X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Totoro on 26-01-2017, 12:22:41</h2>
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				Title: <strong>X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Totoro</strong> on <strong>26-01-2017, 12:22:41</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>X-Men: American Civil War -Academic Classrooms </strong></span></span></div><br><div align="center">(https://cdn-images-1.medium.com/max/800/0*hWPRvFVNzCZdQp13.jpg)</div><br>These classrooms are used to teach more traditional topics not relating to mutation or anything superhuman. Topics such as history, maths, English or science. They are mandatory for all students under 18, and more advanced classes are recommended for any with an interest in learning and bettering themselves. While the topics may seem less interesting there have been many advances and changes particularly in the field of science, and so it has become drastically more of a curiosity to many of the mutant students. <br><br><strong>Current Time Period:</strong> Monday 15th - Sunday 21st September, 2017<br><br><strong>Post format:</strong><br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://placeholdit.imgix.net/~text?txtsize=14&amp;txt=150%C3%97200&amp;w=150&amp;h=200)</div><strong>Name:</strong> (Either 'Superhero' name or human name, up to you)<br><strong>Location:</strong> (Where are they?)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> (At least the date, preferably a rough time of day too)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> (What characters are you speaking with or mentioning)<br><strong>Content:</strong> (What's happening? Use this to include any warnings for touchy/sensitive subjects please. Don't post smut outside of the specific thread.)<br><hr><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><div class="codeheader">Code: <a href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);" class="codeoperation">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[hr]<br>[floatleft][img height=200]https://placeholdit.imgix.net/~text?txtsize=14&amp;txt=150%C3%97200&amp;w=150&amp;h=200[/img][/floatleft]<br>[b]Name:[/b] (Either 'Superhero' name or human name, up to you)<br>[b]Location:[/b] (Where are they?)<br>[b]Date/Time:[/b] (At least the date, preferably a rough time of day too)<br>[b]Tagging:[/b] (What characters are you speaking with or mentioning)<br>[b]Content:[/b] (What's happening? Use this to include any warnings for touchy/sensitive subjects please. Don't post smut outside of the specific thread.)<br>[hr]</code></pre><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong><span class="bbc_u">OOC Thread Links:</span></strong></span></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Recruitment Thread</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261698.0)</div><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">OOC Chat</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261903.0)</div><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Wanted Adds</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262276.0)</div><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">X-Men Character Sheets (PC's)</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.0)</div><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Brotherhood of Mutants Character sheets (NPC's)</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261921.0)</div><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Worldbuilding Thread</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261694.msg12908401#msg12908401)</div></div></div></div><br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>IC Thread Links:</strong></span></span></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Hub Thread</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262224.0)<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>The X-Mansion</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262264.0)<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>The Student Dormitories and Teacher's Rooms</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262267.0)<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>The X-Mansion Grounds</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262268.0)<br><br><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Academic Classrooms</span></strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262269.0)<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Mutant Studies Classes</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262270.0)<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>X-Mansion Sub Basement</strong></span> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262271.0)<br><br><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Smut Thread</span></strong> &nbsp;(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=262272.0)</div></div></div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>03-02-2017, 05:00:25</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/e0KtfDX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> David ‘Dave’ Alleyne<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean Grey’s classroom/office<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Friday September 1st, Evening <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> Two old friends catch up and compare students/notes <br><hr><strong><br>“I don’t know there Red. You might have some competition for the best students in your class. I’ve got some good kids in my classes this year”</strong> David Alleyne said with a small smile on his dark face, looking over the list of his students as though they were the roster of a fantasy football team, a gleaming twinkle found in his eyes. There was something relaxing about the simple action of comparing his students with those of the other teacher in the makeshift office. He wasn’t sure he’d enjoy the activity quite so much if it weren’t for the partner there with him though. It had actually been Jean who started it, boasting about one of the students in her own class. He hadn’t even intended to stay and chat for long, just planning on dropping of a few forms and lesson plans for her to look over, but their fell into old rhythms almost immediately. She always seemed to have a way to draw him in, to get him out of the introverted shell that he so often found himself in. Not through her powers though, just from being her. From being Jean Grey. Some teachers he hadn’t talked to for more than five minutes at a time, but she got him to speak about his students with pride as though he was a doting parent. <br><br><br>&nbsp;<strong>“Kitty Pryde hated math last semester, but now I’ve got her working on college level projects.”</strong> The confident grin faded as he spoke though, one of his large hands scratching at the back of his head in embarrassment, his mouth forming more of an embarrassed grimace <strong>“I mean, she still doesn’t love the field, but she at least recognizes the purpose and the need for it.</strong>” It didn’t sound like a great deal but for David it felt like a massive leap forward. Xavier’s was a different school that most, but he still remembered the few times he’d had to teach as a grad student at his old university. So many of the students were there for only because it was a required course and were going to try their best to forgot what he taught them when the course was over. It was nice that there were hardly any required courses at Xavier's so the students who were in class generally wanted to be there, but he could still recognize those who were there out of a sense of obligation rather than a genuine interest. So that fact that he could get someone from hate to acceptance and semi-interest was a big step.<strong> “And my TA, Salem, she’s got a real knack for it. If we did a best TA competition, I’d win hands down”</strong><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>08-02-2017, 02:25:20</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 1, evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> David Alleyne<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>Jean Grey had been going through the student roster for her class this term and David, aka Prodigy, had suggested they compare notes. She invited him up to her classroom as she began to prepare the room. With her telekinesis, she rearranged chairs and put books along the shelves. She was wearing a brown pencil skirt with a maroon colored blazer and a yellow shirt underneath it. <br><br>Soon after, David arrived and they sat together at her desk to get everything ready. She noticed his enthusiasm, which drew a smile from her lips, <strong>“Now, Mr. Alleyne, I do believe you’re getting ahead of yourself. The term is just starting.”</strong> She retorted with a smirk. She may not admit it, but she enjoys a little competition. Friendly competition, of course. And David was a trusted friend from her college days. They had met at a lecture by his father at Metro College. Jean’s own father was also a professor, and so they started talking and getting along real well. In fact, they briefly dated, but Jean’s focus was on her studies and being an X-Man, which took most of her time away from any personal life. <br><br><strong>“I think some of my students will find the added bonus worth working harder.”</strong> Jean had planned on getting the students more freedom outside of the school, but they had to show that they could be trusted with their powers and that they were getting good grades as well. This would hopefully encourage them to try harder. <br><br>Looking at David, Jean leaned back in her chair, <strong>“Have you spoken with your father?”</strong> She asked him, <strong>“He must be very proud of you, Dave. You have achieved so much already.”</strong> She knew David always pushed himself hard, possibly to try and measure up to the expectations placed upon him. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>09-02-2017, 19:23:19</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/e0KtfDX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> David ‘Dave’ Alleyne<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean Grey’s classroom/office<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Friday September 1st, Evening <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> Two old friends catch up and compare students/notes <br><hr><strong><br>“Being able to get outside the mansion is a pretty good incentive to get good grades.”</strong> David said with a smile of his own and a nod of acceptance. Even though he supported Jean’s push to get some of the kids into the real world from time to time, and was planning to go along as a chaperone when he could, he couldn’t offer that to any of his own students. As a relatively new teacher and a newly registered mutant he didn’t have the credibility with Xavier or with those government agents capable of giving out passes. <strong>“I don’t think I could offer anything quite that good. You might just win this round…”</strong><br><br>Even as he spoke, seemingly admitting defeat, there was a part of his mind that was trying to figure out a way to get his students more invested. Kitty had seemed to become much more interested when he explained that he would let her do work on the danger room if she kept her grades up. Maybe he could offer things like that? Letting the top few students help him while he was repairing the danger room, the Blackbird, and all the other miscellaneous X-men equipment. There were worse ways to encourage academic behavior afterall. <br><br>The mention of his father actually made David shift uncomfortably in his seat.<strong> “We actually haven’t talked since I came to Xavier’s”</strong> He finally admitted, not wanting to look her in the eyes. <strong>“When I told him and mom about my powers, we had an argument that got ugly. Not physical violence ugly, but enough that I’m not welcome back home.” </strong><br><br><strong>“He hates cheaters, people who take the easy route out. And when I explained my power to him, I could tell that he thought my mutation was the reason I’d been able to move up the academic ladder so quickly... I didn’t handle that implication well”</strong> Those were the words he said, but there was a rich tapestry of backstory and unspoken truths that Jean would know. To say that Christopher Alleyne disliked those who cheated was a massive understatement. Even as a professor at a respected University, he had a reputation for strictly enforcing the school’s zero tolerance policy more than any other teacher would. In the last year, he’d had more students expelled thanks to the rule than any other professor. To him, those who took the easy way out didn’t deserve the knowledge. It was actually a lesson that his son had taken to heart at a young age. For David it would have been so easy to just skate through his classes and then immediately forget the material. But he wanted to learn, to understand the forces of the universe. So he studied harder than any other student, building rudimentary power-blockers and studying in complete solitude to prevent anyone else’s knowledge from interfering with his learning. <br><br><strong>“You know how hard I worked to get where I am.”</strong> His voice was quiet, reserved, as he said that singular sentence, more to himself than to Jean.&nbsp; Though she more than just about anyone would know how much he’d pushed himself. One of the reasons they broke up was just how devoted they were to their pursuits; Jean to her own studies and to the X-men, and David’s quest for the highest academic rank. Not that either would say it, but they both knew that if one had just been able to yield just a little bit then they might still be together. If David hadn’t been so hellbent on advancing and keeping his abilities secret, if he’d admitted to the world that he was a mutant years before he’d actually done, their lives might have taken a different path. But that wasn’t what happened. He <em>needed</em> to prove that he could do it without using his powers, more to himself than to anyone else. David had always prided himself on all that he’d done without using his abilities, so to have his own father think that he was capable of using them for personal gain… it hurt him in a way he wasn’t used to. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>12-02-2017, 14:18:27</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 1, evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> David Alleyne<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br><strong>“Well, nothing is set in stone yet.”</strong> Jean replied, knowing that while David was a competitive person, the one that he was always trying to out-do was himself. She didn’t want to push too much because she wanted to make sure that he had the time to enjoy himself while he worked hard towards his goal. She remembered back in college whenever some of her friends were going to a concert and Jean invited Dave to come along but he would pass in order to study for an exam that was still a month away. For the moment, she wanted him to enjoy his time here and not take things too seriously, despite his attempts at trying to sound ambivalent. <br><br>When she brought up the subject of his father, Jean could easily sense the tension that came over David, even though it was quite subtle. From the way he avoided her green eyes, she wondered if she had brought up a tender subject. She listened to him and felt empathy for him. When she revealed her powers to her parents, they weren’t sure how to react. Because she can feel emotions, she could sense everything that went on in their heads. Doubt, fear, even a tinge of disappointment. It hurt, but she also could sense the love that they had for her. Perhaps David’s father also felt that way, even though she knew him to be pretty stern, but didn’t know how to express it. Sometimes it is harder to open up to those you should be closer to. Telling people you love them should be easy, yet over time they simply stop doing it. <br><br>Reaching out, Jean placed a hand on top of his, <strong>“Dave, I’m sorry.”</strong> She said, looking straight into his eyes sincerely. <strong>“He will come around. He worked all his life to provide a good life for you. He loves you, but he needs to process this in his own way too.”</strong> She tried to make sure he didn’t hang onto any negative feelings towards his father. It wasn’t healthy for him. <br><br><strong>“As a telepath, being able to read minds was something I had to be constantly aware of as well.”</strong> She told him, trying to level with him. <strong>“Whenever we had a test and I came upon a hard problem, the temptation to look into other’s minds for the answer was always there. Even shutting them out was a burden, at times, because I could feel their nervousness and insecurities, which could influence me as well. That, or I’d get a wrong answer floating through my head.”</strong> She chuckled lightly and then noticed she’d been touching his hand this whole time. <strong>“Excuse me.”</strong> She said as she slowly removed her hand. <br><br><strong>“Let’s work hard to change public opinion about us. It will be a start.” </strong>Jean said as she put away some of her notes. She liked David, but didn’t want to complicate things too quickly. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>14-02-2017, 21:27:38</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/e0KtfDX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> David ‘Dave’ Alleyne<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean Grey’s classroom/office<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Friday September 1st, Evening <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> Two old friends catch up and compare students/notes <br><hr><br>At Jean’s reassurance, David let out a soft sigh. He knew she was right of course, his father did love him and would likely come around with time. But to hear his own father, a man he’d tried to emulate and model himself after, tell him that he didn’t deserve his degree… it had hurt. Even now, months later, it still made David’s fists clench just to think of it. No one in the Alleyne family was violent, but in that moment he and his father almost came to blows. Jean’s words calmed him down enough though. Afterall, she was one of the few one could understands his struggle better than anyone else. She might have even had it worse than he did; Answers, fears, wrong ideas, and emotions would have all been struggling to gain entrance into her mind. <br><br>Her hand on his was a reassuring touch though he didn’t fight when she removed it. Much as he enjoyed being close to her, they both needed to be friends and colleagues more than they needed to be lovers again. One breakup had been able to end amicably but there was no reason to believe that a second breakup would end as easily as their previous one had. And the last thing Xavier’s needed was two of the professors, two of the x-men, who couldn’t stand being in the same room together. There was a moment of sad acceptance but he knew it was for the best. <br><br>The call to action, saying that changing public opinion was the most important thing they could do, made David actually crack a smile. It was idealistic and so nebulous that it might be impossible, but that’s what Xavier’s was for if nothing else. <strong>“You’re right, changing public opinion is the most important thing we can do. I’ve talked to Professor Xavier about it, but most of the things we’ve come up with are more long term actions. Without something more immediate, there might not be a long term to plan for. Count me if for whatever you have planned.”