2019-05-27 - Welcome to the X-Men

Summary:

Sam and Illyana say hello to the new guy, Daken.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Mon May 27 03:07:44 2019
Location: Institute - Cafeteria

Related Logs

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Theme Song

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sam-guthriedakenillyana-rasputina

Daken had been enrolled at the Institute for only a month, and as such he was still a bit of an outsider when it came to the other students. Dinner has arrived and the young (looking) man is seated at one of the tables near the back of the cafeteria with his tray in front of him. His posture isn't great, hunched over his food like he is. Busily taking a bite from the roll in his hand, Daken's eyes shift upward to mark each person that makes their way past his table as they come and go.


Illyana doesn't live at the Institute, now that she's graduated. She probably could have gotten them to give her a teaching job, but what would she teach? Summoning 101? Not to mention as an elective the students would likely avoid the 'teacher from hell' at all costs. She's not an unfamiliar sight though. If for nothing else the free food at the cafeteria.

The sudden flash of Illyana's stepping disk is familiar enough to just get a few curious looks as the black-on-black leather-clad blonde steps out looking like a reject from an 80's heavy metal concert. She *does* start a few students whispering though, because rumors abound about Magik.

Like Daken, her gaze sweeps the room. Old habits… well, shouldn't die. That's how you stay alive. Her pale blue eyes rest on Daken a moment, not recognizing him before she goes to gather up some food.


Sam Guthrie isn't a student anymore, but he's still here. Is that weird? Well, he tries not to be, mostly by making himself useful. He's also an X-man, which would help, but that's not a thing that the student body is necessarily kept deeply in the loop about. Which, of course, means that everyone knows.

He's got a large loaf of French bread tucked under one arm and is making his way carefully through when suddenly Illyana. That should've been her codename, honestly. He looks back and forth between her and the new boy as she's looking at him. He doesn't know him either, but he knows he should probably break the tension, "Hey, man, welcome to the Institute. I'm Sam. This is Illyana," he says gesturing towards her.


The arrival of Illyana does certainly catch Daken's attention. Given that he was already mean mugging everyone that walked by his table, his eyes meet Illyana's as she looks in his direction and hold for a moment before dipping his head into a slight nod of greeting. Then Sam is speaking in his direction and he lifts a finger in the man's direction before grunting out, "Daken." He has a thick japanese accent, which may make it confusing as to whether the word he said was in some foreign language or was actually his name.

"Akihiro Daken. But most people just call me Daken."


As Sam greets the FNG, Illyana gives a slight shrug and just… invites herself to Daken's table, leaving room for Sam to join as well. Hey, she's got to sit somewhere, right?

"They haven't given you a shiny monkier yet?" Illyana's English could be from Anywhere America, which is odds with her brother's thick accent. "Sometimes they call me Magik, and him Cannonball. Just so if you hear someone talking about us you know who they mean."

Illyana's tray has a variety of foods on it, and she hasn't skimped on it, either. Her eating habits tend to be eclectic, since they lean towards 'yes, please.'


Sam Guthrie selects a seat for himself, "I was allowed to pick my own codename. I liked Cannonball better than Rocket or Fireball or Boom-Boom," he says.

He has a small container of butter and is, yes, just casually eating a bit of crusty bread with butter, rustic as his reputation. He's wearing jeans, boots and a t-shirt from someplace called 'Dollywood'. "We've both been here for a while. Well, on and off," he grins at Illyana, "If you need anything or have any questions, I'm always more than happy to help."


"Cannonball and Magik?" Daken repeats with a lift of his brows and slight smirk. "Must be quite the set of powers you have for yourselves. Can't wait to see them. And no. No one has seen fit to try and name me yet," he adds before tossing the last bit of his roll into his mouth and dusting his hands off. He looks from Illyana to Sam and back again before looking past the pair toward the other students. "What do you do for fun around here? I am about to go a little stir crazy hanging around here."


Once Sam finish buttering his piece of bread, Illyana reaches over to help herself to it, giving Sam a smile that has a bit too much teeth in it to be entirely friendly. At least Sam is used to it, after all these years. It's so much more civilized than when she first showed up at the school and would try to use her fork to stab people with first.

"Well, my mutant power is teleportation. The light disk when I arrived. The 'code name' comes from my background as a sorceress." Which Daken may or may not believe.

