The Great Outdoors. (Open. X-Men and Bhood.)

[Scott Summers]

{{OOC: Some liberties taken with certain characters, if anyone has objections, please PM me}}

Summers was satisfied with the group that had volunteered for this excursion. He knew that many of the children taught at Xavier's weren't quite accustomed to roughing it. Not many of the adults were for that matter, he mused as he check the cargo hold for the last piece of luggage he felt safe in storing for the flight across country. While they could have taken a commercial airline and used various techniques to insure that each of them got through the morass of security and red tape, he had chosen a private plane in an effort to simplify the trip as much as he could.

He'd still had to produce flight plans, have wavers signed by the parents of each child where applicable and prove that the school was a legitimate and accredited institution of higher learning. Hank McCoy had been of great assistance in that regard because of his connections to the government. Scott closed the cargo hold and almost smiled. It had almost seemed traumatic when he'd been obligated to tell certain passengers that they would not be allowed to carry on the remaining luggage he hadn't had room for in the hold. The plane he'd managed to get wasn't lacking in the basic comforts but it was far from able to handle more than one or two reasonably sized bags for each passenger. This accounting for the tents, the cooks stoves, the canteens, the bottled water, the food, the first aid supplies, and so forth.

He sighed when he noticed the hair dryer and curling iron in one of the pieces of luggage, he hadn't had the heart to inform the owner of the probable lack of electricity at the actual camp site. He'd been camping before in RVs but managing this group in five or six separate camps would have defeated the purpose he saw behind the field trip in the first place. As he looked over the paperwork one last time he made sure that he had everything in order. In fairness, nothing had changed since the last time he'd looked but he still felt better checking things again. It seemed he had all that they would need, the Airworthiness certificate, Registration certificate, Operating handbook(in case Logan gave finally gave him a heart attack or Emma wanted to explore life at a mile high), finally he was certain that his calculations regarding Weight and Balance data were in order.

He'd planned a seating chart using each body weight and mass as affected by the luggage and supplies but had been talked out of such a rigorous plan of attack for what was still meant to be a fun experience for the faculty and students. Stashing the documents and performing a last minute walk around he began in the cockpit. He turned the control wheel lock off, checked the ignition switch and removed the keys. He followed this up with the master switch, checked the fuel levels, lowered the flaps and turned the master switch off. Finally he turned the fuel valve on. He turned on the no smoking sign.

Summers checked the empennage, removed the tail tie down and checked the elevator, rudders and weights. The antenna came next. Flight crews on the ground had already performed much of this but he simply felt better about the condition of this unfamiliar jet and the safety of everyone involved having performed his own exacting exam. Once he was sure that all was in order and that everyone was on board, Scott radioed the tower and positioned them for take off. The 12 passenger jet would be able to travel at 1200 mph and would have them at their destination in no time at all, relatively, The sleek craft took to the air smoothly with Cyclops at the helm, after training on the Blackbird and countless other planes, this was a joy to handle.
In many ways, Summers was like a boy with a 130 foot long, 2 billion dollar toy. For Summers, an experienced pilot, the flight would be largely uneventful. They would land on a private air strip very near where Custer held his last stand.

The Jet:
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The destination, though Scott has booked camping sites along one of the rivers about two miles from the lodge and resort proper"
www.custerresorts.com/

[Wanda Maximoff]

((OOC: If I've left anyone out let me know, and apologies in advance))

Camping. Real American Camping. It was all very exciting, though Wanda had yet to figure out how camping was any different than the first half of her life had been. Living off the earth, spending the evening without television and around a camp fire seemed about as much like being a gypsy as anything else that she had yet to come across in America. The major difference being that the Xavier Institute had brought along ever conceivable piece of equipment needed, all high tech and expensive, whereas Wanda's family had had to build or barter for anything they used. Settling into one of the seats on the private jet she glanced around the cabin, doing one last mental count of the students. They all seemed to be there, and most importantly so was John Allerdyce.