</strong>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>14-02-2017, 23:31:29</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 1, evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> David Alleyne<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>Jean nodded with a smile, <strong>"Good. I've already contacted Ambassador Smith to come meet with us a couple of days from now."</strong> She told him, <strong>"I'd like you to be there as well. Not only because you present a good image of our school, but because I know you believe in this just as much as I do. I respect that."</strong> She was really glad that Dave was here with her. He was very smart and would be able to help with any questions the ambassador would pose. <br><br>Somehow, facing whatever came their way together would make it worth it, she could tell that much. They had been friends for years now, so she was comfortable with him. For the moment their relationship was only professional, but sometimes Jean wondered where they would be if they had pursued something romantic. Perhaps it was best not to dwell on those feelings, she thought to herself. <br><br><strong>"Well, I'm exhausted from today."</strong> She stood up and stretched her arms a bit, <strong>"If you have any other ideas on how we can make a better approach towards our goal, be sure to share them with the ambassador. If this doesn't work, I'm not sure what will."</strong> She said as she put away her notes. She was putting a lot of effort into this meeting, but if it didn't go well, who knew where that would leave the mutants of the future.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>06-03-2017, 19:09:12</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne deals with the nerves of meeting a new student at the school, and the fact that she's been asked to tutor her. <br><hr><br>Rahne let out a breath to try and calm herself, as she walked into the classroom. It was one of the spare classrooms, not assigned to any specific professor, which mainly meant there was no office attached to it. There were no classes being help in it that morning, leaving it free for the task that the school staff had asked her to do for them. Academically, Rahne was a model student after all. She studied hard, she finished her assignments on time, and had top grades--especially when compared to perfectionists like Salem Summers or geniuses like David Alleyne. She had a reason to try and excel academically, though. Her adoptive mother, Moira MacTaggart, was one of the smartest women on the planet. Not pushing herself, and potentially disappointing the woman she owed everything to, was a thing Rahne simply couldn't do.<br><br>The redheaded young woman had another quality, though, that had made her a quick pick for being a tutor to a new student--she was nice. Too nice, some might say, and had the patience of a saint. She was also socially reserved, and a few believed that this little task for her could help her get out and meet and open up to more people than the two girls she shared a dorm room with. <br><br>It was a hope, anyway.<br><br>But Rahne was well aware of her social limitations. Almost running late because she couldn't settle on what to wear, she was relieved to see she was the first one in the room. What she had settled on was probably over-dressing for the occasion--a beautiful, simple dressthat left her arms bare, ending in a skirt that cut a good few inches above her knees. Classy and tasteful, without being immodest. The kind of dress one might expect the "hot" teacher in a school to wear. Not a lot of make-up was on a face that, truthfully, didn't need much--she was fine with a bit of eye liner and light mascara. Her hair was pulled back, bangs parted to one side of her face...She hadn't noticed the looks she had caught from some of the boys as she walked through the halls to the classroom, a messenger bag with a few books in it, and of course her Bible, and a few papers she would need. Her only accessory was a simple, silver cross she wore around her neck, the polish worn from constant handling of it.<br><br>Picking a spot to sit, facing the door, she pulled out a few books. All she had really been given was the name of the girl to expect--Abigail Kreuger. And that was it. Only told she needed some extra help catching up to other academically, Rahne really had no idea what to expect. There were nervous butterflies in her chest, at the prospect of being forced to meet someone new. Humming softly to herself as she waited, one of the books she pulled out was a large sketch pad, and a charcoal pencil, starting to draw and sketch as she waited.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>06-03-2017, 20:13:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/prettylittleliars/images/b/be/Ashley-benson-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110721175302)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Abigail Krueger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12988378#msg12988378)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Abigail tries to get over and annoyance of being forced to have a tutor.<br><hr><br>While her first day, and night for that matter, had shown Abigail that being here wasn't going to be so bad, the last couple of days had done a lot of damage to that belief.&nbsp; It had all started when she'd been woken early on the 9th and told that she had to take a series of tests.&nbsp; This had already put her in a bad mood since she hated the idea of taking tests, but she'd been left with no other choice.&nbsp; So she'd gotten up and spent the next six or seven hours taking a number of tests covering all sorts of material from math to history to sciences and English.&nbsp; Once she was done, she'd been informed that they were placement tests designed to determine her academic level and what class she should be inserted into.&nbsp; They would be graded that night and a determination be made, but Abigail already knew that it would be bad for her.<br><br>The truth of the matter was she'd only received a formal education until the age of ten when she ran away from the orphanage. After that, she'd never bothered much with learning unless it was something that would benefit her efforts to survive.&nbsp; While she was by no means an idiot, she knew that she wasn't as educated as most of the kids around here would be and knew that when the tests were graded, it would show.&nbsp; And sure enough, the tests had determined that in most courses, she had at best an 8th or 9th graders understanding of the subjects. Still better than she'd expected, but not nearly where she knew she would've been had she gone through high school like a normal kid.&nbsp; Eventually, it was determined that normal classes wouldn't work and that a tutor would be more effective and one had been assigned to her without her input.<br><br>No, she'd just been told where to be and when.&nbsp; So it was that she found herself walking down the halls towards a classroom.&nbsp; She was sporting a simple black tee-shirt that she'd borrowed from Kitty and a pair of worn blue jeans that were hers from before she'd been brought here.&nbsp; She was a few minutes late, but she didn't care as she opened the door and caught her first look at the girl.&nbsp; She couldn't be any older than Medusa herself and had vibrant red hair.&nbsp; She was also massively overdressed for the situation which made Abigail more than a little self conscious about the situation.&nbsp; &nbsp;Seeing the girl was sketching, she rolled her eyes slightly and sat down at an unused seat across from the other girl and looked at her.<br><br><strong>"So you're going to be my tutor?"</strong> she asked, a slight sneer on the word 'tutor', <strong>"I'm Abigail.&nbsp; And you are?"</strong>&nbsp; She wasn't actually trying to be a bitch here, but she was annoyed at this whole situation. And when she was annoyed then it wasn't uncommon for her to come off as a little bit snide and bitchy.&nbsp; But still, she took a folder and handed it to the other girl.&nbsp; <strong>"I was told to give you this,"</strong> she said, <strong>"I guess it's some sort of course guide or something. I don't know, it didn't make sense to me."</strong>&nbsp; When Rahne got a look at it, she'd see it was instructions on what to start with and how to measure progress, giving her a good starting point once introductions were out of the way.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>06-03-2017, 21:45:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne wonders if she is in over head head, but tries to stay polite and make things work. <br><hr><br>Rahne looked up when she had the door opening. And much to her shame, she noticed one thing immediately--this girl was beautiful. That along would have been enough to put some color on the Scot's cheeks. Still struggling with accepting her sexuality, being at a school filled with so many attractive women was a challenge, to put it lightly. Living with two such young women at night had to be a test from on high, she was certain. One she was failing, if some recent dreams were any indication. But with a shift in her seat, and looked back down at her sketchbook, closing it and sliding the pencil back into the binding, to return to later. <em>Just focus on the academics,</em> she told herself. If she could do that, she would be fine.<br><br>But the red on her cheeks only darkened as she realized just how overdressed she was, now. Seeing the blonde's simple black tee, and worn jeans, Rahne more than a bit out of place. Why, oh why, had she thought this was going to be a prim and proper affair? Instead of making a good first impression, she probably looked like some no-life prude. Which, in a way, she was, but this girl didn't need to know that.<br><br>Finally, Abigail spoke, her tone short, a sneer on her lips. Rahne's eyes widened slightly, and the flush on her face was finally fully present. This was not off to a good start at all, it seemed...But she forced a soft smile, choosing to just turn the other cheek. If this girl was new, she was probably still adjusting to the fact that her life was so...different, now, from whatever it had been before. <br><br>'Ah'm Rahne. It's nice to meet you--" she started, her Scottish accent giving away her heritage, if the hair and paleness hadn't. She was cut off by the girl handing her a folder, and blinking, she just nodded and took it, opening it to look through. It was a summary of where Abigail had placed, and a basic guideline for where to start. Rahne had never taught someone before, though, and she had assumed she would just be helping someone with current-level stuff. Not help someone get caught up. This would be...interesting? Interesting was probably the word.<br><br>"Okay...Well, Ah guess the nice thing 'bout this is, we can make our own schedule, right?" she said, hoping offering an olive branch early would make this easier. Abigail didn't seem thrilled to be here, after all. "An' we don' have to meet in a classroom, if you migh' be more comfortable somewhere else? Maybe? They just have a small guide in here...Is there anything you want t' start with?" Her tone was polite, friendly. Her nerves showed though, as she often chewed on her bottom lip when not speaking, or holding the cross at her neck, stroking it with a thumb. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 03:46:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/prettylittleliars/images/b/be/Ashley-benson-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110721175302)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Abigail Krueger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12988378#msg12988378)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Abigail tries to get over and annoyance of being forced to have a tutor.<br><hr><br>Medusa noticed the blush starting to form from the very moment that she entered the room.&nbsp; And it told her a lot about the girl in front of her, almost as much as her choice of clothing did.&nbsp; The blush showed that this was a girl that struggled with her self confidence and the fact that she was overdressed indicated one of two possible things.&nbsp; Either she was extremely prim and proper and didn't dress down for any reason whatsoever or she had been unsure how to approach this situation and had thus gone massively overboard.&nbsp; And given the blush, she was going to bet on the latter since someone that was very prim and proper was unlikely to have any issues with her self confidence and thus wouldn't be blushing, or at least that had been the experience that Medusa had had with people.&nbsp; And while she was on the streets, reading people had been a valuable tool to her survival, so she'd learned it very carefully.<br><br>As the girl started talking, her accent gave her away as Scottish, which she honestly hadn't been expecting, but then again with her pale skin and hair, she should've figured it out easily.&nbsp; After handing the girl the folder, she leaned back in her chair and stared at Rahne.&nbsp; She knew what the folder contained as she'd read it.&nbsp; And while she didn't understand all of the terms and words in it, a reminder that she did actually need some education, she had gotten the gist of it.&nbsp; She needed work in pretty much every major academic area and it would fall to Rahne to start getting her on the path to being successful.&nbsp; And based on what she'd read, she knew that the Professor had expected that this would be a long term process given her lack of education and a part of her was annoyed at this, but she found that she had no other choice.&nbsp; It was either play the game the way she was told to play it or find herself risking a return to prison, which was much worse than this place.&nbsp; At least here, the cage was gilded.<br><br>When the olive branch of making their own schedule was offered, Medusa honestly thought about swatting it away and continuing to be a bitch.&nbsp; But she had to remind herself that no matter how big of a bitch she was, she would still have to do this and if this girl decided she couldn't handle it, then someone else would be chosen.&nbsp; And she suspected that whoever it was that would follow her wouldn't be as willing to apparently make this easier for her.&nbsp; So with that in mind, she made the decision that she would, at least, give this girl a chance.&nbsp; So when the option of holding these sessions other places came up, she nodded lightly.&nbsp; <strong>"Honestly, I'm more of a night person, so I'd like to do these later in the day,"</strong> she said, <strong>"And maybe in one of the lounges.&nbsp; Classrooms make me feel really uncomfortable."</strong><br><br>Her discomfort came from her years at the orphanage.&nbsp; The nuns that had run the place had also taught classes to all of the kids and they had no problems with using a rules to smack a kid when they suspected that they weren't paying attention or not trying hard enough.&nbsp; Or even if they just felt like making an example, something that had happened to Medusa a number of times since she had seemingly always been in the wrong place at the wrong time.&nbsp; The sad part was she'd actually enjoyed the classes and worked hard in them, but yet she always seemed to get punished for some reason or another and thus she'd slowly developed a dislike for classrooms and classroom settings, although she would not be telling any of this to Rahne or anyone else really since that was intensely personal and also a part of her life that she wanted to forget and never think about again.<br><br>When the subject of where she wanted to start came up, she looked at the other girl and noticed her chewing her bottom lip.&nbsp; It was a clear sign that she was nervous, something that she actually found to be a bit comforting as it meant that she wasn't the only one struggling with this.&nbsp; And her eyes also noticed the cross that hung on the girl's neck as she played with it.&nbsp; That cross added to the bad memories, but she didn't say anything about it.&nbsp; Instead, she shrugged her shoulders.&nbsp; <strong>"Fuck it,"</strong> she uttered almost carelessly, <strong>"Might as well start with something I used to be good at.&nbsp; Let's start with math."</strong>&nbsp; And it was true since she had done extremely well in math as a little girl.&nbsp; She just hoped that her skills in that subject hadn't crumbled entirely.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 04:21:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne wonders if she is in over head head, but tries to stay polite and make things work. <br><hr><br>Rahne hummed softly, and tried to hide her relief, when Abigail accepted her little peace offering.&nbsp; She was reluctant to disappoint the Professor (again) by giving up on the task of helping girl girl. But she knew she didn't have the strength of personality to match the blonde if this became a battle of wills. If Abigail wanted to be rude, to be bitchy, and not take this seriously, she couldn't change that.<br><br>But it thankfully didn't seem to be an issue. The redhead just made a note to schedule these meeting later in the day. She never had much going on, so, that was no real difficulty for her. At the mention of ckassrooms, though, she frowned. <br><br>"Oh, Ah'm sorry...Ah didn't know. Yes, we can go t' a lounge, or...Even one of our rooms, if that migh' be more comfortable." she offered with a friendly smile.<br><br>Her cheeks stayed red at the rather vulgar way the blonde chose their first topic. Math it was, then. She shuffled her books around, and from the folder, pulled out a worksheet they could work on together. It was simple algebra to start with.<br><br>"Let's start here then...D'you remember the order of operations?" she asked. As they started to work, her tone stayed soft and friendly, no matter how often she might have to explain something. But, they coukd also only get so far without knowing each other better.<br><br>"So, um, Abigail...Do you like it here?" she asked as they took a break. "If, um...you don't mind me asking. Just thought we might...get to know each other some." She hoped that sounded friendly, and not like she was eyeing the girl up. Which she was trying very hard not to do...But spending a few hours every day with Abigail was going to be difficult, that was for sure. So pretty...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 05:09:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/prettylittleliars/images/b/be/Ashley-benson-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110721175302)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Abigail Krueger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12988378#msg12988378)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Is trying to play nice, but the whole tutoring thing is difficult for her to handle.<br><hr><br>With Rahne's willingness to move the time and place of their meetings, Medusa felt a bit better about this whole thing.&nbsp; It made her feel like she had a bit of control over the situation and having some control was something that made everything alot easier to handle.&nbsp; <strong>"Here is fine for today,"</strong> she said, <strong>"But yeah, next time let's just do it in my room.&nbsp; Kitty is usually gone around that time according to her, so I don't think she'd mind that much."</strong>&nbsp; At this point, she had no idea how many roommates Rahne did or didn't have, but she wasn't going to try and impose on the girl's space for her own benefit.<br><br>Once math was decided on, Medusa looked at the worksheet that had been pulled out of the folder.