xavier_institute | [Video] - Another X-Team?!

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original: alric caelegart

[Video] - Another X-Team?!

[Alric seems a bit more troubled--or at least more serious--than usual (which might be alarming to people who think he's impossibly serious normally). He smiles, politely, but his manner is a little more stern and pensive, something other members of the kendo club would likely have noticed. He pauses a second after turning on the video, before speaking.]

Fellow students. I have been thinking seriously about forming a team for some time. Since the beginning of the semester, I felt I had the luxury of focusing, above all, on protocol--deciding on the ideal foundation and mission statement for this team, before extending invitations.

[A brief pause--perhaps to gather his thoughts or perhaps rhetorical.]

However.

Recent events have lent a far greater urgency to the matter. So. My intention is to establish a team prepared for purposes of intervention. Ours is, plainly, a dangerous world, due to individuals with ill intent, be they mutant or otherwise. Given Professor Xavier's blessing, of course, I believe it would be in keeping both with my own oaths, and with the intent of the Institute, to form a team dedicated to representing the best that mutant citizens have to offer society. I believe there is much we can offer--to protect, with respect for the law, those who we can, and to offer our aid where possible. Perhaps, if we are able to do so with a measure of aptitude and wisdom, we may be able to help turn the tide of fear preemptively.

Such a team would need to be prepared for combat, if necessary, capable of fast response and deployment as needed, and, ideally, able to provide relief and protection to those in harm's way. Coordination with local authorities and regular patrolling may be vital, as well. Our training would prioritize those objectives. I would be glad to hear from any who are interested and do not have prior commitments, and am open to additional suggestions.

Mr. Hijikata: I've spoken to you about my intentions, before, in brief. I would be honored if, given these details, you still wish to support this endeavor.

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From the look on his face at first, and the fact that he felt the need to repeat himself, Tiamaris was fairly sure the man didn't believe him. When he declared himself a knight in the order of the dragon, he was pretty well certain that he was being made fun of. His eyes made a fast shift to an orange that was almost red, and the intensity of the color shot up, making his eyes look livid and liquid.

Not good. He felt the anger burning through his veins. He stumbled back, fighting to keep control. If he snapped here... was the room large enough? Couldn't spare the focus to look around. He wasn't a monster, he could control himself. He had to be able to control himself, or else he was better off dead! Maybe he should be... no! he wanted to live. It was stupid and pointless, and he had no clue why he wanted to live, but he did. But people kept... kept poking at him, doubting him, hating him...

He breathed in and out rapidly, trying to contain his spiraling temper and fear. Trying, and failing. One breath came out flames, and since he had fallen to one knee, clutching his head, tucking it down to his chest, the only thing he set on fire was his own clothing. Again. Eventually they were going to get tired of giving him new clothing...and then...then they'd kick him out... he's be out there...alone...again....

THAT fear pushed him further. Scales exploded across his skin until he wore dragon scales as armor. It covered what clothing would and more... which was good since the remains of his cloths were now flitting in the air, smoldering. It was happening again... he was loosing control. Eyes bright red orange, his head snapped up. He had to get out of here, had to! If he went dragon in this room... he'd break so much more than a bed, and if he killed this guy... even accidentally with his bulk... He didn't want to be a killer anymore, didn't want to be a monster. He saw a window (I hope it is okay to presume there is a window, if not, let me know and I will edit the post) and charged for it, even if that meant charging past the man.

He launched himself out the window, the glass and wood breaking against his scales, he didn't feel it. He rolled onto the grass outside and curled into a ball, trying to contain his temper and his fear, trying to contain himself...

Alric was rather puzzled at Tiamaris' wrathful reaction, cringing slightly--not flinching away, so much as hesitating, his attempt to extend a welcome faltering. Was he overstepping somehow, yet again? Both hands raised slightly, held back, in a placating gesture.

"...ah... .......I apologize, if I said something--. "

The fellow clearly wasn't in a listening mood, judging by the way he was setting himself on fire, but he had to say something in an effort to talk him down. Worst case, he wouldn't listen. Or he'd focus his anger on Alric, instead, but that wasn't necessarily the worst case. Alric knew that state of mind all too well.