Though she had been one of the staff who truely wanted to give the mutant known as Pyro a second chance she was not foolish, unlike her own his defection from the Brotherhood has not been of his choosing. At least not totally, since he had been faced with jail if he refused to co-operate. Though John was silent on the issue, she knew her father's beliefs could be seductive, and she was not yet convinced that John had seen the error of his ways. He was onboard fully at Wanda's suggestion, because she hoped that if he could once again bond with students at the school he might open up, and possibly realize that he had more options than simply serving Magneto.

Wanda adjusted her Boston Red Sox's baseball hat and glanced out the window. The hat had replaced the New York Yankees hat that she had worn for a few months, not because she supported the Red Sox's more than the Yankees but simply because it was red in colour and there was the word "Red" in the team name. It was how she was trying to pass herself off as an American, though she was no longer wanted by the government for her time in the Brotherhood (she had turned herself in following the Chimera Virus incident) she was also not exactly legally in the country. Thanks to her aiding the government by telling them (almost) everything she knew about the Brotherhood they were currently overlooking her status as an illegal alien, as she applied for American citizenship.

Her eyes scanned the cabin more, falling on the back of Scott Summer's head. She smiled, remembering her crush on the man that she had harbored for years since seeing him while she was in the Brotherhood. Half of her feelings for him had to do with the fact that he was the cleanest man she had ever met who was not directly related to her, which might seem odd but when she was in a team with Sabertooth and Toad, personal hygiene had been an issue. Now she still loved him, but no longer had any fantasies that they would ever be a couple. They were close, but not in the way that lovers got closer, but more like Brothers and Sisters. In fact with Pietro absent so much from the school she had turned him into her surrogate Pietro. Besides it seemed to Wanda that Emma wanted Scott and Wanda had enough issues with Emma Frost without competing for the attention of the same man.

Logan was there too, another teacher that Wanda had grown close to. Though not really friends, she at least felt far more comfortable around the mutant known as Logan than she had when she first arrived at the school. Then Wanda had seen Logan as an animal, assuming that he was going to be very similar to Sabertooth who she had always been terrified of. During her time in the Brotherhood any time she was alone with Victor Creed she was always afraid that he would rape her, or murder her. He never did, a fact she attributed more to Magneto than any human decency on Sabertooth's part. Logan was not like that, though he could be gruff, Wanda had grown to trust him.

Wanda grinned at Maria Callasantos as she glanced at the woman known as Feral. The two had become friends recently. Both had come from poor backgrounds, and because Wanda felt blessed to have had her adopted family the Maximoffs in her life she was empathetic to Maria's much more troubled childhood. Maria was one of the few people who Wanda felt understood her, as she too had done things in her past that she regretted. Apart from Pietro Maria was the one person Wanda felt comfortable telling her darkest secrets too, and was seriously considering telling her that she continued to meet semi-regularly with her father Magneto.

Emma Frost. It was hard to read the woman, who kept her emotions as tightly controlled as she did everything else in her life. However the Scarlet Witch felt that Frost did not trust her, even after everything that Wanda had done for the X-Men and the Institute. Perhaps, she considered, this was just the last of her feelings of guilt lingering but the feeling remained. Wanda for her part felt that Emma possessed a certain moral flexibleness that she passed onto students, and a sense of privilege that came too close to Magneto's belief that because mutants were more powerful then humans they deserved to rule. Emma was someone Wanda had to work closely with, given that they both were staff advisors to the Junior X-Men teams and that in her role of Headmistress Emma was one of Wanda's two bosses.

Continuing her brief head count she saw Paige and Melody Guthrie. Both girls were adored by Wanda, though Melody in particular had become dear to the Scarlet Witch. Not having a family of her own at the moment Wanda had unofficially adopted the Guthrie girls as her children. She guessed that they probably found the attention she gave them a bit annoying, nobody wants to be a teacher's pet after all.