&nbsp; A few of the things on it looked familiar to her, but a number of them didn't and actually made her feel bad since she had thought she was good at this stuff.&nbsp; However, much to her surprise, Rahne stayed calm and patient with her despite having to explain things multiple times to the young women who had been so far out of touch with the education system.&nbsp; Still, she did make some progress, but not nearly enough for her liking and she was starting to get frustrated when Rahne decided to take a break and talk about more personal things.&nbsp; And Medusa was glad for it.<br><br><strong>"Honestly, I don't really know yet,"</strong> she admitted, <strong>"I've only been here for a few days and so far, I suppose that it's been alright."</strong>&nbsp; She paused as she looked at the other woman.&nbsp; It was clear that she was trying so hard to not mess this whole thing up and Medusa decided that if this girl was going to try, then she would attempt to do the same.&nbsp; <strong>"And I suppose that we could try to get to know each other,"</strong> she said, <strong>"But I will admit that I'm sorry for being bitchy.&nbsp; This whole thing just bothers me.&nbsp; I didn't need any of this to survive on the streets, so why would I need them now?&nbsp; I mean, how many people actually use alot of these things in everyday life?"</strong><br><br>She let out a low sigh as she tried to calm down.&nbsp; She hadn't meant to rant on Rahne like that, but it had happened and given how Rahne had been acting, she feared that it would upset the other girl.&nbsp; So she searched for something to talk about that didn't involve the schooling stuff.&nbsp; <strong>"So ummmmmmm yeah,"</strong> she said as she felt a bit bad, <strong>"So how did you end up coming here?&nbsp; It seems like everyone around here has a story and I'm curious about what yours is."</strong>&nbsp; She looked at Rahne, hoping that this topic would be a bit easier to handle and let them both calm down a little bit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 19:07:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne wonders if she is in over head head, but tries to stay polite and make things work. <br><hr><br>"We can do that," Rahne said with an easy smile as Abigail said they could use her dorm room. It would be a slightly more intimate setting than Rahne felt quite comfortable with, but, she had made the offer. And, she realized soon, it wasn't her comfort that mattered. The blonde wasn't stupid, that much she could see, but it was issues focusing and not getting frustrated too quickly that were slowly them down. Perhaps a comfortable setting, where the girl could relax and be herself, was exactly what they needed. Starting tomorrow, of course. Progress was going to be slow, that much she could see, and maybe she would need to talk to some of her own professors about suggestions on how to...well, teach. <br><br>But they started their break, and the redhead listened as Abigail explained she hadn't been at the school long. That was fair, it was hard to have an opinion so soon. What else could she ask, though? She didn't want to get too personal, liking asking about her powers would be. Plus, that would invite the question in return, and Rahne wanted to avoid that topic as long as possible. <br><br>"It's a nice place here...Ah like it," she said softly. As Abigail went into her short rant about actually needing this stuff, though, Rahne looked down at her books and paper. That she had no answer for. Not a good one anyway. "Well...You don't want t'return to the streets, after all this...right? Xavier offers a lot here...you can try and pursue something you would want to do. And it all needs at least passing levels here..." Not the best words, but, she was trying. <br><br>The topic change was welcome...somewhat.<br><br>"Me mum sent me here..." she said softly, shrugging a bit, "She...adopted me from a small town in Scotland. After a...thing Ah did, that many weren't happy with. So she sent me here for my safety." It was close enough to the truth anyway, without going into details. It hit the basics--she was an orphan, adopted, and sent here. Abigail didn't need to know she turned into a feral werewolf, and had been hunted by her hometown to be burned alive as a devilspawn. "Ah wouldn't say Ah have an interesting story though...Um, what about you? If Ah can ask?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 19:42:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/prettylittleliars/images/b/be/Ashley-benson-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110721175302)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Abigail Krueger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12988378#msg12988378)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Is trying to play nice, but the whole tutoring thing is difficult for her to handle.<br><hr><br>She could sense that the idea of doing the classes in her dorm room was a bit uncomfortable for Rahne, but she just figured that the girl was a bit nervous about entering Abigail's personal space and would get over it quickly.&nbsp; And if not, then they could think about going somewhere else, but it would be a good place to start and let Abigail hopefully relax a little bit.&nbsp; And right now, she needed to relax because this whole education thing was starting to get on her nerves and make her hate this whole thing.&nbsp; When they finally took a break, she was grateful for that and would gladly talk about anything to avoid continuing with this torture disguised as education because that's definitely what it was.<br><br>The talk about what she might wanna do after all of this caught her off guard.&nbsp; She had never really thought about what she wanted to do.&nbsp; She'd always been so consumed with the idea of surviving from one day to the next that the idea that survival might not be a concern someday had never occurred to her.&nbsp; She frowned for a moment as she thought about it.&nbsp; Abigail had no idea what she'd want to actually do, but returning to the streets wasn't it.&nbsp; <strong>"I've never, you know, thought about stuff like that,"</strong> she said softly, <strong>"I suppose it's something that I'm going to have to start thinking about one of these days."</strong><br><br>However, today wasn't that day and she was glad to move on to talking about their pasts.&nbsp; At least that was something she didn't have to worry about hiding since it was clear that alot of people around here had rough histories as well.&nbsp; As Rahne talked a bit about her past, it was obvious that she wasn't giving all the details, or even most of the details.&nbsp; But Abigail knew not to pry too hard.&nbsp; Everyone had their secrets and pushing for them too hard was a recipe for disaster.&nbsp; She'd let Rahne just tell her what she was comfortable with and leave it at that for now.&nbsp; But when it was her turn, Medusa had no issues with talking about her past and what she'd done to end up getting here.<br><br><strong>"My story.....I suppose to some it's interesting,"</strong> she admitted, <strong>"I was raised in a catholic orphanage until I was ten and then I ran away.&nbsp; Kept running for a few years until I ended up in Chicago and settled there.&nbsp; I had some friends....a lover.....but I lost him.&nbsp; After that, I did what I had to in order to survive."</strong>&nbsp; She paused as she looked at this girl and wondered if she could handle the rest of the story.&nbsp; She seemed to uptight to understand it, but Abigail would tell her anyway she decided.&nbsp; <strong>"My power allowed me to lure men in with the promise of sex, but as soon as we were alone, I'd incapacitate them and take their money before leaving them.&nbsp; It was an easy racket, after all whose gonna admit to being taken out by a hooker?"</strong>&nbsp; She smiled lightly at her comments as she watched Rahne's reactions.<br><br><strong>"Of course, it had to end eventually,"</strong> she admitted after a moment, <strong>"Someone up high in some government office was cruising for sex and found me.&nbsp; I thought it was a normal john and did my usual to him and a couple of days later, I'm surrounded by cops.&nbsp; They put me in jail and I was probably gonna be staying there if not for Xavier.&nbsp; He.....he did save me."</strong>&nbsp; The last few words tasted bitter in her mouth as she admitted them.&nbsp; Jail or prison would've been awful for her and she knew it.&nbsp; Like it or not, Xavier had saved her from a bad fate and brought her here where she might have a chance.&nbsp; She supposed she at least owed it to the man to try at this academic stuff if that was all he was really asking of her.&nbsp; <strong>"So why don't we give this question another shot, huh?&nbsp; So what exactly am I missing here?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>10-03-2017, 20:58:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne wonders if she is in over head head, but tries to stay polite and make things work. <br><hr><br>Rahne blinked, surprised when the blonde admitted she was raised in an orphanage. A Catholic orphanage at that. While not quite the same, Reverend Craig preached along more Protestant lines, along one of the many branching denominations, the core principals of their upbringing had to be the same. She hadn't really met anyone before with a similar childhood, although a quick glance over the blond hinted she hadn't walked away from it with the same feelings of faith that the reverend had left her with. At least, Abigail wore no visible crosses, or other such symbols.<br><br>"Oh, Ah...Ah did too. Not Catholic, but...Reverend Craig, he was in charge of m' orphanage. Ah ran away too, though, Ah think Ah was...eleven? Maybe twelve..." Their circumstances for running away weren't the same, even if, it seemed, they had been close to the same age. As she continued to listen though, it was clear what followed running away hadn't been close at all. Her cheeks reddened slightly as Abigail revealed she had been a kind of thief/prostitute, but, she didn't seem judgmental at the very least. It was not what she would have expected though...And it did plant the sinful, if tempting, picture in her mind of falling prey to the blonde's wiles.<br><br>But with a shake of her head, she looked away, before her eyes spent too much time traveling lower, and lower, on the blonde...<br><br>"We do...what we have t' do t' survive," she said softly, a bit of her embarrassment in her tone. At least she knew that this girl was into men. That would make it easier to keep her thoughts in line. "Ah wouldn't have survived, in the highlands...My power, it...The people Ah grew up with wanted to kill me over it. If me mum hadn't found me, saved me..." Another shake of her head, and she sighed. Their powers had come up, but, no talk on what they were just yet. And maybe they could keep it that way for a bit longer, at least as they shifted back to the math problems at hand. As Abigail asked what she was missing, Rahne scooted her chair a bit closer, so she could lean in next to Abigail and start pointing out where she was going wrong. It was a relatively simple mistake. "Ah had trouble with this one too. So, just look at it this way..." Her shoulder would lean slightly into Abigail, her arm brushing the girl's, as her hand covered the girl's briefly to borrow her pencil, and draw out a way to work through the problem in easier steps.<br><br>"Does that make sense?" she asked, turning to look at Abigail...and realizing how close she was. Cheeks went red again, and she let go of the girl's hand, hesitantly pulling back. "Ah, sorry, Ah wasn't meaning to...impose..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>13-03-2017, 00:51:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/prettylittleliars/images/b/be/Ashley-benson-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110721175302)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Abigail Krueger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12988378#msg12988378)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Is trying to play nice, but the whole tutoring thing is difficult for her to handle.<br><hr><br>When Rahne talked about being raised in an orphanage, Medusa was a bit stunned.&nbsp; What were the odds that the both of them had started their lives under such similar conditions.&nbsp; They had even run away without a couple of years of each other, something that actually gave Rahne a bit of respect in the mind of the somewhat jaded Abigail.&nbsp; Anyone that could run away like that showed that they had some guts, but it was clear from a number of things that her time in the orphanage had left a much deeper impression on Rahne than it had on Medusa, which was something that made Abigail think about seeing if she could help the girl deal with that.<br><br>As her backstory was revealed, she was relieved with how easily Rahne accepted the story of her past, but she couldn't help but notice that there was a slight bit of disappointment from the other girl that she couldn't place.&nbsp; It had nothing to do with Abigail's money making techniques, that much she was certain of.&nbsp; She debated asking, but eventually decided to just go ahead and let it go for now.&nbsp; After all, she might've just been imagining it since she didn't really know Rahne all that well.&nbsp; So instead, they went ahead and moved back to working on the math.&nbsp; It actually made her feel alot better when she realized that Rahne had trouble with it as well and she let the girl guide her hand, not minding the closeness at all.&nbsp; In fact, she rather enjoyed the feel of the other girl's soft body brushing against hers and didn't say anything.&nbsp; At least not until Rahne seemed to realize it and backed off.<br><br><strong>"Yes, yes it makes to me now, though I suspect I'll forget it before long,"</strong> she said with a smile as she looked up at Rahne, <strong>"And you didn't impose at all.&nbsp; In fact, I didn't mind having you that close at all."</strong>&nbsp; She winked playfully at Rahne, trying to rattle the girl just a little bit.&nbsp; After all, it was fairly clear to Abigail that Rahne didn't really have much comfort level with that sort of teasing and Abigail did love to tease a bit.&nbsp; Besides, the girl was very cute and now that Abigail wasn't so miserable about this tutoring thing, she couldn't help but be at least a little bit attracted to the girl.&nbsp; However, she doubted that this would accomplish much.&nbsp; She seemed like the more straight and narrow type to Abigail and they didn't tend to go for other girls as far as she'd seen.<br><br><strong>"Alright then, that's that one down,"</strong> she said lightly, <strong>"Now why don't you help me with this one too.&nbsp; And don't be afraid to get close again if you feel you have to."</strong>&nbsp; She smiled lightly as she waited for Rahne to help her with the question, which was one of the last few on the sheet.&nbsp; She was sure the girl would, but she wasn't so sure how Rahne would behave now that Abigail was teasing her a little bit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>13-03-2017, 01:56:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> An Unused Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Monday, Sept. 11, 2017 - 10:00 AM (1000)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Abigail Krueger | Medusa (CLOSED)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Rahne wonders if she is in over head head, but tries to stay polite and make things work. <br><hr><br>"Well, Ah guess Ah'll just have to show you again, then," Rahne said with a faint giggle. It was meant to be reassuring, after Abigail said that she would probably forget what she had just been shown. But, that was the point of this tutoring after all--However long they had to meet, she was going to be there to help the blonde get a grasp on these concept and subjects. She would do the best she could, at any rate. She would never claim to be the smartest or best teacher, but she would do whatever she had to do to help Abigail out. <br><br>It was a sentiment that might have changes if she had any gift of foresight. But the poor redhead had no idea just what the future had in store for her, because of this meeting.<br><br>Her cheek turned red at the blonde's teasing though, as she dropped her gaze shyly to the table. A hand tucked some red locks back behind an ear, as she tried to keep a smile off of her face as her heart fluttered slightly. The last week had been tough on the Scot. Between Psylocke's training, and possible seduction, her blooming friendship with Kitty, and the temptations that Yolande and Laura served as physical representations of, she was being worn down. A soft, shy smile twitched at her lips, but she let the teasing go, as she was asked for help on the next problem. And then Abigail made the comment of getting close again.<br><br>"Ah, well, Ah guess it worked last time..." she murmured softly, using that as an excuse as she almost timidly repeated the motion. Once again her hand covered Abigail's, their arms and shoulders brushing, as she leaned in close to help her with the rest of the problems...<br><br>Their time would fly by, going over a few more math problems and starting some history work, before it was decided they should break for the day. With plans to meet the following day in Abigail's room, later in the evening, the two went their separate ways...but the blush remained on Rahne's face for the rest of the day. <br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>-END OF SCENE-</strong></span></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>15-03-2017, 20:15:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/Chamber2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>Another late night and another miss of the tv... It honestly amazed Jono how many in the school really didn't need sleep and stayed up. Although he really never tried too hard for it anymore, he had found other ways to pass the night. That was the reason he came back on this night, simply to pass the time and wait for the TV to open up. The acoustic guitar was leaned up against a shoulder as black booted feet sounded on the floor. Jono left his coat in on his bed this night and simply kept on a Misfits t-shirt along with his jeans.<br><br>There was a time that he would've used his other electric guitar, but this late it became a problem. Well, he had been lectured about making too much noise as well. It was hard for Jonothon to keep the amplifier set low, but most of it was due to the memories of the old days. They were on his mind this night as well as he sat in the chair absently toying with the strings.<br><br>When the guitar was the way that Jono preferred it, he reached over to the device sitting beside him. Only a passing glance was spared at the CD in his hand, and that was only to insure that it went in the right way. Sure, an MP3 player might be better, but Jono really wasn't ready for an upgrade. If he could Jono would still use vinyl, but for shame that stash had been left at home. His hand dropped lower as the music started simply to turn down the volume and make sure his guitar playing would be louder. Fingers moved to strum the strings as he waited for that song to start.<br><br>Finally it was time as The Islander by Nightwish started... Jono's feet stomped to the beat that Jukka put down and the notes of the guitar changed to follow Emppu's own guitar work. Soon Marco's voice started in as Jono's thoughts went back to those old days with old mates and Gayle....