The eruption of scales was something else, though, and Alric sidestepped as Tiamaris lunged forward abruptly--watching him crash out through the window, hit the ground, and tumble across the grass of the lawn, curling up on himself.

Alric hesitated a few seconds... then leaped out after him, although he kept a few yards' distance, hands held up, open and empty. He put on the most confident voice he could manage, in spite of the situation. His reservations could wait for a less pressing moment. For now, he did his best to offer a strong, certain support without making the fellow feel crowded, threatened, or patronized. Of course he figured there was a good chance he'd be ignored, but he couldn't very well stand back and do nothing, and someone would surely come to investigate, eventually.

"Tiamaris! It's all right. You're fine. Whatever I said that distressed you so, I apologize. I swear to you, I meant no disrespect, no ill will. I'll keep my distance, if you want, but I ask that you tell me what you need, what I can do to help you."

The words cut through in a way they wouldn't have, had some passing stranger, or even a generic teacher said them. They cut through because this was the guy who sparked his temper and... and he hadn't run, he hadn't threatened him. It was like... like his roommate again.

HE struggled to catch his breath, but the anger was fading some. The words were like pulling a plug, and he just had to run down a charge. The brightness of the color faded from his eyes, and his heavy breaths no longer threatened to ignite the grass.

This person... he did not seem to fear him.... he claimed to want to help him. Many people had claimed that since he left, since he ran away. But the only two that had done so after the scales and fire... the only two who made that claim after seeing this... were his roommate and professor Xavier.

He was a monster. A murderer. But people here... he seemed to be the one most scared of him. Why? What was it about this place that people were okay with the fact that he turned into a horrifying creature that could kill them all when he lost his temper?

He remembered the odd guy, during the fight, who had used his wing as a trampoline... Nothing in any of the books he had read helped this to make any sense. But... they weren't scared of him, and... people were scared of monsters, right?

Could the professor be right, could it be possible that he wasn't as much of a monster as he feared? HE rolled over onto his back, his eyes an orange that was closer to red than gold, but the color was dull, flat. Both inner lids were in place, muting the color of his emotions. Confusion and fear never ran as hot or as close to the surface as fury. But he needed to control his temper. needed to. Or people would get hurt again.

He didn't speak an answer, didn't trust his voice not to contain flame. But laying on his back instead of curled up... would that count as an answer? he wasn't sure. He did wish it would rain though, just in case. Make it harder for him to set things on fire. And the sound of rain pinging off the scales was one of the few things he found to like about this whole mess. Not worth the cost of admission, but hearing the rain without feeling it... he closed a scaled hand, complete with claws, in the grass beside him, closing his eyes.

[Not sure if you were up for continuing yet but here's my post anyhow, when you are!]

Alric stayed put, near but not quite in arm's reach, his hands remaining raised and open in a soothing gesture. He couldn't say he knew exactly what was going through the fellow's head at the moment, but he had a strong inkling. An angry outburst, flame, igniting his own clothes, fleeing rather than lashing out--all those signs were awfully familiar. Perhaps he should have seen it sooner, how close that rage was to the surface.

He let out a slow breath. He could be cross with and curse himself later.

"Whenever you're ready to talk, Tiamaris, I'm right here; tell me what you need, if you need me to explain myself, to clarify something I expressed poorly, and I'll do what I can."

He took several deep breaths, thankfully free of fire, before he opened dull orange eyes up to the sky.

"Don't knights hunt and kill dragons?" He asked in a rough whisper.

Not the question he wanted to ask, not what had set him off, but it was a safer question to ask. Less likely to set him off again, given the lack of a gun between his eyes, given that the man was claiming he wanted to help. And less danger than exposing the real vulnerability, the fear, the real cause for the anger.

(Always happy to continue, sorry the reply is short, just got home from out of state and am exhausted.)

[No problem, I totally get you, there!]

Alric blinked at that and smiled to himself, holding back a surprised laugh--however innocuous, he seemed to have demonstrated something of a talent for setting Tiamaris off, already. He paused briefly, before answering.