Candra von Hamilton and Ethan Jaeger were also there. Wanda knew neither student particularly well, though she knew that Ethan had been one of the young mutants that the X-Men had brought with them out of District X after the outbreak of the Chimera Virus. She regretted not having had time to reach out to him, but she had been busy getting prepared for her role as staff liaison to the Excelsiors and with setting up her centre in District X to help those mutants who still remained there. Candra seemed nice enough, though Wanda still questioned the girl's choice of attire for the camping trip, with the pair of shoes that Candra was wearing probably costing more than the teacher's entire wardrobe.

Leaning forward she spoke up, her voice filling the small jet's cabin, "So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?" She did not mention the fact that she had lived an entire year alone in the Eastern European wilderness, or had spent her childhood living far more rustically than they were about to, because she had asked the question less for herself than for the students who might not have much of a background history with the outdoors. And to ignite conversation amongst the travelers.

[Logan Howlett]

Logan hated flying.

He'd claimed a seat behind Scott and was staring thoughtfully at the back of the man's head. He had to admit - and he'd take a bullet before saying it out loud - that Scott's prissy, checking-it-twice, uptight behavior had at least one benefit. They weren't likely to run out of gas a thousand feet off the ground.

"So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?"

Logan snorted. "With Scout here," he jerked a thumb at Scott. "Expect a damn sign out sheet for taking a piss."

He let his head thump back on his seat but went on more seriously. "America's bigger, Wanda, a hell of a lot bigger than anyplace in Europe. Even as built up as everything is now - don't expect to walk out to someplace civilized if you get lost. And the weather where we're going gets cold at night, sometimes below freezing, any time of the year."

His mouth quirked in an unseen smile, as he hadn't bothered to turn around to face her. "And there's some hella big cows around there."

There was nothing like bison in Europe, not wild, not for hundreds of years. Even deer weren't found much outside reserves and game farms. Logan let slide how he knew that - and the tickle of visual memory, as if he'd been to Europe. Somewhere. Someday.

"Mountain lions in the state but we ain't gonna see them with all us tramping around." He paused. "Muskrat are good eating, if you can catch 'em."

[Candra von Hamilton]

The interior at least looked decent enough for the high maintenance princess who just boarded the vehicle. Upon entering, she chose the seat closest to the door only so she wouldn’t have to walk any further. Just as Candi sat down she began to take out her cigarette pack searched for her Zippo, when the leader of the X-Men, Cyclops, wonderfully reminded her that this flight was going to be cigarette-free thanks to his no smoking sign. She set her purse beside her with a sigh, opened the current month’s edition of Vogue magazine and began to paint her nails. Though they would be traveling at fast speeds to get to their destination, Candi knew that it was going to be a painfully annoying ride unless she had something to do that was sensible for her.

Out of the corner of her mysterious blue eyes, she peeked as the other students and faculty members of the school assembled themselves in the jet. She was neither student nor teacher, just a local resident of Xavier’s Institute because she wanted to learn more about her mutant abilities. For some of them (namely those who were in-tune with nature and its wild calling) this camping experience was an exhilarating time to be spending outside of the school grounds. For a strictly city girl like Candi, it seemed like it was going to be an exhausting, unhygienic, and highly incommodious, especially with the girls already attacking her about her outfit earlier.

"So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?"

Wanda. There was one thing that Candi couldn’t put her finger on, and it was how someone could always seem optimistic and naive about assessing all situations. In honesty she doubted that the woman was naive at all, perhaps she was undeniably intelligent and thus only makes herself seem so to have others underestimate her. Whatever the reasoning may be, Candi kept her mouth quiet. She wasn’t going to start with what she thought were important during the camping trip such as wearing SPF block, making sure to have a nail file incase someone breaks a nail, or having a tent that had a net so no bugs or creepy crawlies can get inside. Besides, she wasn’t the right person to ask about such issues anyways. From the look of the person across the jet, he seemed like the most likely candidate.

