivia speak up, a sigh that is more indicative of a deep thought rather than frustration. "If I am going to be completely truthful with you, yes. Your physical abnormalities play a great part into keeping the whole of you secure."

At Spencer's pointed statement, she looks at him with a gaze that is hot, intense, and dominating. She speaks firmly so that everyone will be able to hear her succinctly, "Unauthorized outings are not permitted at this time, and there are very real consequences for taking it upon yourself to think that you know better."

"I see your point Mrs. Clairemont. From the newspaper photo, it definitely shows that..I..need to stay here. Yet, I still stand by my point. Why punish the others when I'm the only one that got..caught?"

Logan turns to look at his fellow students, with a quick almost shy glance at Liberty, he speaks. "I'm sorry everyone, I should have found a better place to armor up. I didn't mean to get caught and, in turn, get us all...grounded. If it helps make everything okay, I'll give everyone a great deal on an autograph."

Logan turns back in his seat and meets Mrs. Clairemont's stare. He sits up straight in his chair, with a rather large, cat aye the canary grin, on his face.

Arthur sits quietly and ponders a thought. "When you say all outings are suspended, you mean we don't leave the grounds for anything, including religious ceremonies?"

"So just so we're clear, except for those of us under your strict legal guardianship..." He points his two thumbs toward himself. "What now allows you to inflict such limitations per se, upon the constitutional rights of the remainder of the school populace, and given the same citation of rights, further limit or supplant our rights were we to disobey further? ...The news outlet coverage poses no threat or association with the school, and no consequence to its continued function. Furthermore, given the gravity of any of these possibilities, why were we not briefed specifically upon the limitations of our activity and the consequences thereof before we left on said outing during which the "incident" occurred, which we did not incite? This clearly goes beyond the edicts presented in code of conduct of the school... In short, Ms. Clairemont, I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the notion that all this is not YOUR FAULT! I refuse to be penalized because you were FRIGHTENED! I'm willing to bet, had no one in this room revealed it to you directly, you wouldn't have learned about it until this morning, or statistically speaking, not at all. It's 6 pages in, there's only a small demographic who will get that far into the paper. Spencer looks smugly pleased with himself. "Is that your first time in the paper, Logan? I think I do want an autograph! Will you sign my butt?" Spencer's usual goofy smile returns, and you feel thankful you're not at the wrong end of his ridicule.

Ellis is ignores the bickering between Ms. Clairemont and the others, only a slight twinge of annoyance registering that they're stuck on the grounds for now. No camera for him for now.

Instead he focuses harder on Liberty, annoyed that he can't get anything. She seems so... curious. Suspiciously so to Ellis. He puts his head down on the desk, resting the side of his face on his arms, making himself physically small as possible as he reaches his mind out larger to see if he can get something more...

It is Mr. Wyndham-Pryce that answers Arthur's question: "Mrs. Clairemont, the boy does have a religious right to an ordained minister and at the very least a dedicated area for prayer, it would technically be ill-"

But she's not listening to him and quickly slams her hand on the desk behind herself to indicate that it really isn't the best time to badger her. At Spencer, her eyes become hot like white coals, narrowing on him with a non-blinking intensity. Half-way through his diatribe she cuts in, speaking over top of him and louder until she is the dominant voice. "Brief you? Brief you. How. How was I supposed to know, or even foresee that an event like this would happen. I have been straight with you since the very beginning, with all of you, and I'm sorry it's hard and bitter pill to swallow, but at some point your fragile little sensibilities are going to need sharpen up, and you're going to have to learn that things are not always apart of some grandiose scheme. It's a hard, cold truth, but sometimes life itself is terribly unfair. And the sad truth is, Mr. Henry, is that even if you hadn't been seen, this may have very well been the outcome given recent events in the city, regardless if this outing had happened or not."

Her nostrils flare as she inhales and her jaw quivers for a second before she continues, this time seemingly more directly at Spencer, "I am so tired of your constant bickering, your insinuations, your blatant disregard for everything I do. I've worked myself to the bone to create a safe space, to appeal to donors for funding, for grants! I feel a greater sense of responsibility for everything that happens to each of you, more than you can possibly imagine. You have the luxury to sit back, to make snide comments, to pretend I don't care or that I lack some type of heart. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know when it comes to media organizations and how things tend to get spun. Wesley, SIT DOWN, I am not finished talking."

Behind her, Dr. Wyndham-Pryce makes the faintest of stutters in the most awkward half-stand, something about this sort of display not being appropriate.

And she promptly ignores him to finish what she has to say to Spencer. "It might make you feel better to think of me as some sort of hideous monster steeped in the most vile of villainy. I hope it does. I would of course prefer it if you just simply thanked me, and let me do my job. Either way, I don't care. I will no longer tolerate this type of disrespect.