#scintillatingwit

I really really wanna try it.

I COULD BE MEGA MAN! OR LINK!

Class sessions were over for the day at the Institute, and as the students gleefully ran out of the room to freedom, Rogue found herself wishing she could do the same. She'd decided that she'd been putting off talking to Emma for long enough, and rather than waiting for her pride to dissuade her, she turned in the opposite direction the young students had left and went to find Frost.

The blonde was where she'd always been the last few times Rogue had briefly spoken to her, in her office, behind a large wooden desk. It suited Frost in a strange sense, as if it helped convey her strictness and rigidity. Rogue desperately wanted to keep walking, move past the door and forget the whole thing, but she didn't.

The door to her office was open, and no one else was inside, but Frost looked as busy as ever, several large stacks of papers cluttered across her desk. Rogue was almost certain the telepath knew she was coming, but to be polite, she knocked on the door frame.

Milkshake: Our characters will have to split a milkshake

She was the last person he had expected to see. But he had prepared for this. So the second he sees her walk into the entrance area he's by her side. She seems to be rather unimpressed with his mother's home so far but then he'd never accuse her of letting the poker face slip.

"Dear Miss Frost, how nice for you to come by on our opening day." He felt more threatened than pleased though. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder (her bare shoulder, jesus, but it's cold outside!) and steered her a little to the side, so they're not standing in front of the entrance anymore.

"I would have thought you'd stay as far away as possible." He takes another sip of his milkshake. It's not very sweet and there's far too much milk, but one of the little kids had shoved it in his hands and she had looked to hopeful he just had to take it, say thank you and drink it in front of her and be all impressed and say thank you again.

Still, it's not bad. And it hides his face from Emmas cold stare. The she grins and it makes her beautiful face twist into something evil and ugly.

"I see you've started this little daycare after all. I would have thought that screwing a mutant has lost its novelty by now and you'll drop that promise like the unreliable drunk that you are."

To his devence, that milkshake just slipped right out of his hand and into her face without his mental input. Reflex. Can't be held responsive for things like this.

He's just as surprised by his reaction as she is, but he forces a smile on his face. "Let me get you a towel for that, Miss Frost. And then I'll show you to the door."

Jean stood in front of the old oak door with a mixed bag of emotions. As far as she knew she was the last one to be in her room. The only other person she could think of would be Xavier, at least since she was gone. Being in the institute had triggered enough memories on it's own, she hadn't dare find her room. But the time had come and it was with trepidation that she slipped the old key into the lock. With a soft click the door swung open and Jean stepped into the room.  The smell was what hit her first. Must and dust of course but underlying was the scent of perfume applied a little to heavily by a teenage girl who didn't know what she was doing, the smell of books, and something that was distinctly her. Rather like a burned out candle or match. Looking around the room was exactly has she had left it. A thin layer of dust covered most things but not terribly so. The bed was made with an old quilted red duvet and a Effanbee baby doll sat perched on top of the pillows her little green dress faded by time and sunlight. Tears welled in Jean's eyes.