"Well. History is home to all manner of unpleasantness that I don't suppose we need repeat. Rome doesn't exactly feed Christians to lions, these days. I know very well from my own experience that a display of wrath does not imply malice. ...are you all right? You aren't hurt?"

A lot of that... made no sense to him. He turned his head slightly to look at Alric, not quite willing to admit that he was confused, but not sure what to say otherwise.

Alric hesitated a moment to see if he was just hesitating, or simply wasn't going to answer.

"...I hate to press, but... you did jump through a window. If you're hurt, we should get you to the infirmary."

Tiamaris lifted a scaled hand, looking at it. Bits of glass that might have clung tinkled away and fell down. He looked back at Alric.

Even before becoming a dragon, Tiamaris had read enough stories with dragons to know that they were tough creatures. How did he think glass could hurt him?

Or was it an excuse to separate safely? Tiamaris wasn't sure. So he left his arm up, visibly unharmed, and just gave Alric his usual deadpan look. Though because he was slightly amused at not being all that fragile, there was more gold in his eyes than there had been before.

Alric glanced at it, and gave the rest of him a once-over. He didn't look quite so certain as Tiamaris' expression seemed to suggest he should, but he sighed quietly, acquiescing. The fellow probably had more experience than Alric with how well he could jump through windows.

"...well. All right. But do be careful at least to rid yourself of the glass while that... armor of yours is still present."

He flashed a slightly troubled smile.

"I feel badly enough causing you such an upset. I'd truly hate for you to be injured, as well, in my account."

Okay, this Alric person was... odd. He stood, carefully, shaking off the last of the glass, carefully. And then he realized... and sighed. "That was my last shirt too," he said softly, eyes going closer to orange again.

There would come a time when they would be tired of clothing him, especially given how often he ruined his clothes beyond all hope of repair. At least there was another pair of pants in his room....

"I am... hard to injure these days," he said, somewhat amused, enough so that his eyes shifted back towards gold again.

Alric relaxed somewhat, standing, as well, and smiled just a touch more.

"...mm. I'm certainly glad to hear that, at least. Quite an impressive ability, that, I must say... even if it is... difficult."

He pauses briefly, shaking his head.

"I don't.. mean to patronize you, of course--rather, I've... had certain difficulties with my own ability, for years. I owe whatever control I have managed to learn to my grandfather's lessons. Without him..."

He trails off, shaking his head, then clears his throat quietly, offering a small smile once again.

"...well. ...at any rate, ah... we could see if I have a shirt I could lend you, until you've managed to acquire a replacement. I can't promise the nicer ones will fit you well, but, if you'd like, we'll see what we can do."

His eyes slid to the gold, a dull gold, but a gold without a hint of orange. Not something that was common for him at this point. "I do not think loaning me a shirt is a good idea," he said, and then added a but wryly, finding and lifting a somewhat scorched scrap that had been the neckline if his last shirt, "they don't tend to last long."

And then he actually managed to remember what manners were used in a case like this. "Ah... Thank you, though." And the odd thing was, he actually meant it. He actually felt.. Grateful. It was.... An odd feeling; but not an altogether unwelcome one.

Alric shook his head, smiling a little more.

"Nonsense, nonsense. There are higher priorities in this world than the safety of my shirts; I can't very well leave you running about without a shirt merely to protect my wardrobe. Besides, I assure you, I've done my share of damage before, myself."

He retrieved a cellphone from his pocket, quickly texting. Now that the situation with Tiamaris wasn't quite so critical, he had to make sure the faculty were aware of the broken window. Partly to make sure it wasn't taken as an attack, and partly to ensure the glass scattered about would be cleaned up safely.

"So. Let's at least see if I've something that'll fit you respectably, eh?"

"Ah," he hesitated, then shrugged. "It would probably be better to go to my room first, for the pants..." He somehow doubted anyone would appreciate a lack of both scales and pants at the same time.

Still, he had read stories about people in dorms, going to each other's rooms... Usually they were friends. Tiamaris still didn't fully understand friendship, and wasn't sure if he wanted to. But did this make them friends, or was going to each others room merely a symptom if a friendship if it were already in existence?