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>16-03-2017, 00:32:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/e3/19/d6e319cf0b62cbf2413c68fe2e853483.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Camelia "Cam" Tuft | Venom<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jono - CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> Unable to sleep<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Same as photo<br><hr><br>After laying in her dark dorm, under the covers and staring at the wall beside her bed for what felt like hours, Cam sighed and finally sat up in her bed. She looked over to her roommate, who was knocked out cold and had been sleeping basically since her head hit the pillow. She was envious. She didn't know what was keeping her up, but she knew that she needed to get out of bed and do something. She quietly got out of bed and grabbed a pair of thick, gray, thigh-high socks and pulled them on one at a time before leaving her dorm, only wearing the socks she just put on, a pair of black panties, and a plaid flannel button-down that was long enough to hide the fact that she didn't have shorts on. She closed her door slowly and quietly, not wanting to be rude to her roommate, then walked away from her room and down the hall.<br><br>Being alone was already causing her to feel a bit of anxiety, having always been used to having someone around. She hoped that someone, somewhere in this big mansion would still be up to keep her some company until she was tired enough to fall asleep.<br><br>Cam didn't have to walk too far away from the dorms before she began hearing some soft music playing from down the hallway in the academic wing. Maybe it was a teacher? But why wouldn't they be in their own room playing music? It being the first sign of life she found, she continued to walk towards it, her steps not making a sound due to her soft socks. As she got closer, she could hear that it wasn't just music playing from a speaker, but also what sounded like a live performance. The light from the music room flooded the darkened hallway just outside of its door, not more than thirty feet from her at this point. Biting her lower lip, Cam slowed her steps to make sure she wasn't heard, sneaking up to the doorway. She listened for a moment before finally peeking inside to see who it was.<br><br>Camelia had seen him around, but he always seemed to be someone who kept to himself, so she tended to let him be, knowing that some people needed time to come out of their shell. But right now, he was the first person she had found and she couldn't bring herself to leave him be any longer. Quietly, she listened to him play, waiting for the song to finish before she stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame as she spoke up. <strong>"You're really good. I wish I knew how to play something. I'm not really all that great at more than just singing, as far as music goes. Could I watch?"</strong> she asked before walking inside the classroom, not giving him a chance to say no. She took a seat on top of a desk and crossed her legs. <strong>"Jonothon, right? I'm Cam. I've seen you around, but you've seemed like a bit of a loner. I never see you with anyone."</strong> Subtlety was not a strength of hers at times.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>18-03-2017, 15:47:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Robert Coles<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>Jean was in her classroom organizing the room while waiting for Robert to join her. Professor Xavier had asked her to personally check up on the young man. Robert had a troubled past and several run-ins with the law. Jean hoped to offer some counseling and hope to get a feel for where his mind was at. Some students didn't have a choice but to either be here or in prison. Many would choose the school, but not all would embrace their goals. Some, unfortunately, had to eventually be turned in because they couldn't be reformed. Jean hoped that wouldn't be the case with Robert. He was still young and able to take a new direction in his life. <br><br>She felt his mind before he even opened the door. Jean turned and smiled just as he entered the room. <strong>"Good to see you, Robert. Please, take a seat."</strong> She said and moved over to sit at her desk. <strong>"We haven't had the time to be properly introduced. I'm Jean Grey. How are you finding the school?"</strong> she asked, looking to be welcoming to him. There were, of course, some reservations but she would not let that interfere with her duty. She knew how to be professional and would make up her own mind while getting to know someone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>19-03-2017, 18:41:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/Chamber2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>The notes died off while Jono's hand reached towards the CD player, before he became aware of a presence in the doorway. That hand started to head toward the black leather strips wrapping the lower part of his face as he whirled about. Fingers were readied to tug down and expose the fires within, just as Jonothon recognized the person in the doorway. She was that model that came, while Chamber might not hang out with people he could still hear the gossip. Not being able to speak had its advantages after all... It took a moment, but he went back to what he was doing before as Cam spoke to him.<br><br>While he really didn't ignore her it might have appeared that he was more interested in the stack of CD's. Jono's actions had a purpose in an attempt to keep people away... However a subtle shift in his eyes told him that Cam wouldn't take the bait as the blond haired woman moved to sit on a desk. It also showed how he had missed hearing her approach as Jono saw the socks she wore. Finally he leaned back and fixed his eyes upon her as he tried to start on her comments... It might have been easier just to play the mute, she would eventually figure it out and things could get even more awkward, "I have a lot of time to practice these days... If I knew then what I do now my mates and I might have actually found a label... Not really a singer for obvious reasons..."<br><br>As he spoke somethings might have stood out... The biggest being the fact that Jono's jaw never moved and neither did his chest. No Jono's voice was telepathic, the words delivered with his British accent. Though Jono continued to answer Cam's first question about wanting to watch, "As you like to say... It's a free country luv..."<br><br>His eyes went back to the CD's as she introduced herself... A simple nod verified that she had his name right, but a simple raised eyebrow came at the later words. It was true that Jono indeed was a loner, but for his own reasons. Jonothon flipped the CD around to look over the back, "Some call me Jono for short... As for me not being around anyone... Not everyone is happy being around a freak when you all can live a somewhat normal life... I remind people that not every mutation leaves one looking pretty..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>20-03-2017, 06:43:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/e3/19/d6e319cf0b62cbf2413c68fe2e853483.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Camelia "Cam" Tuft | Venom<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jono - CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> Being a talkative audience<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Same as photo<br><hr><br>As Cam sat near him, her pheromones, which were always exuding the scent of flowers from her pores, began to envelop the area around her. Typically, her pheromones caused others to feel pleasure and attraction towards her. Camelia tended to make a lot of friends this way, but it was not her first go-to with making friends. She liked being around people; She was a social butterfly. Sure, her pheromones did help her to make friends, but they only helped to attract friends. As far as keeping friends, that was all on her. If they weren't within the designated distance, would they still want to be friends with her? It was a thought she didn't like to think about.<br><br>Jono seemed to be more interested in his music than he was in talking to her. She could see the hesitation to respond, but she simply sat and waited for him to speak, not paying any mind to the leather over the lower part of his face. When he finally spoke though, she smiled. Oh, how she loved a man with an accent. It caused her to close her eyes just to listen before sighing softly with a slight smirk on her lips. It caused her to miss the fact that his jaw never moved as he spoke. <strong>"You should sing. You have a nice voice,"</strong> she replied as she leaned forward slightly, her hands on the edge of the desk, just outside her bare thighs. Her shirt was still covering enough that her panties couldn't be seen unless he really tried to get a peek.<br><br>Blue eyes watched his hands as he went about looking through his CDs, seeming to be looking for which song to play next. She took the opportunity to continue their conversation while he wasn't super focused on playing. <strong>"You shouldn't care what others think about how you look. My career was based on looks and I don't care. People can get over themselves,"</strong> she commented, swinging her legs back and forth as she watched him carefully looking through his CDs.<br><br><strong>"My mutation isn't a pretty one. I melted some guy's face. He tried to stick his tongue down my throat, but my saliva is super toxic, so he got what was coming to him."</strong> The way she spoke about it was so nonchalant. It was as if she had no remorse for the guy and the state she had put him in. She truly didn't care. If anything, she was angry with the guy for what he did. More-so for outing her than for trying to force himself on her. She had already let that anger go; He got enough punishment for that crude act, himself. Cam also seemed to be completely unaware of how he truly looked under the leather, and she truly had no care to ask. But, it probably would've been good to know so she didn't talk to him about how she melted some guy's face. It probably made her seem a little insensitive to how Jono may feel about his condition.<br><br><strong>"So, Jono, what are you doing up so late? Couldn't fall asleep either?"</strong> she asked, wanting to keep the conversation going for as long as she could before he found what he was looking for.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Totoro</strong> on <strong>20-03-2017, 12:57:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://cloudinary-a.akamaihd.net/holdmyticket/image/upload/w_700,h_700,c_fit,c_limit,q_68,dn_72,f_auto/v6/uploads/attractions/1e2453c1814520ce133a4af4f49304e4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Robby Coles<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>Bobby made his way through the corridors quietly and calmly. He wasn't particularly looking forward to this, but a part of him was hopeful and optimistic. Perhaps it'd go well. He'd seen a few psychologists in prison, they were almost the only human contact he had, but none of them had helped or understood. For now he just kept his head down and avoided eye contact with anyone he walked past. It wasn't long before he was outside Jean's classroom. He knocked lightly and then opened the door.<br><br>He smiled a little bit as she said it was good to see him. It was rarely true that people were happy to see him, but it was at least nice to hear it for once. And she did seem to be trustworthy and honest. He headed over to her desk and took the seat opposite, looking at her calmly as she introduced herself. <br><br><strong>"It's good to meet you, Mrs. Grey. The school is good. A lot of people hate me but I expect that, the fact a few give me a shot is all I can ask. Right now I'm trying to get used to dealing with people again. Three years on my own makes it really hard to adjust back."</strong><br><br>It was definitely true that he had trouble dealing with people. In general he tried to be polite and nice regardless of what they said or did. It seemed to help deal with people, and he'd not had any incidents too bad yet. Then again there was always time for something to go bad, and one bad day for him was the last day for people around him. Hopefully Jean, Mrs. Grey, could help him to stop that happening.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>25-03-2017, 21:17:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Robert Coles, CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>Jean nodded slowly as she listened to him. It was sad that he had experienced that kind of isolation because of his mutation. <strong>"I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you are not alone. Most of us here have felt that way in some way or another. You'll find many of us just want an opportunity to connect with others that have gone through the same things."</strong> She said with a kind smile. But she knew that it took time to build trust. Words were pretty but it was through action that things really changed. She wanted to be able to mentor this young man and hopefully save him in the process. <strong>“I’m glad that you are open to the experience.”</strong><br><br><strong>“If you don’t mind, tell me a little more about yourself.”</strong> Jean said, leaning forward a little, <strong>“I read your file, but I’d like to hear it from you. Where you come from and when your powers first manifested.”</strong> For every mutant the day their powers first appear is a very memorable--and sometimes traumatic-- experience. <strong>“You can tell me as much or as little as you feel comfortable. I know it can be hard to share the first time you meet someone, but I’m here for you.”</strong> She hoped that he would know the sincerity in her words. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Totoro</strong> on <strong>25-03-2017, 21:52:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://cloudinary-a.akamaihd.net/holdmyticket/image/upload/w_700,h_700,c_fit,c_limit,q_68,dn_72,f_auto/v6/uploads/attractions/1e2453c1814520ce133a4af4f49304e4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Robby Coles<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> Sad story includes mentions of abuse<br><hr><br>Bobby listened to Jean's words quietly. She seemed to genuinely care, and the rate he perceived the world usually let him know if someone flinched or looked away from him. Jean seemed to really care, and want to help. It was a little worrying when she started to ask about his past, but he saw no point in concealing the reality of what he'd done. He stayed quiet for a few moments. It took a little time to gather his thoughts before he could start speaking. <br><br><strong>"It was bad, when I grew up. Things. Life. Most everything, really. My dad was like the devil, beat me and my mom. Every day it got a bit worse. I've still got scars." <br></strong><br>He looked down as he spoke, feeling shame at the story but doing his best to admit the truth. He rolled up his sleeves a little to show her a few scar marks on his arms. They looked to have come from beatings with belts, and they'd now lasted over a decade. Bobby felt himself wobble a little, but pulled it together. <br><br><strong>"One day it went too far. He beat my mom half way to death. And she..." <br></strong><br>Bobby temporarily trailed off, before gulping in a big breath and shuddering. He'd never really told this bit, but for some reason he felt comfortable. <br><br><strong>"She shot him. Killed the devil right there. When I came down stairs everything was slow. Blood everywhere, her tears took minutes to drop. I was trapped, and scared. But it turned to anger. Despite all the abuse he was my dad. I felt something well up inside me. Like a heat. Before I knew what was happening everything around me was on fire. But I still couldn't make myself move. I had to watch as it..."</strong><br><br>He bit his lip, feeling the well of emotions getting the better of him. He stopped talking and temporarily something appeared to have changed in him. His eyes lost the vulnerability and emotion and to a telepath like Jean it was clear that he'd shut off his own feelings. Distanced himself from them. More concerning, though, was the pit of anger in his mind. It bubbled up, rushing over all of his thoughts and making him clench his fists tight. Bobby tried his best, starting to take steady deep breaths and attempt to clear his mind. Inside his head, he heard a voice. It growled and barked, each word with a grating roughness to it that somehow reminded him of a talking, sentient roaring inferno. <br><br><em>"Kill her. Burn her. Murder them all. Make the school like ashes. You know you want to Bobby. Snip, Snap..." </em><br><br>Bobby was terrified Jean would hear the voice. It was hard not to, for some reason its presence in his head tended to be very broadcast. That and the fact his powers were beginning to kick start. The heat in the room began to drain away, including from Jean's own skin. Only a few degrees but enough to feel a sudden chill. Although Bobby himself began to feel like something of a heat source. But, despite the intensity, he had dealt with this before. His steady breathing and managing to entirely ignore the voice in his head went a long way. Overall he was far from the brink, and could confidently return back to safety if he kept his cool. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>26-03-2017, 21:35:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/Chamber2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>He caught the sight of her as she leaned slightly forward and ended up with a mental sigh. If Jono remembered his lessons on body language it meant she was ready to listen or something... Or she was just ready to bolt when someone less monstrous could be found. Still if she was going to stay and listen perhaps he should find something that she could sing to or something like that. Cam had said that she could sing right?<br><br>Still it gave him a second to try and frame his next words, Jono caught the fact that she closed her eyes when he first spoke. It might mean that she didn't know that his voice was purely telepathic yet. He was kind of hesitant to let her in on that fact, because some people got kind of weird when they found out that your voice was in their head. Jono gave a small shake of his head as his brown hair bounced in front of his eyes, "Sorry, I still leave the singing to others... Not like I can get out of the place to go play in a club anyways. Don't think I really want to face down Salvation again either, a shotgun in my face once is enough."<br><br>Chamber was completely unaware of the pheromones coming from Cam as any scents didn't matter to one that couldn't breathe. His body was different since his powers manifested in that explosive way and he couldn't be sure that pheromones even worked on him anyways. His eyes glanced back to her as his CD search went off into a new direction and tried to find something she might sing to. The more he looked at her pose the more he felt like there was something that he missed. Of course as his mind was elsewhere Jono missed a CD as it slipped from the desk and flopped onto the floor. He started to go and pick it up when it dawned on him... With that shirt and those stockings, Cam might not have on any shorts underneath. Gayle used to do the same thing... It also gave him a reason to divert from her comments about caring about looks, but he had to make at least on small comment, "That's because you look normal... Something that I never can be..." Jono's eyes shift to the fallen CD, "Mind picking that up for me Cam?"<br><br>The way she talked about that guy... Cam really sounded like she didn't care about and Jono might have said something about it, but that would offer up what he did to Gayle. Then the added fact that Chamber had destroyed half a building when his powers manifested just added more guilt. Nobody had died, but Gayle would never walk again and the one that had loved her put her in that chair. Then Cam talked about how she melted a guys face... Chamber had to turn away to hide the emotions in his eyes, but still his hand came to the leather wrapped face to touch his own burn scars. <br><br>He was glad when the subject was changed though it required him to open up some about his own powers. Anything to take his mind from the past was a good thing at this point, "I don't sleep... Part of my curse... I'm up 24 hours a day 365 days a year. Usually watch the telly, but some others got to it first. So I figured it might just be fun to play for awhile..." <br><br>Unable to decide Jono laid out a line of CD's: Seether's Disclaimer which had a pair of acoustic songs one of which had Amy Lee, Shinedown's Sounds of Madness along with the bonus disc that included an acoustic version of a Second Chance, along with the version of Breaking Inside that had Lzzy Hale doing a guest role, Dorothy, The Pretty Reckless' Going to Hell and just for shits and giggles he laid down Warrent's Cherry Pie album as his telepathic voice sounds, "Shall we choose? I can keep with some of the acoustic or we can totally get into trouble and I'll break out my Cemetery Gates model Razorback electric...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>27-03-2017, 01:12:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/e3/19/d6e319cf0b62cbf2413c68fe2e853483.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Camelia "Cam" Tuft | Venom<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jono - CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> Being a talkative audience<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Same as photo<br><hr><br><strong>"Still,"</strong> she replied as he mentioned not singing.