"With Scout here, expect a damn sign out sheet for taking a piss."

"Charming," she thought to herself as she raised an eyebrow to his general vicinity. As he gladly informed (or in Candi’s case, babbled) to Wanda about the fanaticisms of big bad woods with lions, tigers, and its own personal biggie-sized cows, Candi simply pondered of how anyone could even fathom wanting to take a trip in the woods. It was dirty, cold, wet, and not to mention, filled with creatures that could leave a girl with unattractive bug bites. If the trip were up to her, she would have devised a trip to Europe to go sight-seeing and shopping. Perhaps more students and faculty members would have joined in the leisure time, but she was in no place to suggest anything to the school especially when she was only a resident.

"Muskrat are good eating, if you can catch 'em."

"Ugh," this time, it was audible. Candi was not opposed to eating meat, but she rarely did. If so, it would most likely be chicken or fish since her intake of steak is about twice a year and for pork, nearly non-existent. The thought of having to catch one’s dinner, however, skinning it, gutting it and then finally cooking it without the necessary ingredients didn’t seem appealing to her. It was why the beautiful blonde was a little thankful for her Nutri-System diet dinner. They may not be the most fetching at first glance, but it wasn’t an animal that was just recently masticated either.

Silently, Candi went back to her own business. She flipped through page by page of Vogue while now adding the second coat of pink polish on her luxurious nails. This was definitely going to be something Candi would remember for the rest of her life, especially when it involved the most awkward group of people gathered for a camping trip. She could only hope that they weren’t expected to do trust falls or hold hands around the campfire and sing kumbaya, because she wasn’t going to have it. Participating in group activities would be acceptable for her, as long as she can have half an hour alone to tan.

[John Allerdyce]

This was maddening. It was bad enough being expected to return to life as a student at the Xavier Institute, learning a bunch of stuff he did not need to know from people whose faces he could barely look at without gagging, but to be sent camping with them? It was some kind of cruel and unusual punishment beyond what should have been allowed. He hated each and everyone of the staff aboard the jet, starting with Scott Summers who he hated the most and working his way down.

Logan and Wanda Maximoff he reserved a special conflicted hate. Both of them could have been better than what they were, but choose to be weak and stupid. In the defense of Scott Summers he had been raised that way by Xavier, but Logan had been a powerful mutant with a killer edge before being tamed and Maximoff had been Magneto's daughter and a member of the Brotherhood before betraying her own father. The Feral woman, well he just hated her, out of all of them she was the one that cut him the least slack and got in his face the most.

The only good thing about the trip was that away from the mansion the female student to male student ratio was in his favour. As much as he might despise the female members of the staff he had a weak spot for girls his own age. Cute girls at least. Still he knew that he had an uphill battle with that, since he was not exactly the friendliest guy at the Institute and was still something of a pariah for trying to kill the oh-so-popular Bobby Drake. Still he did have the baby boy image going for him, and girls liked that.

He kept himself occupied by looking out the window and feeling through his pockets for his lighter. It was not there, he had not had one since Alcatraz and the Institute would not let him get a new one. Still it had become such a part of him that he kept checking, just in case he had misplaced it. It was like having lost a limb.

[Rahne Sinclair]

Rahne hated flying more then anything else in the world. The first time she’d flown, on that fateful flight from Glasgow to New York, she’d spent the entire flight huddled into a ball on the floor of her seat, her hands pressed over her ears, praying that the airplane wouldn’t suddenly drop out of the sky and send them all crashing like helpless little bits into the ocean. Or maybe, paying that it would just so the ceaseless noise and jerks and hums would stop.

She’d flown twice more while she’d been a student at the institute, neither of which had been much better. She’d learned to cover up her fears and remain seated upright in her chair, but every second of the flight she was alert and on edge. She preferred to travel by train or car if given a choice in the manner.