Alric chuckled at that, tilting his head in acknowledgement.

"...ah, yes, that's true. Tell me which room's yours, though, and I can just fetch you a shirt while you're tending to the rest."

He didn't seem particularly to be wrestling with the same concerns as Tiamaris, although he did still seem somewhat troubled. He makes a good show of brushing that aside, though, starting for the boys' dorms.

He walked with him a bit startled by the offer, then shrugged. "First floor, room four. Mine is the empty side." He considered, then said, "And if the bathroom door is shut, do not go in, my roommate was very specific about that." This whole situation was just too weird. Besides which, he was not sure what else Alric wanted him to be taking care of. Maybe the boy just needed some time away from Tiamaris to react in private. Yes. That was probably it.

Mostly he meant he was going to give Tiamaris a chance to compose himself, change (literally), and get some pants on, but expressed vaguely in order to try and be polite about it. For all that sort of thing had worked on anyone, here. Strange place, America. Alric had never met people so quick to become frustrated, rude, confused, or otherwise out of sorts over being a bit polite or expressing oneself carefully.

Nonetheless, he smiled and nodded.

"I'll be along momentarily, then."

With that he headed up to his room to fetch a couple of shirts--a dress shirt in case their measurements happened to be similar enough, and a tee shirt as well in case the dress shirt fit him poorly. He didn't rush about it too much, to give Tiamaris some time, as he'd said, but was along shortly, and knocked lightly at the door.

When Tiamaris saw Alric heading to his own room instead of... oh. Now he understood the confusion. That made more sense. With a shrug that sounded like metal against metal, he turned and headed for his room, his foot steps causing slight tremors from his increased weight.

He got to his room, glad to see that his roommate was out. He wasn't sure how to handle two people at one time.

He found pants, his last pair, and shifted out of scales, then pulled them on. He had just closed them when he heard the knock on the door.

He opened the door cautiously, having no clue how to behave at this point.

Alric smiled casually, holding up the shirts he'd retrieved.

"I wasn't sure which might suit you better--or, for that matter, fit you better--so I though it best to bring both. Again, don't trouble yourself needlessly over hurrying to return either; when you've no need is the best time."

(Just out of the hospital, on lots of meds. I apologize if my posts are odd.)

"....Thank you...." He really had no clue how to handle this... He tried to remember what would have happened in one of his books. "...Would... you like to come in?" he asked, voice cool and aloof, but inside he was unsure.

[Hope you're feeling better at least! D: ]

Alric paused a moment, but smiled a touch more sheepishly, and nodded.

"Ah... I suppose, yes, if I'm not imposing--really, though, I mean chiefly to make amends, and apologize, for that.. incident..."

(Thank you. Only comparatively. On lots of meds, though.)

Not knowing what else to say or do, Tiamaris stepped back, pulling the door further open. He set down one of the shirts, randomly, and pulled on the other.

Alric stepped inside and glanced around curiously to see what sort of decoration, if any, Tiamaris had introduced--and what it might reveal about his fellow student's interests.

"...mm. I wonder, with all their experience dealing with various inconvenient abilities, if the faculty might not be able to help with the, ah... clothing issue. Something elastic, perhaps, and fireproof. Control, of course, is the best solution, but... ...well. In my case, at least, it took quite some time to learn--and, in all honesty, I am still learning."

(Still on the pain pills)

There was no decoration on his half of the room. Just the new bed after the last had been melted, vague scorch marks and dents in the floor here and there. The smell of brimstone was not fully diffused by the open windows. His closet stood open, and empty. The other half of the room belonged to Koshi, and I honestly have no clue how it was decorated. probably with baseball paraphernalia.

Tiamaris had heard of fireproof clothing, but never anything that had actually worked. But elastic... his eyes went gold with humor, bright and liquid, at the mental image of a dragon in pants and a shirt. Where would the wings go?

He shrugged a bit, face still expressionless, except for the liquid gold of his eyes. "I am... trying to learn," he admitted. He was curious what the other meant about his own control...but did not ask.

[Video] - Another X-Team?!

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