<strong> "You can record it or just sing for the sake of singing. I'm sure others around here would enjoy a show. I could be your back-up dancer," </strong>she teased with a smile, enjoying the thought of performing for people again, even if it wasn't her usual type of performance. She was used to people staring at her, watching her on a stage or a runway, but she didn't typically do much more than walk and pose. Dancing would be more than she was normally used to, but she did love to dance. And she definitely loved a good party, which concerts tended to turn into. The idea was a good one... Or at least it was a good plan in her mind. Whether he would want to perform in front of those who weren't his friends, that would be a different story.<br><br>After he dropped the CD and turned to look at her, she noticed that his jaw didn't move when he spoke; It was odd. How could he speak so clearly when he wasn't moving his mouth? Sure, people threw their voices for acts, but his voice was clear, even through the leather fabric that covered his face. Her thought immediately turned to wondering what he looked like under that mask. She began to concentrate on him, trying to figure it out and piece it all together, but he asked a simple request that knocked her thoughts off course.<br><br><strong>"I don't mind one bit,"</strong> she replied with a smile, happy to help. After uncrossing her legs, she hopped off the desk and walked over to where the CD had rolled. It wasn't far, but was out of Jono's immediate reach, so she thought nothing of it until she bent over to pick it up. Cool air brushed over her nearly bare ass as her lacy, black panties became exposed. She smirked and took her time picking up the CD, allowing him a chance to look at her round, shapely butt. She lifted the CD carefully, not wanting to scratch it, and arched her back as she slowly stood back up, causing the bottom of her shirt to rest just above her butt.<br><strong><br>"So,"</strong> she began as she looked at the CD to see what it was and give him more time to stare, if he chose to do so. <strong>"You just watch TV and play music all the time? No friends to spend time with?" </strong>she asked before looking over her shoulder, hoping to catch him staring at all before she turned around and walked over to him. She slipped the CD back into the stack, her fingers brushing against his for just a moment as he set out a few CDs to choose from.<br><br>Leaning against the desk, beside him, she looked over the CDs he laid out as she listened to his voice again. It gave her chills just hearing it. She slipped between him and the desk and sat back against the desk so she was slightly shorter than he was. Blue eyes looked up into his as she spoke.<strong> "Couldn't you just sing a little bit? For me?"</strong> she asked as her fingers lightly traced his chest. Her pheromones were beginning to surround him, but luckily for him, not breathing prevented him from falling to her will... so long as her beauty didn't get to him. Hopefully her having toxic saliva didn't turn him off from doing favors for her.<br><br><strong>"I don't mind getting into trouble with you,"</strong> she added with a smirk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>29-03-2017, 18:57:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2014/244/2/d/laura_pol_paint_by_patricia_crvl-d7xjoof.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Location:</strong> Art Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 11th, 11:45 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne<br><strong>Content:</strong> Making a new friend<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6a/f9/88/6af988d66f556e409cc8b9d3fe26a0f1.jpg)<br><hr><br>After her art class had ended, Hourglass packed up her things, which wasn't much. She had a pencil case filled to the brim with colored pens and a few pencils, one sketchpad, and one lined notebook for any notes she may have needed to take. It was an interesting class and she had learned quite a few things that she hadn't taught herself over the years, but they weren't really her style. Hourglass had an odd style that was all her own. She had an abstract look on everyday life that consisted of a basic design that was turned magical with all types of bright colors and strange angles. She had no desire to change her style, having worked years to perfect it until it was everything she loved.<br><br>Sunspot, her newest friend, had told her about Rahne and how they should meet. They shared similar interests, it seemed, as Rahne had also attended this art class. The seemingly shy girl was still packing up her things and seemed to be in no rush, considering everyone else in the class, including the teacher, had already left for lunch. Hourglass had sat a few seats behind the girl and they hadn't spoken at all during the class, but she decided to introduce herself. More friends was never a bad thing and she trusted Sunspot when he said they would probably get along well.<br><br>The petite young woman hugged her books to her chest and walked up to Rahne's desk before stopping, beside it. <strong>"Sunspot told me that I should maybe introduce myself to you,"</strong> she began, forgetting to even say hello first or offer her name. She was a bit nervous in introducing herself.<br><br><strong>"I, um... I don't have many friends yet and he thought that you and I might enjoy spending time together because we both like art and such. I'm sorry if this is awkward. I'm a little nervous,"</strong> she admitted, not sure what to say. Walking up to a stranger and introducing herself wasn't something she was at all used to doing. She just hoped she wasn't completely blowing it.<br><br><strong>"I'm Hourglass,"</strong> she finally revealed before holding out her hand for a handshake. The scars on her palm were hidden by the sleeves of her top. They had a thumb-hole that kept her from needing to wear gloves.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>29-03-2017, 23:34:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Robert Coles, CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br>For a few moments, Jean thought that Robert would shut down and not want to share anything at all. She still remembered how Wolverine got prickly any time someone asked about his past, but her concern was true. She wasn't looking to pry but to help get to know him. But she was patient and didn't try to force anything. It wouldn't help anyway. When he finally began to talk, Jean tried to remain objective even though she felt empathy for him. It was one of her traits to be able to put herself in another's shoes. So despite the fact that her upbringing could be described as privileged, she did not pity him but instead was glad that he was able to survive such an unfortunate upbringing. <br><br><strong>"Its ok, I'm listening."</strong> Jean said once he stumbled for words. The boy was quite emotional and it showed. Then suddenly he shut down and Jean could no longer feel his mind. Something was different. <strong>"Robert...What's wrong?"</strong> She asked, trying to reach him as she felt his anger rise. As she tried to open her mind to try and soothe that anger, she very clearly heard the voice in his head. She let out a yelp as the feedback hit her like a heatwave and she had to erect her own psionic barriers to stop the stinging in her head. <strong>"My god, Robert...Is that how you feel...when it takes over you?"</strong> She asked as she recovered. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Totoro</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 01:00:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://cloudinary-a.akamaihd.net/holdmyticket/image/upload/w_700,h_700,c_fit,c_limit,q_68,dn_72,f_auto/v6/uploads/attractions/1e2453c1814520ce133a4af4f49304e4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Robby Coles<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Content:</strong> Sad story includes mentions of abuse<br><hr><br>Bobby gripped the desk in front of him hard as he fought for control. He'd had a few moments like this in solitary. Sometimes the voices in his head were too much to drown out. Once he got on a dark path being so alone made it near impossible to distract himself. The past year his control had been impeccable but he wasn't used to nearly this much outside input. It was amazing to be free but he had constant reminders of who he'd been. Or, who he was. Depended who you asked really. As his mind raced his body shook a little. <br><br>Bobby looked nothing short of a horror movie, although thankfully not close to as unnatural as he could become. He shook a little and suddenly stiffened, his back becoming rigid and his head rolling up. The air temperature dropped in the room, and a faint burning smell seemed to roll in as the heat returned. Only this time it was from a single source, Bobby himself. Smoke emanated from his body as though there was a fire inside him, but there was no sign of the flames. <br><br>Bobby was almost entirely unaware of his actions, almost exclusively internally panicking. His mind wasn't particularly shut off from the telepath opposite him but instead he seemed to radiate anger. The personality he'd compressed his powers into was the house of almost all the hate and violence he could muster, and it had no concerns about growling threats to any who would look into his head. <br><br><em>"Bobby... Bobby. Bobby!"</em> It snarled the last time, vying for his attention. <br><br>But still he ignored it, breathing particularly steadily he took a heavy inhale and exhale and slowly opened his eyes. The smoke seemed to dissipate a little and the temperature evened back out. Bobby shook his head. That was altogether far, far too close. Jean seemed concerned for him but not hateful. The yelp was understandable and didn't upset him. As soon as he felt able to return to speaking he replied to her. His deep voice and strong west L.A accent came across easily. He felt a bit out of place among so many better spoken people. <br><br><strong>"It's not an it. It's me. No point faking that voice ain't in my head. It's like another personality. Something like that. I compart.. mentalised?" </strong><br><br>He trailed off as he turned the statement into a question, not sure if it was the right term. <br><br><strong>"Split up my thoughts when I lost... when I lost them back then. Couldn't deal with it so I put the anger and hate away. Now it's like that. But it always hits when my powers do. I need to separate the fire from the thoughts. Otherwise I can't ever use them again." </strong><br><br>He looked down a little, feeling ridiculous saying it. <br><br><strong>"But I talked to someone. She made me think maybe doing nothing isn't the best choice for me. Maybe I can try and do something worthwhile with them, atone for my sins."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 01:02:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Art Room<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 11th, 11:45 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Content:</strong> Making a new friend.<br><hr><br>Rahne had felt a little bit out of place all day. And "all day" meant the last two hours. She had drastically over thought her new tutoring assignment, and had dressed much too formally. Abigail Kreuger, the girl she had to tutor, hadn't been too impressed. Their first meeting hadn't gone too well. It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, though, either. In fact if she hadn't known better she would have thought that the blonde had been flirting with her. That made no sense, though. It just...No. She was getting ahead of herself there.<br><br>But she had left that session with Abigail feeling pretty, and that was a rare enough feeling for the redhead. So she had stayed in her dress to go to an art class. It was the first one she ever would have gone. Having taught herself how to sketch, she wasn't sure what a class could do for her. She wasn't trying to become a famous artist, or to make anything that might hang in a museum. She would never be that good, she was sure. But it was interesting nonetheless. She didn't speak, but she listened, and at the end of the class she was wondering if she would come back. It was definitely interesting, but, she wasn't much of a people person...<br><br>It was why she was dragging her feet in leaving. She had nowhere to be that day, and it helped her think, packing her things. That was when she heard someone walk up behind her, and looked up, she saw a pretty young woman that looked several kinds of nervous. Still, Rahne offered her a friendly smile as she stood--it was rude to stay sitting while the girl stood.<br><br>"Oh, Roberto?" she asked, blinking as her old friend was brought up, "Well, anyone Roberto is a friend of is a friend o' mine..." Taking the offered hand to shake, her Scottish accent rolled over her words as she cast a friendly smile at a new friend, "Ah'm Rahne. Rahne Sinclair. Ah, uh...Ah don't have a codename like most here. Ah don't...do the...powers thing." Shrugging, she started to gather her things. "Are you new here, then? Ah've only been here a year, m'self..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 02:46:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2014/244/2/d/laura_pol_paint_by_patricia_crvl-d7xjoof.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Location:</strong> Art Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 11th, 11:45 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne<br><strong>Content:</strong> Making a new friend<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6a/f9/88/6af988d66f556e409cc8b9d3fe26a0f1.jpg)<br><hr><br>Tess was relieved to have gotten past her introduction without Rahne just pushing past her and running for her life. It was dramatic of a thought, yes, but she did have strange worries from time to time. <strong>"I try not to do my power thing that much, either. My real name is Tessa; I used to go by Tess, but I think I just need to do the codename thing. Tess was the old me that didn't talk to anyone or have any friends, so I'm trying out the new name. If you don't like it, I'll still answer to Tess. Or Tessa. Whatever you want to call me,"</strong> she replied before rubbing the back of her head, nervously. She was talking too much. Or maybe just too much about the same one topic.<br><br><strong>"I'm pretty new. Been here about two weeks now,"</strong> she replied before taking a step back, giving Rahne a bit of space.<br><br><strong>"I, uh... I can control time. Well, somewhat control time. A lot of times it just controls me,"</strong> she began before stopping herself and apologizing. <strong>"I'm sorry if I'm talking too much or if I'm weird. I just... I'm still getting used to the whole interacting with people thing. I, um... I didn't get out much before coming here. And I avoided making friends because I was worried that they would see who I really was, y'know?"</strong><br><br>She began to feel like she was sharing too much and thought of just rewinding and just walking out of the room without a word, but she decided against it. After all, Sunspot seemed to be fine with her the way she was, so she hoped that his friend Rahne would be the same.<br><br><strong>"So, you draw?"</strong> she asked before pulling out her own sketchpad. <strong>"Would you like to compare? I have a very weird style,"</strong> she mentioned before immediately adding <strong>"You don't have to show me yours if you don't like people seeing it. I know how that can be. But, I still wouldn't mind you looking at mine, if you want. I could always use some feedback from a fellow artist."</strong><br><br>Tess hoped she wasn't being too forward or acting too weird. She really wanted to make another friend and from what Sunspot told her about Rahne, they seemed to have similar personalities.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 16:22:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/JhIggyw.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Bridgette Desjardins <br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Tessa Cantrell, Neena Thurman<br><strong>Content:</strong> Bridgette has just finished role call, and she carefully starts the class, aware that this class at the start of the day is not ideal.<br><hr><br>Bridgette preferred the students to use one of two names, ‘Ms. D’, or if they were capable of saying it, ‘Ms. Desjardins’. She responded to almost anything, and it was never difficult for her to tell when one of her students needed her attention. So, ‘Bridges’, ‘Dessy’, ‘Hey teach,’ and a number of other names were used on a daily basis. But it was a small joke between her and almost every student, they all knew that she most preferred her full last name, and students mispronounced it on purpose to tease her.<br><br><strong>“And Barry?” </strong>York, Barry was always the last name on the role call for this class. A yawning ‘here.’ lifted from the quiet air of the students in her class, and she marked the appropriate box by his name. There was one student missing, one Chris Claire, he was often absent due to his unpredictable mutation. So, she continued on without inquiry.<br><br>Ms. Desjardins didn’t seat her students in rows and columns. She didn’t like the systematic approach that most teachers used. Instead, she had two large circular tables with five students sitting at each one. She made an attempt to balance out gender at each table, considering it important that men and women interact with each other freely. <br><br>Table one had Michael, Sarah, Tess, Gabriel and Neena<br><br>Table two had Shane, Leslie, Josh, Haily, and Chris. But Chris was absent.<br><strong><br>“Alright everyone! Good morning.”</strong> Her accent was as slurred and as sharp as ever. It had taken some time for her to be intelligible, but she had figured it out when she was about twenty five. <strong>“I hope we’ve all had our coffee,” </strong>She could tell that over half of the class was tired. Three of the students had taken Coping Skills last spring, and they had benefited so much from the class that they came back to assist other students who’d never taken it before. This collection of kids hadn’t been exposed to the real course yet, and it wasn’t exactly an easy class. It was closer to group therapy than it was to a class. Students did study psychology, but everything was focused toward emotional development and forging a path into a healthy adulthood.<br><br>Bridgette brought the roll call sheet to her desk and leaned against the it to speak to her class. She had a signature coffee mug that she was almost always holding in her left hand, especially during this class, the first of the day for her and most of the students. <strong>“Alright. How are we?”</strong> It was an important question, and unlike most other courses, the students feelings were part of the syllabus.<strong> “I know zat zis class should probably be later in zah day, but, alas, it is not.”</strong><br><br>This was the first day that people were going to share. More than a fifth of the students dropped Coping Skills after this day in the course. It was not a class for everyone, and not everyone knew that they signed up for something similar to group therapy. But for the students who stuck around, bonding was a natural consequence to sharing each other’s lives. Learning how to deal with real pain and real loss, real objectification, and real oppression; that all took exercise, and the students were expected to be confidential about what they heard in the class from other students. <br><strong><br>“If you check zah syllabus, today will be zah first day zat we are sharing with each uzah.” </strong>Her tall frame lifted away from the desk, standing she made her way to the chalkboard at the front of the class. Other teacher’s preferred the white board, but Bridgette absolutely hated the smell of dry erase pens, and she would not have it. White chalk and blackboards were the only way, and it was easier on the student’s eyes.<br><br>She started scratching onto the board in her relatively sloppy handwriting. “Fear, shame, humiliation, pride, confusion, grief, depression, anger, anxiety” Each word was in all capital letters, underlined, and each word appeared to be a title for lists that they were going to form. As she wrote them down, she talked about why she was doing so, <strong>“I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Zis is difficult, to meet one anozah, and to talk openly about our lives at zee same time. It is not fun. And it will usually evoke zeese feelings from zee speaker as well as zee rest of zee class.”</strong><br><br>She turned now, still explaining, <strong>“We are humans, and humans are empathetic creatures.” </strong>She was careful not to let her accent dominate that sentence.<strong> “It is natural. Zeese feelings are natural. It is important to learn about zeese feelings. We cannot let zhem control us.”</strong><br><br><strong>“So. we will be telling short stories to each ozah about our lives. Specifically, about somezing zat makes us feel one of zee emotions on zee board. …”</strong> She let that sink in, it was not a traditional teaching method at all.<strong> “I will start…” </strong>She paused and made a small adjustment to her broadcasting emotion. She tried to even out, to limit the station to static, so to speak. She didn’t want to confuse anyone by allowing her own feelings to impact them. <strong>“Zhat is… unless we have some one brave in zee class today. Anyone?”</strong><br><br>The three students that had taken this class before looked on with adoration. They remembered this day in their last time through the course. And, each of them knew that it was an important day for anyone who hadn’t taken the class. Like Ms. Desjardins, they sat back and waited for other kids to speak up. Even if no one wanted to, they would only share if their teacher called on them directly, They were Sarah, Josh, and Shane, all nineteen, and happy to help anyone else in the class. This course had changed each of their lives, and they were unofficial T.A.’s on days like this. Bridgette had mentioned it to the class last week, that they’d been down this road before.