It wasn’t just a fear of flying, although that did fuel the problem. Her mutant powers meant that she was fully aware of every noise made by the engine, every click and every groan, that she was aware of every tiny movement or change in altitude made by the airplane, no matter how tiny or slight, that she was aware of every change in pressure. There was no such thing as a smooth flight for a feral mutant with a fear of flying, no matter how fancy the jet.

She had been the first on the plane, leaving her single small bag on the runway (wolves had surprisingly few needs in the wild) and finding a seat in the back corner of the plane where her nervousness might go unnoticed by the rest of the cabin. She’d gone over the flight in her head, practicing the relaxation techniques that she’d learned at the Institute and changing the mantra’s she’d looked up on Google the night before. She tried to prepare for the flight and for a few seconds before take off she thought she might be okay… and then Mr. Summers had turn the engine on and that hope had quickly disintegrated.

She did fine some reassurance in the fact that Logan, sitting a few rows a head of her at the front of the plane, seemed to be unbothered by all the noises and movements that must be as clear to him as they were to her. The older, more experienced mutants had more then three flights under his belt and a healthy sense of self preservation, so the fact that he was sitting calmly in his chair discussing camping with Miss Maximoff made her feel slightly better, although she still kept a tight grip on her seat arm.

Miss Callasantos was there too, meaning that she had two early warning gauges if the plane suddenly decided to fight back against it’s uninvited passengers and buck off them off like an angry dragon (something the canine and non-technical aspect of her personal felt that could happen at any second.) Yet even though Miss Callsantos was sitting slightly closer to her, and easier to see then Logan, Rahne still failed to take the same reassurance from the woman. She didn’t have the same trust in her that she did in Logan, she was just too cat like. She respected her, even envied her at times, but she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted her. The human aspect of her brain told her that it was simply because she didn’t really know the women and once she got to know her she’d find her simply lovely and engaging, just like everyone else did. But the canine part of the brain said sneaky cat, bite. The canine part wasn’t nearly as verbose as the human part.

For a second she looked over at Miss Callasantos, wondering what it was about the women that made her “other half” think of her as cat like. She wasn’t a shape-shifter and she looked no more physically like a cat then any one else on the plane. But she was utterly convinced that the woman was cat-like. She wondered if Logan felt the same way, of if it was simply a delusion of her shape changing half. She thought about asking him during their next lesson, but decided against it. She wasn’t sure that reminding him that there was another feral teacher about would end up being a good thing. She was happy working with Logan, who appealed to both her feral and human half equally. He was decidedly canine, not the least cast-like, and he had that sort of “alpha dog” thing going for him that seem appear to her feral half. And he seemed quite happy to leave their relationship in the student/teacher realm, and unlike other teachers, seemed particularly uninterested in becoming her friend or confidant or father. Which please the human part of her. She didn’t know what Miss Callasantos would be like as a teacher, given her cat-like-ness and outgoing personality, and she wasn’t anxious to find out.

She could hear Logan describing the merits of the Black Hills wildlife to Miss Maximoffs, and his voice was just as relaxed and seemingly careless as his appearance. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could tell that he was unbothered by the flight, and that seemed to be reassuring enough. She turned her eyes down to her book, and started at the page without reading. She’d brought a copy of Les Misérables along with her as a sort of shield to keep the others from noticing her nervousness during the trip. Because it was written in French, she could keep it open for the same page for fifteen or twenty minutes and all anyone would think was that she was having a bit of trouble with her translation. Had anyone ever bothered to examine her French they would have found she read just as well in French as she did in English, but no one had ever bothered. She didn’t think anyone at the institute even knew she spoke French.

She read a sentence, decided that she didn’t have the attention span for a description of the country side and flipped a few pages ahead. Logan was talking about big cows and the comment made her pause for a second. Miss Maximoffs’s request for camping advice, which had been given several movements before and at the time passed by quiet unnoticed by her, seemed to hit her suddenly like a ton of slightly out of place bricks. Why was Miss Maximoffs, of all people, asking for camping tips? She’d grown up a gypsy, a fact that probably had meant more to Rahne, who’d grown up in a town often plagued by gypsies, then it had to the other children. She remembered seeing the gypsy camp down by the river near school and had often visit it with her father to watch him convert them to a meaningful life. (A fact she’d never admit to Miss Maximoffs, not that the women would ever notice her long enough to ask.)