Illyana gives a huff of amusement at Sam as he volunteers himself. At least he didn't volunteer the pair of them. As for fun? "Around *here*? Not a lot unless you're big into high school dances. There's Harry's if you want to drink. Usually I go elsewhere for fun." A pause. "When I'm not amusing myself tormenting the student body."


Sam Guthrie smiles, "We're a bit out in the country, but it's not entirely bereft. There's the lake for swimming and the pond for fishing. There's a basketball court and a full gym, if you're into any sort of sports. I like to run myself, although I know that's not to everyone's taste,' he says. "Group activities tend to be a little more scattered, kind of left to your own devices. Mingling is generally encouraged, though, and the rules are pretty relaxed in terms of free time. The expectations are high, as with any good school, but there's a certain amount of understanding that people who come here may come from complex backgrounds and just need somewhere…safe."


"I see," Daken says, though he doesn't say who he is responding to in particular. His tray is empty, his food already eaten. His hands come to pat his chest and then down toward his waist to pat the hip pockets of his jeans before he is lifting and shuffling his body about enough so that he can pull the pack of cigarettes and lighter free. He pounds the pack against the heel of one hand before pulling one of the cigarettes free to put it between his lips. "Sorceress… That sounds like something. What about you Cannonball? What is it that you do?"


Illyana Rasputina quirks a brow upwards as Daken fishes out his cigarettes, but she doesn't say anything. He hasn't lit up. Yet.

"And what is it you like to do for fun, Daken? Not everyone's as into simple pleasures like Sam here who will consider a day spent doing yardwork oh-so-entertaining." Illyana's smirk over at Sam seems to imply enough familiarity that she can tease the tall hayseed.


Sam Guthrie isn't particularly bothered by smoking. He grew up in Kentucky after all, "Probably need to light that up outside. If Bobby sees you with that, he'll freeze it and you for an hour," he says. "C'mon, I could use a walk anyway," he says to Daken, offering Illyana a hand like a gentleman if she wants to join them.

"There's lot of technical terms for what I do, but simple thing is, I blast. I catch on fire, I fly real fast and I crash into stuff. Most of the stuff I crash into breaks," he says. "What about you? Maybe we can help you think of a codename. It can be fun to spitball."


"Yeah? Maybe Bobby'll get his ass kicked," Daken retorts gruffly from around the end of his cigarette balanced between his lips. He doesn't light up though, at least not for the moment. Taking up his tray in hand, he pushes himself up to his feet and then moves over to drop it atop a nearby trash can where a stack of the empty trays is forming. "I got a bike," he says toward Illyana. "Harley that I like to ride when I have the time. I like to drink and I like to fight." As for what he can do, his eyes slip toward Sam as he offers, "I can heal myself. And I have these." One hand lifts, his right, and clenches into a fist as suddenly three foot long bone claws erupt from his flesh, one between his index and middle, and another from between his ring and pinky knuckles. The third comes out of his flesh just beneath his wrist and extends to join the rest from his forearm.


Illyana Rasputina chuckles as Daken makes his gruff reply to Sam. "Fair warning, it's hard to kick someone's ass when you're an ice cube. Also, that might get you some Special Time with the professor, so unless you're rockin' some serious psychic shields…"

The blonde puts her hand in Sam's, letting him help her up to her feet as she listens to Daken's ideas of a good time. "Well, there's probably some fighting rings down in the City." She muses, before going silent at the appearance of Daken's claws. That gets a keen assessment from the pale-eyed blonde. "Well. Guess you're geared towards full assault then."


Sam Guthrie watches the claws carefully, "Most people aren't quite as full lethal as you're apparently…naturally inclined," he says, "Don't get me wrong, I like a scrap or two now and then, but we're all here to help each other, so I wouldn't suggest getting into fights with any of the others here. Bobby included, as Illyana said, he's plenty capable of just turning you into chipped ice."

"If you absolutely need to get your aggression out that way - and I imagine it might be part of who you are - then yeah, there are probably places you can do that. But if your main interest is hurting or killing other people, you'll find that's not very in sync with the guidin' philosophy around here, y'know?" he says, making eye contact with Illyana that shows he's concerned, although as much for Daken as about him.


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