<br><br>Most of the class was still, they looked around at each other. Bridgette could hear a cacophony of confusion. She was an empath, and everyone’s emotions were stirring around, some of the kids were scared, others were nervous, and a few looked like they were already close to tears by the mere prospect of sharing their lives like that in front of their peers. Bridgette waited, she could tell that a few kids were close to raising their hands.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 18:31:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/KB91EMd.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Bridgette Desjardins <br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ Psychology Classroom - <strong>COMPARATIVE RELIGIONS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Wednesday September 10th - 1:30 PM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Danika Kincaid, Wakana Hana, Kitty Pryde<br><strong>Content:</strong> Bridgette has given everyone a chance to discuss the similarities and comparisons between Buddhism and Christianity. There is a small diagram on the board to help both players and characters. She watches from her desk, keeping an eye on people's tempers. Once the talking amongst each other is over, she plans to lead a discussion. <br><hr><br>Bridgette’s schedule in this class was lax. Students seemed to dictate the material more than most other courses she taught. It was a fun class to teach, and she’d enjoyed it more than most of her other classes in previous quarters. It was only the second week, and they were still at the beginning of the syllabus. The first step to understanding the difference between religions was to separate the classic western ideologies like Islam, Catholicism, Judaism, and Christianity from the less secular Eastern philosophies like Taoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism.<br><br>Ms. Desjardins preferred to stick to these religions, and tended to avoid obscure religions that were for more advanced study. These included Zoroastrianism, Asatru, Mazdakism, and Jainism among many others. She also avoided recent religions like Mormonism and Falun gong.<br><br>Once the students started to move past the differences of the religions and started to understand that there were similar themes being gestured, the real lessons could begin. The class appeared to be agnostic at best from the surface level. The name itself suggested that the religions were something to be studied, which was a blasphemous approach to anything they were talking about, as most modern religions tended to deny the possibilities of the others. But Bridges liked the comparison of Christianity and Buddhism quite a lot.<br><br>The chalkboard that she used for her class had a display to help lead the students. She’d put it together as soon as she opened conversation. It had taken her about four or five minutes to chalk the words on to the board in her scratchy handwriting. <br><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Chalkboard</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/ZDwqDaZ.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/gYsyG6m.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u">Buddhism vs. Christianity</span></span></div>Both founded by great spiritual leaders<br>Both offer a path to salvation<br>Neither Buddha or Jesus wrote down their own teachings<br>Both Egalitarian beliefs (all are allowed to engage)<br>Shared values, no killing, no lying, no stealing<br>Buddhism's 'infinite light' 'Nirvana'&nbsp; &nbsp;-&nbsp; &nbsp;Christianity's idea of God <br>Buddhism lacks 'divine justice'&nbsp; &nbsp; -&nbsp; &nbsp; Christianity lacks reincarnation<br>Meditation and Prayer - similar? different?<br>Which is better? damnation to hell? or the fact that life is Hell?<br></div></div></div>That’s how this class had worked so far, and it felt less like school, and more like a jurors discussion room. Ms. Desjardins would take roll, she would give the students something to discuss as a class, and then she would give them some guidance silently with the chalk as they worked among eachother. She was sitting at her desk now, leaning back, drinking coffee and listening to the students mingle openly. <br><br>Like all of her classes, she did not use rows and columns for seating. Instead, there were two circular tables, each table had a group of five. That was something Bridgette very much appreciated about Xavier’s school, the class sizes were small. The most she’d ever had was twenty-one in an introductory French class last year. And it had been astoundingly more difficult than the 8-15 student size she’d gotten used to. <br><br>Table one was seating Fiona, Marcus, Danika, Hana, and Jason.<br><br>Table two was seating Victoria, Kitty, Parker, Scott, and Owen.<br><br>"I don't understand what you're getting at Scott?" Owen was feeling heated. He'd been raised christian and this topic was something he didn't like going into. Scott was being pushy, an atheist and proud, he liked Goading the christian kids around the school into existential crisis'. It was fun for him. Owen's anger was starting to surface, Bridgett could hear his choppy expressions as he was having them. His face was twitching, and his jaw was far too tight. Bridgette focused and leaned forward. <br><br>Scott was laughing, his music was sinister, she did not like it. He was trying to say that there was no God and that Buddhism was probably the better belief structure with that in mind. 'Divine Justice' didn't exist to him, and neither did the karmaic reality that buddhism favored for it's justice system. "I'm just saying that-"<br><br><strong>"No."</strong> Ms. Desjardins was loud, both in volume and in broadcast. She wasn't upset, but her stern decision to stop scott was unquestionable. <strong>"We're not going to go there Scott. This isn't a fight, and you're making it personal."</strong> She put a finger up to address the whole class. It was the first time this group had gotten hostile with each other. <strong>"We have to remember zat people's beliefs vary. Zat's what Zis class is about. We are not interested in proving anybody wrong, or anybody right." </strong>The class murmered a bit. Owen was still fuming, Bridgette could hear it, Scott was acting like a spoiled child. she looked at the aethiest boy with an insisting expression, eyes wide, brows up, head tilted. <strong>"Apologize. You were being rude to Owen."</strong><br><br>Scott looked over to his peer and then to the ground. He brought his gaze back up and offered a sincere apology with a gesture of his left hand, "I'm sorry, man. Teacher's right. I was out of line." It didn't fix everything but Owen was nodding. Bridgette felt things steady out again.<br><br><strong>"Continue, and be respectful of each ozah as well as zee subject matter. It is older zahn us all."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>WhatLiesAbove</strong> on <strong>31-03-2017, 04:05:56</strong>
			</dt>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/786635/alexandra-daddario-and-bebe-full-sequin-jacket-by-tara-subkoff-gallery.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Neena Thurman | Domino<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Tessa Cantrell, Bridgette Dejardins<br><strong>Content:</strong> Annoyed at having to be here, dressed like this (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/73/eb/28/73eb28461506a8b08c214b3051daa835.jpg)<br><hr><br>Neena was not a happy camper. She had been told that the coping skills class was something she was going to have to take. Academically, she was well ahead of the curve. But still. There were classes she needed to take, and this was at the top of the list. Apparently the staff had read her file, and knew quite a bit about her.<br><br>And so she was here. Dressed down, she had gone to the table she was assigned too, and dropped down into a chair, already looking annoyed. Her hand lifted as her name was called. A good thing about being named 'Thurman' was that she could get away with hearing everyone else's names first. Still, she decided to pull out a pad of paper, and begin doodling. <br><br>Just because she had to be in the class didn't mean she had to enjoy it. Even still, her hard wired training would have her listening, even as she tried to tune out. The thought of sharing her life's story wseemed th strangers was a very real fear for her...a fear wrapped up in indifference and anger. Finally, when Ms. Dejardins asked who would like to share, Neena raised her hand. <strong>"I actually have a question. You said that we are all human, and humans are empathic. But....we aren't human. We are mutants. And the stories some of us would share would likely make the others in this class pee themselves..."</strong><br><br>It wasn't exactly obvious that Neena was talking about herself. Still, she had put a part of herself out there. And she knew that no one mutant in the school had had it easy. She also knew beyond a certainty that no mutant in this class had been through what she had. Memories of her last nightmare flashed in her minds eye, and she shivered just barely. No...for Neena, those memories were best kept to herself, and buried deep down. Not shared in front of a class.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>yuki92</strong> on <strong>31-03-2017, 05:20:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/1QICteq.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Wakana Hana<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ Psychology Classroom -<strong> COMPARATIVE RELIGIONS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Wednesday September 10th - 1:30 PM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Everyone in comparative religion class<br><strong>Content:</strong> Hana is attending Comparative Religions, and talks inside her mind.<br><hr><br>It was Hana’s first class here, and it had been some time since she’d studied at all in a classroom. It felt like a whole new experience. Furthermore, this class was about religion, and it focused on comparing religions with other religions. Immediately, Hana found it to be an incredibly interesting thing to do. She had always been interested in religion, because it was an unknown force that could make someone do anything, and it could bring about any number of phenomenon: peace, calmness, war and rage. Belief was a double edged sword, and she wanted to learn more about it, to use it to reach a state of peace. Hana wanted to spread the feeling of calmness and anti-violence that she herself had embraced.<br><br>She wasn’t a devout girl, she didn’t see religion as a ritual, it was a way of life, her family, like most of Japanese, were believers in&nbsp; Shinto, and they had embraced it as a way of life, she had lived around other religions. The individuals that belonged to the different congregations were, in large part, all nice people. It seemed to be beneficial when folks made their religion a way of life instead of something to do.<br><br>Hana was sat down like an honor student, looking at the teacher’s explanation and the handwriting on the board, the day’s topic was about Buddhism and Christianity. The first thing that came to her mind were their similarities. The two belief structures were almost the same. She was also pondering the fact that Buddhism was more way of life than a religion.<br><br>Hana was looking around her, waiting for anyone to speak out on her idea first, she didn’t want to be the one to start the discussion, even though her mind was filled with topics, ideas, and questions. But, still she didn’t want to get it out first. Some of them already made a fuss, but that one didn’t count as discussion, so she would wait a little longer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>01-04-2017, 15:57:39</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://img11.deviantart.net/ac83/i/2014/244/2/d/laura_pol_paint_by_patricia_crvl-d7xjoof.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Bridgette Desjardins, Neena Thurman<br><strong>Content:</strong> Having anxiety about sharing.<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/1hkyg9-l-610x610-sweater-girl-jeans-blue+jeans-white+sweater-necklace-gold+necklace-cardigan-coat-shoes-cute-cute+outfits-cute+outfit-nice-nice+outfit-girly+outfits+tumblr-girly-girly+outfits-girly.jpg)<br><hr>It was so early in the morning, but Tess wasn't tired. She had woken up sometime around 5am and had been trying to get herself mentally ready for this class since she couldn't sleep. She was far too worried about how the class would go. Would she have to tell her life story or would they just move on to coping with her past, but not asking any questions about it? She hoped it was the latter, but she had no clue what was in store for her. She had never been to therapy or group therapy or anything like that, so this, though definitely needed, was a scary thing.<br><br>In the classroom, she sat quietly, her leg bouncing beneath the table and her fingers gripping the ends of her sleeves, using them to hide her scars. She was trying to dress differently and had decided to try not wearing gloves today. It may have been too much of a step, considering that taking this class was a big step in itself. Her sweater was bright white, far from the usual dark colors she was used to wearing. The fabric hung down one freckled shoulder, which got pulled down further as she had pulled the sleeves down. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared down at the table, not looking up at anyone. Her blue-gray eyes focused on one spot, unblinking for the majority of the time until Ms. Desjardins spoke.<br><br>Her eyes remained lowered to the table, but not as focused as she listened to the role call, simply raising her hand when her name was spoken. She didn't speak.<br><br>Class began and Ms. Desjardins asked the class a question, but she still said nothing.<br><br>She looked over the syllabus as it was mentioned and froze as it was mentioned that they would be sharing. She gripped her sleeves tightly and forced herself to stay sitting, having been tempted to get up without a word and leave the class; She knew that she needed this. After calming herself enough to release the fabric of her sweater, she looked up to the chalkboard to read the words written on it. Her right hand lifted and touched her bangs, pressing them to her cheek and making sure her scar was hidden. Those words on the board immediately made her think of it. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hide it forever. Of all her scars, it was the one scar that she worried about others seeing more than anything. It made her feel ugly. It made her worry about people staring. The pain was still there - not physically, but mentally. She still had moments when she remembered the day it happened. She still remembered the feeling of the hot knife carving into her face, the scent of burning flesh, the screams from her mother as she begged him to stop doing this.<br><br>She closed her eyes and lowered her head again as tears fell onto the paper in front of her. This class was going to be painful.<br><br>A girl at her table spoke up, giving Tess the opportunity to wipe her eyes as everyone focused on her. She made sure her bangs were still in place before using the fabric of her sweater to pat dry the wet spots on her syllabus. She didn't want anyone to notice that she had been crying in class. Especially considering no one had even shared a story yet.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>02-04-2017, 16:47:32</strong>
			</dt>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/85/e9/b1/85e9b1ed6621e1895679e71ed3c61a00.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Gabriel Alexander Summers | Vulcan<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Tessa Cantrell, Bridgette Desjardins, Neena Thurman<br><strong>Content:</strong> Fascinated about the class<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (http://lj.mf-image.ru/d/eyJ0IjoiMjAxNy0wNC0wMlQwNTo1MDowMS4zNjcyMTQyWiIsInRtIjoxNSwiYmQiOjEsImZkIjo1NTcyNTMsInJmIjpudWxsLCJzbCI6MCwiZm4iOm51bGwsInIiOiJodHRwOi8vbXktZmlsZXMucnUvaXFtcGk2IiwibCI6bnVsbH0,.67362FF2B67BEC05F5ED04A20EFAF3E7./qw32NqT9yTs.jpg)<br><hr><br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"> 7:35am was the earliest time some people thought existed; he could see it on the faces of some of the students here in class with him. Ms. Desjardins though looked as perky and chipper as he did. He was usually up no later than 5am(if he was lazy), so this was nothing to him. He was simply excited about the experience like he was about most things since coming back to Earth. He said hello in response to their teacher, easily understanding her accent after a lifetime of hearing far more harsh and exotic ones.<br><br>&nbsp;Attendance for this class had taken a deep nosedive, but a few dedicated students were still here to learn, him included. He was actually excited to share experiences and memories. Many of his were awful, horrible things to relive. But burying them wouldn't help him get better. Getting it out would. Not only had he been told that by professionals, but he felt it as well. Deep in his gut he knew telling people about his life would help him truly come to terms with what he was, what he'd lived through. <br><br>He looked at Neena when Ms. Desjardins was done talking, and cleared his throat. "Well, actually mutants <em>are</em> human, despite what the racists say. We're separated from "baseline" humanity by basically the same genome percentile difference that makes someone black or white, or have blue eyes. One extra genome for us though and we get unbelievable super powers. We're still human...it's just that from the studies I've read of this world. And even back on Chandrilar...if someone is equal to you, but different. <br><br>That difference can and usually is used as an excuse for violence. And that difference turns to fear, anger, resentment, for whatever reason. And it becomes a divide. Whites did it to blacks and other races. Rich did it to the poor. Japanese did it to Chinese. It's just a cycle of difference breeds hate, and...sorry," he stopped as he realized he'd gotten way off track. "That's politics and ethics. Uh, since my foot's already in my mouth, I can go first?" He cleared he throat before standing up. <br><br>"For everyone who doesn't know me personally, I'm Gabriel Summers. Salem is my big sister. And yes, the stories and rumors are true. I was abducted along with our parents when I was still in the womb. We were taken to an alien planet. And I was...well I was a slave for the Emperor up until a few months ago. His personal slave. Bodyguard. Poison tester. Anything awful, demeaning and sadistic you can think of. That was my life." They were free to check with Xavier, or any of the other staff who had run the tests and confirmed he was telling the truth. What reason did he have to lie? <br><br>"I remember once. D'Ken was visitng the slums, just to help his popularity among the poor. He felt I was the only protection he needed, so the rest of the Imperial Guard stayed behind. We'd been sightseeing for about an hour. That's when a man and woman jumped out of the crowd. They were screaming about vengeance for their son who'd been killed in the pits. They had knives; they were going to kill him. They were going to kill our Emperor. I didn't even think. I just reacted, like they trained me. I hurt them both, but I didn't want to kill them. D'Ken didn't give me that choice, though. He...he killed them himself to prove a point. It was agonizing how he did it. Slow. He wouldn't even let me look away while they...while they screamed and begged anyone passing by for help, for justice." <br><br>Finally his voice trembled and it was clear that as calm as he'd been, these still held sway over young Vulcan. "After he brutalized them, he commanded their bodies be left in the streets as a warning. They rotted there for <em>weeks</em> until it finally became a health hazard. And that...that was an average day for me. I've got, I've got stories for days. But almost all of them are just like this. Is that okay? To keep telling them?"<br><br></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>02-04-2017, 20:11:21</strong>
			</dt>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/08/Chamber_unbound.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>His head shifted just enough to where long brown bangs fell across his eyes momentarily. Recording? Really? Jono was going to have to open up about his powers at some point with the way she was pushing about him singing. This was probably the longest he had talked to anyone else since his powers activated... Well fellow student really, as to him teachers and Xavier really didn't count. Jonothon had to speak with the instructors, but others he usually avoided. He still couldn't be sure that Cam wasn't messing with him, but he was actually starting to relax and admit that this moment was kinda nice. She even mentioned being a backup dancer which gave him some idea's mainly centered around My Darkest Days song Pornstar Dancing. A show for people however? He wasn't sure about that just yet, "I don't know luv... Might be kinda hard for a device to pick up my voice... A performance might be interesting, but perhaps it should coincide with something. Perhaps a school dance? Then you can show off your dancing and we can get into trouble with some Pornstar Dancing or something..."<br><br>When Jono asked her if she would pick up the CD he had dropped, he had intended not to do it himself so he wouldn't peek and see if she was wearing shorts or panties. His eyes widened as he caught full view of black laced sexy Cam butt. Her actions afterwards insured that he wasn't going to look away even if he wanted to smack his head into a wall. The British born mutant bitched at himself, <em>real smooth Jono... Now she probably thinks that you're a total perv or another Master Roshi.</em> Well ok probably not Roshi, but something anyways. Jono could see her study the disc and he glanced to see what had fallen himself... Oh, it was his copy of The Struts "Everybody Wants" album... <br><br>Cam didn't turn around that Jono could see yet, just stood there with her panties in full view while she looked at the CD. However the time finally did come when she looked back over her shoulder at him with a pair of questions. Jono tore his eyes away from that beautiful butt as he looked away much too slow. While Jono might be different now, he still had those same urges of any other male, and to quote Billy Gunn's old wrestling theme music... Jono was definitely an ass man... However he wasn't embarrassed about looking either and no stutter came with his words. Jono wasn't sure a telepath could stutter anyways, "Well, I do my homework as well... Eventually... No friends, I'm not the most sociable of people. Plus it's safer for everyone if I'm alone."<br><br>Jono froze as her fingers brushed his unsure of what to do... She had to be messing with him or truly didn't know about him as Jono was positive that no one would willingly touch him. Before he started to move again she slid between the desk and him. Jono again didn't know what to do... His brown eyes looked into hers as she asked him to sing for her. That didn't cause a reaction from him just yet, but what did get a reaction was the finger tracing along his chest. <br><br>It couldn't have been hard as it didn't even dent the shirt or the bandages underneath. However not even his clothing could hide that he was hotter to the touch then any normal person. They wouldn't burn themselves unless they plunged a hand into the flames encased in his chest, but Jono was warm enough to where people could think that he was running a constant fever. While it should have bothered him, Jono suddenly started moving backwards away from Cam... Her last words missed as he rushed to put space in between them. <br><br>In that haste his foot caught a desk sending him stumbling backwards even faster, until he struck the wall and to light switch plunging the room into darkness. Jono had his eyes closed for a moment as he came to a decision. He had to tell her... Jono's eyes opened back up, the dancing flames inside his body caused them to glow in the darkness. His hand moved over to hit the light switch again and bring the lights back on. Somewhat composed he looked back at Cam as his voice came at a whisper in her mind, "You wanna know why I can't sing for you or why I choose not to have friends?"<br><br>There was no deep breath or anything as Jono's hands moved to his shirt... It was one fluid motion as he pulled it up and off his upper body before he left it to flutter to the floor. His upper body that could be seen was lean and white from the lack of sun. A light trail of hair trailed down his navel to disappear behind the belt he wore, but the most notable thing was the leather wraps he wore as bandages. They were tightly wrapped about his face sure, but what most didn't know was how far they went. The black leather wrapped about his throat continuing down around his chest to finally stop short of his six pack abs. However the bandages weren't enough to completely cover the burn scars showing from underneath them, "The reason I can't sing for you is because I'm completely mute... I've been speaking with you with my telepathy. It's the only way I can communicate now... If I went into a town I have to play the mute burn victim card... Now the reason I don't keep friends..."<br><br>His left hand moved up to grab and loosen the wraps around his face before Jono pulled them down. The ruins of what once had been his lower face were revealed, his lower jaw completely gone along with what could be seen of the front of his throat. It was only visible for a moment before the flames enclosed in his body leaped out to curl around his head. The updraft lifting his hair into the air... His right hand opened the bandages just enough for more flames to be seen, "My powers have left me little more then a monster..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>02-04-2017, 22:30:44</strong>
			</dt>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/e3/19/d6e319cf0b62cbf2413c68fe2e853483.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Camelia "Cam" Tuft | Venom<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jono - CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> Being a talkative audience<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Same as photo<br><hr><br><strong>"A school dance, huh? Would you dance with me?"</strong> she asked with a smirk, enjoying the thought of the attention he might give her and being surrounded by people. She hadn't been to a good party in a long while. It was about time to get out and have a good time. This school had a lot of students dying to get out and have a good time after being kept captive here, so it was a wonder how there were rarely ever parties. The students in this place had a right to have some fun from time to time after all the things they put up with outside of this place.<br><br>When she noticed he was, in fact, staring at her butt, she couldn't help but bite her lower lip. She loved attention and her body only helped her get the attention she so desired. It was unfortunate that she couldn't ever make out with anyone. Her body only got her so far and most guys tended to think of her as a prude - or at least they did before finding out that she would've disfigured them. In this school, all she had was her body and her pheromones to keep guys interested in her. The fact that she didn't put out was a huge disadvantage; It definitely didn't help her popularity to get guys all riled up just to give them blue balls, but she couldn't help herself. She loved the feeling of being wanted so badly. She loved the look in their eyes as they burned with desire. She craved it.<br><br><strong>"Safer? I don't care about safe. I'll be your friend. And I won't take no for an answer,"</strong> she replied as she got close to him. She couldn't help but notice that while other guys would've inhaled suddenly at her touch, he did not. It was strange and got her thoughts back to what was going on with him. Did he not like her or was it something else? You could never tell when it came to this school sometimes. Everyone was a mutant and mutants came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and have a wide range of abilities. Did he not breathe at all? Maybe her pheromones weren't working on him because of it? She moved her fingers along his chest, hoping to even feel a heartbeat or something, but all she felt was heat before he stumbled back and knocked the light out.<br><br>She stayed sitting back against the desk in the dark, looking in the direction he had stumbled before his eyes opened and caught her own. Fire. He was burning inside for her - or at least that's where her mind went. He removed his shirt, revealing his body to her and she couldn't help but stare at the show he was putting on for her. Despite his scars and the pale skin, he had a very nice body, in her mind. She didn't care about the scars. All she saw was his abs until he spoke in her mind. She looked up to his eyes and listened to him as he exposed his scars to her.<br><br>With wide eyes, she watched as he unraveled the bandages from around his face. Here it comes - the big reveal. This was what she was waiting for. And when he finally finished unwrapping the bandages, her eyebrows lowered and furrowed together in concern. She wasn't disgusted by it or shocked from the sight. It was, after all, something she had seen before. But this was different. When she had melted that guy's face, she had no remorse for him. He had deserved what he had gotten. But Jono's face... Her reaction was very different. She just wanted to walk up and hug him, but she couldn't. The flames that released from where his mouth would normally be... It would greatly harm her.<br><br>Cam's genetic make-up was unfortunate in this case. He had a fire that burned inside of him but it meant that unless he was wrapped up, she couldn't get very close to him at all without beginning to feel the effects of a heat stroke. So, she stayed where she was, not daring to step any closer.<br><br><strong>"You're not a monster. I'm not afraid of you. I'm not repulsed by you. You're just Jono. I don't care what you look like,"</strong> she replied as her eyes studied his body from his head to his waist. She didn't look away in disgust or run. She had no issue looking upon him in the state he was in.<br><br><strong>"I'll prove it to you."</strong><br><br>Despite her better judgement, she slipped off the desk and lowered herself to the floor on her hands and knees. The further below his burning fire, the better of a chance she had to make it the whole way. If anything, she could find her way outside and heal herself in the grass. Carefully and slowly she inched closer to him, hoping to prove to him that he wasn't a monster and didn't have to think of himself as such. If a pretty girl wasn't afraid to get close to him, maybe he'd finally decide to have a friend in this place.<br><br><strong>"If I faint, it's not your fault,"</strong> she warned, not wanting him to think it was because she was afraid of him. <strong>"My body can't handle too much heat, or too much cold,"</strong> she explained, hoping if she kept talking, he wouldn't have the thought to run from her. <strong>"My genetic mutation is plant-based, as far as I can tell. I can't handle extreme temperatures, but I can heal myself with plants. And the toxin in my mouth... When I was arrested for hurting that guy, the government tested my saliva to find out what it was and it's something called sanguinarine. It kills animal cells."</strong><br><br>She crawled closer and closer, so long as he let her. And if he let her get close enough, she would crawl right up to him and lower herself down to lay on one of his feet so she wasn't too close to the fire that came from him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>03-04-2017, 05:54:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/JhIggyw.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Bridgette Desjardins <br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Tessa Cantrell, Neena Thurman<br><strong>Content:</strong> Bridgette starts to do the hard work of categorizing the emotions in Gabriel's story. She also fits a few lessons in before this starts, and tries to give Neena a response from her own mouth. See chalkboard spoiler at the end of the post for obvious reasons. It's crappy, I made it in paint, but it functions.<br><hr>Bridgette always looked forward to the challenge of this class. She’d held it three times previous to this one, and she was glad for it every time. However, the first few weeks were always the hardest. In order to hold a class about complex and difficult emotions, everyone had to be on the same playing field. People had to know who they were talking to, what they were talking about. There was perhaps nothing more difficult, and nothing more important. She could already sense quite a bit of apprehension in the room, and as she listened to the timbre of the pupils before her, her brows started to crease. There was a lot of pain in the room, and as the incoming conversation drew closer, she could sense a lot of the trauma in her students.<br><br>When Neena spoke up, Bridgette nodded. This particular young woman was one of the more disturbed songs in the room. Bridgette had noticed her doodling, and she was all but encouraging the behavior. Ms. Desjardins was different than most teachers. She didn’t want to force anything out of students. What they did with their time was their business, and if it wasn’t relevant to the class or the conversation, she wasn’t about to force anything. In addition, she made an observation, when Neena was doodling, she was calmer, less concerned, it was a therapy for her. As Bridgette listened to the annoyed young woman talk, she thought about that form of therapy. Bridgette was happy that Neena had found something to keep her calm.<br><br>Girls like Tessa only had one option, to hide from the past constantly. It was no competition, being with these wonderful young people, helping them through their traumatic pasts, being available to them. That was more important. And she wanted to give Neena a fair response for the class.<br><br>Gabriel managed to start before her. She had all but expected that, he was obviously the most unphased in the classroom. Even more calm and hopeful than her three experienced students. It almost worried her, but she hadn’t expected him to answer for her. Most of what he said was correct, but she could hear something disparate in the classroom, she aimed to clear it up as soon as she felt it. <br><br>But the natural flow of things went elsewhere, And Gabriel stood, his music was loud in the room, and Bridgette braced for him. It was good to let this valve open now, to open early. She didn’t know what kind of story he would tell, but it disturbed her deeply. As he went into it, Bridgette did her best to guage the tone of the room. She made eye contact with Neena at least once with a shifted nod to say<em> ‘I’m sorry’ </em>silently. And then she used that expression, that tone, that outward calming effect, and broadcasted it instead of the dread she was feeling in her heart.<br><br>Bridgette had a good power for this class. She was a sensitive woman, so emotions truck her deeply, only with her power would she be able to function. As she vividly imagined each part of Gabriel’s alien existence, she let the pain sink in tightly, and privately, to Gabriel, she showed him her understanding. <br><br>Bridges was trying to show the class that she was fine while she expressed to Gabriel that she understood his pain. It was a difficult tightrope to walk, but she had learned a lot about her powers, and it was becoming easier for her to focus emotions like this. She thought for a moment how nice it would be, and how unethical it would be if she could control their emotions, which she could not do.<br><br>When he wrapped up his story, Bridgette looked around the class to make sure everyone was ok. <strong>“Thank you for that, Gabriel. That seemed remarkably easy for you.”</strong> Bridgette turned to the class and used this expression of his as a teaching opportunity. <strong>“Now, zat stirred up emotions in me. I’m sure it did for some of you as well. And we will use dis story as an example for everyone. dhere is…”</strong> She turned her head to the side for a quick moment <strong>“A lot to work wihz”</strong><br><br><strong>“But first,we can touch on politics for a moment so that we can avoid zhem in dha future. Bohz of you were correct. Gabriel,”</strong> That name, came very cleanly and beautifully from her lips, <strong>“You are right, we are human, just with a few extra features, individual to us, like the shapes of our faces, or the size of her feet.”</strong> She was a chipper person, but a sense of intense importance was planted into her sentences. She was an intense individual as well, and making her point was easy for her. <strong>“However, Neena,”</strong> Another name that worked well in her mouth, <strong>“I believe your concerns are very well placed as well.”</strong> She shifted her weight in the front of the class and took a moment to drink her coffee. <strong>“We live tuheataeeous, T-retueha-” </strong>Bridgette could not say that word at all, <strong>“-dangerous lives, obviously, by Gabriel’s story, but an important zing to understand is zhat all pain is pain. No matta ‘owe’ it is caused. When zah body and zah brain tell us zaht we are in trouble. It is natural to hide zeese feelings. To lock zehm away.”</strong> She almost turned to face the board, but another thing came to mind. <strong>"No one is required to stand when they speak. You may if you'd like to, but you can talk while sitting if you'd like to share anything in the future."</strong><br><br><strong>“So, let us begin. I will put down a few items on zah board. Feel free to help me. We can put the same idea into multiple emotions. For instance.”</strong> Bridgette wrote the word enslaved under ‘Fear’ and then drew a line that went from left to right, under every single emotion on the board. <strong>“I think… zaht hit almost every zihng for me.”</strong> She reached for an eraser and brought it up, <strong>“Except for maybe zhis one.” </strong>Ms. Desjardin erased a segment of the line under the word ‘Pride’, and then she put a well sized ‘X’ in that place.<br><br><strong>“Zhere, I will keep adding, if anyone felt something,”</strong> and Bridgette knows that some of them had, <strong>“let me know what made you upset, and under which emotion it fits. We must learn zah difference between zehse things if we want to conquer zem.”</strong><br><br>Bridgette added what she felt she needed to add without making things too intense. She didn’t want to be too specific. The words on the board were stirring up emotions on their own, putting the specific memories that Gabriel had brought up and giving them space in front of the class was not the focus of the exercise. <br><br>“Knives make me nervous,” Said Shane, calmly from the corner of the room. There had been a small details about knives in Gabriel’s story. Bridgette added it to the board. Haily was new, but she understood the exercise and wanted to contribute. She liked the idea, and she could feel herself minimizing her own problems as she investigated the difference between the symbols in the story and the emotion she was feeling. “The um…” It sounded clean in her head, but saying out loud was difficult, “the murder in the story makes me angry…” Bridgette wrote it down on the board and continued putting things in their place as she examined them on her own. ‘Death’ ended up in a few different categories. But she didn’t think to make a line like she had with the idea of slavery.<br><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Chalkboard at end of this post.</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://i.imgur.com/cCJAiVS.jpg)</div></div></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crowe</strong> on <strong>03-04-2017, 23:31:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1314.photobucket.com/albums/t576/croweshadow/Misc/b725c53d3c64e6829f97465579ec0681_zpspymfytmz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jean Grey<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jean's classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Sept 10, morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Robert Coles, CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> <br><hr><br><em>“Robert…try to control it. Its all in your mind.” </em>Jean said as she tried to calm down, but the longer it went on the tougher it was to get through the natural defenses in his mind. While initially shocked, Jean could not allow herself to lose him. In fact, she was even more determined now to save him, even from himself. <br><br>Somehow, Robert was able to regain control of his mind. She listened to him explaining how he managed his powers. She felt saddened by him having to live like that. She could understand sometimes bottling up the darkness inside only to have it come out when less expected. She hoped that she could be able to help him through this. <br><br><strong>“Do not worry. I understand. Its quite a burden you carry, Robert.”</strong> Jean said as she reached to touch his forearm to comfort him. <strong>“That’s good advice they gave you. However, you can’t keep it inside all the time. It will only come out stronger and more out of control, when it does.”</strong> She said and leaned back in her chair. <strong>“I want to help you master and control the power. In order to do that, you will have to confront that part of yourself. For now, we have identified where it stems from.”</strong> She began writing in her tablet. <br><br><strong>“I can set up danger room sequences to help you work through them in a way that you can let go without risking injury to anyone else. Would you like that?”</strong> At some point, Robert would have to deal with the ghosts of his past in order to reconcile the anger inside. Her hope was that he would be able to use it as a motivator rather than something that weighs him down.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ace Flyer</strong> on <strong>05-04-2017, 18:53:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/mOLRayy.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Rahne Sinclaire (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=261894.msg12918404#msg12918404)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Art Room<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 11th, 11:45 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Content:</strong> Making a new friend.<br><hr><br>Rahne just gave Hourglass a kind smile as the girl talked and talked. Yes, she might have been talking a bit much. But it was also easy enough to see that the girl was just nervous, and Rahne knew that it couldn't have been too easy for her to come up like this and make a conversation with someone she didn't know. She struggled with that very thing herself. Even a year at the school, she could comfortably count the number of friends she had on one hand. And it wasn't like Hourglass was causing trouble--the way Rahne saw it, the more talking the girl did was the less she had to say herself, and that was always fine with her.<br><br>"No, no...If you prefer Hourglass, then Hourglass you are." the redhead said with a smile. "Ah like the name...And it fits!" The girl's powers did sound interesting. Much better than her own..."Ah just...turn into a big wolf...Not exactly something to brag much about." <br><br>She hesitated slightly, though, when asked if they could share each others art. Biting her bottom lip, she thought about it...before nodding. What harm could it be? So as Hourglass handed over her sketchbook, Rahne did the same.<br><br>"Ah don't have much special in there, so..." Most of her art was scenery pieces and portraits, mostly done in charcoal. But she was talented, with the scenes and people depicted almost on par with taking a picture on a phone with the sketch filter on. There were depictions of the school from various angles, and people such as Wolverine, Cam, Rogue, and Gambit. And taking Tess's book, she started to look through it. It was an odd style--but she liked it. "These are really good...I like them anyway. I'm not nearly so creative..." she hummed, flipping slowly through the book, examining each piece of art in its due turn. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>WhatLiesAbove</strong> on <strong>07-04-2017, 00:12:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/786635/alexandra-daddario-and-bebe-full-sequin-jacket-by-tara-subkoff-gallery.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Neena Thurman | Domino<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Tessa Cantrell, Bridgette Dejardins<br><strong>Content:</strong> Annoyed at having to be here, dressed like this (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/73/eb/28/73eb28461506a8b08c214b3051daa835.jpg)<br><hr><br>Neena listened to the story, and then turned away. Sure, she could see where Gabriel would have some grief from that story, but still...he had seen people die. They hadn't been killed by his own hand. A memory flashed in her mind afterwards, while everyone was participating in the discussion for the board. Neena hadn't even looked at it. However, her pen dropped as she lifted her hand, letting it settle upon her temple for a moment...the memory was exceptionally visual.<br><br><em>Another training session. The faceless man was behind her, pressing against her...a gun in his hand. Before them, under a stark lightbulb, lay a middle-aged man. His hands were bound behind him, his shirt in tatters. Obviously he had been at the office when he had been picked up.<br><br>"He knows your name, Neena. If he's allowed to leave here, he will tell the cops who you are, what you look like." The voice of the faceless man behind her was almost soothing, though his words sent a shiver down her spine. "And if they find out about you, we have to kill you." The gun from his hand was placed in hers. How easy it would be to kill him. But there were so many like him. She only had one choice.<br><br>"Kill him." The order was given in almost a soothing tone. And then, the sound of a gun went off.</em><br><br>Neena seemed to jump, gasping sharply as she did. Her face was pale, and she realized she was panting for breath. Looking between some of the shocked faces around her, she glanced down, grabbing her pen and beginning to doodle again, furiously. Her cheeks were bright red from embarrassment. She didn't even realize there was a tear in her eye until it rolled down her cheek, causing her to wipe at it almost furiously.<br><br><em>"What the fuck is wrong with me..."</em> the thought came to her easily, though she didn't voice it. Instead, she spoke, her voice almost cold as she looked to the board. <strong>"I wouldn't put death under fear. It happens no matter what...whether from old age, or a bullet in the..."</strong> she had to pause. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Nobody here would see her break. <em>"Your tells will get you killed, Domino. Get rid of them."</em> The words rang true. As if a mask had been pulled over her face, she spoke, her voice even. <strong>"Death comes for us all."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>08-04-2017, 15:41:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2014/244/2/d/laura_pol_paint_by_patricia_crvl-d7xjoof.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Location:</strong> Art Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 11th, 11:45 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Rahne<br><strong>Content:</strong> Making a new friend<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6a/f9/88/6af988d66f556e409cc8b9d3fe26a0f1.jpg)<br><hr><br>Hourglass couldn't help but smile when Rahne decided to accept the use of her chosen name. The thought of eventually losing her old name and her old life was something that was beyond describable. It made her stand a little taller, which didn't help much, considering she was still short. Her eyebrow raised at hearing Rahne's ability. It was interesting, but she could see why Rahne didn't particularly like it; She probably went through a lot of clothes due to it.<strong> "Mine's nothing to brag about either. I don't really have a lot of control over it. I have days that repeat themselves over and over and over. I can't change anything that happens within them, though. It gets very annoying at times and other times it gets very painful. It's like being trapped, unable to move, and just watching and feeling everything again and again until my brain decides I've had enough. Luckily, it's only happened to me once since coming here and only repeated twice."</strong> She didn't know why she felt the urge to share that information with Rahne, considering they were just meeting for the first time. Maybe it was the fact that Rahne didn't seem to like her own mutation, so Hourglass wanted to let her know that she wasn't the only one.<br><br>As Rahne cautiously handed over her sketchpad, Hourglass exchanged it with her own and waited a moment to make sure Rahne was alright with her looking through it, giving her a chance to change her mind if she wanted to. When she didn't change her mind, Hourglass opened to the first page and began looking through the charcoal drawings. She was careful to only grab a small bit of corner to turn the page so she wouldn't mess anything up. <strong>"These are amazing. I've tried charcoal and it's tricky. I always ended up smearing everything,"</strong> she admitted before lifting the paper closer to her face to look at the amount of detail she put into her work.<strong> "You are really amazing at this,"</strong> she mentioned before turning the page and giving the next drawing just as much focus.<br><br>Her own sketchpad was filled with drawings of people, but they were a bit abstract at times. She used a wide variety of colored pens to draw a somewhat psychedelic world. There was a drawing of her own roommate, Blackout, a soccer game that had a shirtless Roberto in it, and other students and teachers that she had spied on during the first week of her being here.<br><br>Once getting through Rahne's sketchpad, she closed it carefully and handed it back with a smile.<strong> "You're very good. How long have you been drawing?"</strong> she asked, curious how long it took Rahne to perfect her work. She seemed to have put a lot of time and attention into it, considering the amount of detail there was in each piece.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>13-04-2017, 00:35:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://img11.deviantart.net/ac83/i/2014/244/2/d/laura_pol_paint_by_patricia_crvl-d7xjoof.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Tessa "Tess" Cantrell | Hourglass<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ms. Desjardins’ psychology classroom - <strong>COPING SKILLS</strong><br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Tusday September 9th - 7:35 AM<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Gabriel Summers, Bridgette Desjardins, Neena Thurman<br><strong>Content:</strong> Having anxiety about sharing.<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Outfit (http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/1hkyg9-l-610x610-sweater-girl-jeans-blue+jeans-white+sweater-necklace-gold+necklace-cardigan-coat-shoes-cute-cute+outfits-cute+outfit-nice-nice+outfit-girly+outfits+tumblr-girly-girly+outfits-girly.jpg)<br><hr>Tessa couldn't help but get lost in her own thoughts as several words were brought up and written on the board. Her blue-gray eyes stayed low, staring at the paper in front of her, but not reading anything on it. Her eyes focused on the blank space between two paragraphs, her eyes out of focus as her thoughts enveloped her.<br><br><strong>"Being a mutant."</strong><br><br>The words escaped her lips as she stared into nothingness. Being a mutant fit under a lot of those categories for her. The fact that she was a mutant is what ruined a lot of her life for her. She couldn't have friends because there was fear in others finding out; The thought gave her anxiety and the loneliness fueled her depression. It also made her fear for her life. All of her scars were because she was a mutant. She was branded as one and tortured for being one. And her scars left her humiliated. She felt hideous and hid them as much as she could without being obvious. Even now, she gripped the ends of her sleeves, her knuckles beginning to turn white as they help the fabric tightly to her palms beneath the table.<br><br>She half-hoped that no one had heard her speak up. Even the feeling of everyone staring at her gave her anxiety. But, that was why she had come to this class. She didn't want to feel this way anymore. She didn't want to have to hide her face and she didn't want to worry about what people thought of her just because she was disfigured.<br><br>It was difficult for her to live among such attractive mutants. Luckily, her roommate understood the feeling of wearing visible scars, but a lot of the students here were seemingly unharmed by the humans that lived outside this mansion... At least physically. She, on the other hand, had dealt with years of torture and had far too many scars to show for it, some of which were still healing. Her forearms had so many scars that the hair had stopped growing and her palms no longer had the well-defined creases she used to have. She hated to even look at her own scars. They made her feel like a hideous monster.<br><br><em>"Maybe I should leave," </em>she thought to herself as she felt her chest tighten, putting pressure on her heart. It was a feeling she knew all too well after living with anxiety for far too long.<br><br><em>"No. I need to get better. I can't keep running away from this," </em>she thought before closing her eyes and breathing slowly, trying to calm herself so she didn't run out of the room right then and there.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>15-04-2017, 22:13:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/08/Chamber_unbound.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>Jono gave a small shrug, "Sure, why not? We are technically a school and don't they do things like spring formals, Halloween costume parties, prom and something in the fall?" Pausing he thinks for a moment trying to remember what he knew of American culture before coming up with the event, "Homecoming? Something to do with sports if I remember right, but since we don't play other schools we might have to call it something else..." When asked if he would dance with her Jono simply told her the truth, "I don't know... The way you look? You'd have men and some girls lined around the room for the chance to dance with you. Why waste your time with me?"<br><br>As she moved closer Jono let out something that came close to a telepathic snort, "You should care about safe... All my powers are good for is destruction." Being a friend and not taking no for an answer? Jono knew of this as it happened in schools around the world and he shook his head, "Not taking no for an answer right? Isn't that like the pretty girls taking the ugly ducking as a friend to simply make themselves look better? I destroyed half a building when my powers emerged... No telling what can bloody happen..."<br><br>As things progressed he really wasn't sure in what to expect, but surprisingly she didn't run screaming from the room. For a moment he wished he was like other telepaths that could read minds, just to see what was in her mind. He definitely didn't expect the words that came from her mouth, and his eyebrows knitted together to suggest a frown would have graced his lips... If he had any... Jonothon shook his head, "I am a monster... I don't deserve to even be alive, but you should be afraid... My heart and lungs are gone along with my stomach, these powers are the only reason I'm still here. The toughest men can handle the sight of me why do you think that you would be any different?"<br><br>Things weren't going the way he expected as Jono stood there and watched as Cam crawled towards him on her hands and knees. For a moment no words came as she explained more about her body and the changes her powers caused. He changed tactics trying to drive the girl away with his words now as he switched to being mean, "Then you are a bloody fool trying to get close in expense of your own safety. My flames might not be normal, but they still left my girlfriend in a coma... Even when she wakes up she'll spend the rest of her life in a wheel chair! It was me that crippled her and it can happen to anyone of you that get close to me.." <br><br>It didn't change anything and he wrapped the black leather back around his face hiding the flames as Cam moved to lay on his foot. His back smacked against the wall before he slid down to his bum. He shook his head before he looked back towards Cam, "A normal person should feel bad about hurting those they care about... I can't even cry."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CandyLips</strong> on <strong>18-04-2017, 19:36:52</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/e3/19/d6e319cf0b62cbf2413c68fe2e853483.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Camelia "Cam" Tuft | Venom<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jono - CLOSED<br><strong>Content:</strong> Trying to prove to Jono that he isn't a monster<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Same as photo<br><hr><br><strong>"I wouldn't be wasting my time,"</strong> she replied simply with a smile. Cam wasn't the type to judge people based on their looks at all. As a model, she had been constantly surrounded by beautiful people. Some, like her, were kind and friendly while others were rude and thought they were better than everyone else. Cam had no reason to be that way. All she wanted in life was to have friends - the more the merrier. She didn't discriminate against those who were visibly mutants or unattractive or anything like that. She didn't care who anyone saw her with or what it might do to her reputation, especially now that she was already labeled as a confirmed mutant. Her days of worrying about being caught were over, giving her open access to hang out with whoever she wanted, be it a mutant with blue fur all over their body or someone like herself, who had no visible characteristics.<br><br>As he called himself an ugly duckling and insinuated that she was just using him for her own motives, she couldn't help but feel her heart sink a little. <strong>"That's not what this is. That's not who I am." </strong>She didn't know how else to explain it to him when he so obviously had already decided that she was just that shallow. She had to prove she wasn't what he thought she was, somehow. Sure, she was beautiful and she could have nearly any guy or girl she wanted, especially with her powers, but she didn't care. All she wanted were friends and he seemed so kind and lonely. He seemed so afraid to get close to anyone and she wanted to help him see that it didn't matter to her. It hurt her to see him give up on having any sort of support group just because he was so worried about the way he looked and the fear of hurting someone.<br><br><strong>"I am stronger than I look. I've watched flesh melt off a man's face and fall like slime filled with loose teeth. I've seen bare bones and watched blood pour from his mouth. I didn't panic or scream. I watched. I stood there watching as he struggled to even breathe because he was choking on his own melted flesh and blood. If you think I can't stomach you, you're dead wrong! Just because I'm a pretty girl doesn't mean I'm weak! I might be stronger than you!"</strong> towards the end, she had began yelling, matching his malice. He was so determined to be alone and it frustrated her. Who would want to be alone for the rest of their life? Who would do that to themselves when there were people who could handle themselves if they got hurt by him? There were mutants in this school who were constantly in a state of healing their own bodies, so why was he so afraid to let anyone close to him?<br><br>When she finally reached him and laid herself down on his foot, she knew he had calmed himself enough to stop pushing her away. She half-expected him to kick her off of him, but he didn't. He simply slid down the wall, as if he was defeated, and allowed her to stay exactly where she was. She had won this small battle between them; It showed promise. If he could breathe, she imagined he would've sighed before speaking. And in her mind, he did. Sure, he didn't have the lower half of his face, but that didn't mean he wasn't expressive. She could see it in his eyes.<br><br>She sat up and scooted over to sit beside him, against the wall. <strong>"Just because you can't cry doesn't mean you don't feel bad. You're harboring so much guilt over an accident that you had no control over. You have to let it go. It wasn't your fault and I'm sure that your girlfriend will understand that when she wakes up. You can still feel terrible about what happened because she was someone you cared about and she didn't deserve it, but it isn't anyone's fault." </strong>Her voice was soft and comforting, trying to help him out through this. She knew that her getting this close to him and trying to break him out of the prison he had locked himself in was probably one of the toughest things for him to allow to happen.<br><br><strong>"You should let me in. I promise I'm not afraid. And I accept the fact that you're potentially dangerous, but I can handle myself."</strong> Slowly, she moved her fingers onto his hand, allowing him to pull away if he needed or wanted to. <strong>"We can come up with some friendship ground rules. If you don't want to dance with me, I'll cry a bunch, but I'll get over it,"</strong> she teased with a smile, hoping to cheer him up a bit.<strong> "What do you say?"</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: X-Men American Civil War - Academic Classrooms</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sasquatch421</strong> on <strong>24-04-2017, 00:58:55</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/08/Chamber_unbound.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jonothon "Jono" Starsmore/ Chamber<br><strong>Location:</strong> Music Classroom<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> September 10th, 2017, Late Evening<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cam Tuft (Closed)<br><strong>Content:</strong> Jono passing time playing his guitar<br><hr><br>Jono shrugged, "Yeah... We'll see, but at any rate we'd need to get at least some of the teachers and possibly Xavier in on this. Most I can do otherwise is an impromptu jam session." At least he wouldn't have to worry about running up some food bill anyways... Not being able to sleep would also give him something to do later on afterwards as someone would need to clean up if they could convince the higher ups on the party idea. There was also an inward groan... They'd probably force a committee together for others to get into the planning. Which meant a possible argument when it came down to the music... While he didn't mind some tunes as long as there was a good guitar riff, there was other music he couldn't stand...<br><br>She kept up with the attempt to convince him then the voice started to be raised as she told Jono about the man's flesh being melted, and how she stood and watched. Cam mentioned that she might even be stronger then Jono and she might even be true. He crossed his arms as he gave a mental snort, "I've only showed you a piece of what's happened to me. These damn things take to long to wrap or I might have chosen to show more. Not that there's much to see anyways... Worse part are the whispers and the stares... Even being where I can see them eat, drink and do things that I've lost the ability to do. What you look at from the outside, I have to live with..."<br><br>Jono gave a small shake of his head, "I'll never know what she'll think as I'll never see her again. Better for her to forget about me, and stay away from the mess that we mutants bring to the table." He knew that she's trying to comfort him as he could tell by the tone in her voice, but it wasn't that simple for him just yet. The incident had been his powers and he was too slow to get Gayle out of the way. He still would blame himself for parts of it.<br><br>Still he looked at her as she sat by him against the wall and mentioned that he should let her in. Jono was silent a moment before looking at her, "I don't know... I don't think you'll fit..." It was a small lame crack, but it was some small piece of humor as least, "Potentially dangerous... You should see what I do to things that aren't carbon based... Big explosions and they keep thinking that I have control of my powers." Looking down at her fingers on his hand a moment he decides to just leave them as she teased him a bit. Thinking a moment Jono finally moved his free hand up towards his face and with a pair of fingers, he drew what might be a small smile over his wraps where his mouth should be. It was something he read in one of those Halo novels, but his voice still sounded soft, "Sure... Why not? As for the dancing we'll see what happens. Perhaps we should just skip getting permission for a dance and just do it outside like those old house parties."
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