She really did like the teacher, despite her past. She’d taken her philosophy course during the previous year, and learned more there then in most of her other courses. Sure she didn’t really participate in the discussions, which were most of the class, but she listened a lot. She’d always wanted to talk to Miss Maximoffs, about religion, to tell her what she’d been taught her father’s church, what she read in books, to show her she was more then just a feral. But she never had. There were too many Guthrie’s in the world for a Sinclair to be noticed.

She often wondered if she hated the Guthries. Sometimes she felt like she should, the way they seem to have everything she wanted: they had better looks, they had more friends, they had all the teachers’ attention, they had siblings and family, they had self confidence. It was madding how much they had and how much people pitied them from the little they didn’t have. But she knew she couldn't really hate them, that the Guthrie’s weren’t any worse then any other kid at the school, just that there were more of them. But regardless of whether or not it was hate or jealousy, she had not been happy to see both Paige and Melody on the list of students she was accompanying on this field trip.

She’d thought Mr. Summers was crazy when she saw the list of student’s going on the trip. Most of them were barely capable of surviving a walk through the institute back garden, let alone a camping trip in the black hills. She’d asked to be left behind, to watch the younger kids while the adults were all off camping. She liked the younger kids, she wasn’t afraid of talking to them or playing with them. They thought she was cool. She’d told him that saying there was a much better way of earning her scholarship money then going on a camping trip with a bunch of students her own age who didn’t need her to help them or teach them or take care of them. But Mr. Summer’s had had his reasons. He always did. She’d never known him to not have a reason. She didn’t think he was capable. She wished she could say the same about Ms. Frost, who was so unpredictable that, frankly, terrified her living soul.

The plane hit a little turbulence, causing her to jump slightly and nearly loose grip on her book. She wanted to look up, to see if Logan was still calmly discussing buffalos with Miss Maximoffs or if she should be worried, but she couldn’t. She was convinced that if she moved her body, even her eyes, that the shift in weight would be enough to throw the plane from its trajectory and send them crashing downwards.

After a few seconds of semi-stillness and a few silent directives, she was able to talk herself into looking up to check with Logan. Once she’d made sure he was unalarmed and ready, she returned to her book, forcing her to read it. “Dans le pays on l’appelait l’Alouette. Le peuple, qui aime les figures, s'était plu à nommer de ce nom ce petit être pas plus gros qu'un oiseau, tremblant, effarouché et frissonnant, éveillé le premier chaque matin dans la maison et dans le village, toujours dans la rue ou dans les champs avant l'aube. Seulement la pauvre Alouette ne chantait jamais.

Some how, Victor Hugo just wasn’t as interesting at this altitude.

[Laura Kinney]

She supported the fact that she was even on the plane by rather thinking she had been forcibly drugged. The outdoor aspect was no problem for the teenager - it was the number of other beings she would be around that bothered her. She had it in her mind to eventually 'get lost' and leave on her own as soon as they landed, then return shortly before they left. That plan had its doubts, but was the highest on the list. She simply did not want to socialize. She had to, however - she had been told over and over it was an essential aspect of her personality that she would be required to work on.

But with Barbie on the trip, that goal seemed farther and father away from accomplishment.

As soon as she was in her seat she closed her eyes. Her face was as firm as stone, the fair marble not moving. Through the words that were exchanged in the open conversation the teenager made no attempt to join or even seem interested. She listened to it, yes, but nothing more.

Ebony curls tickled at her jaw, the soft feeling against the pale flesh one that she made it a task to ignore. It occupied her time, which was all that mattered. She had to disregard the itch, as if her life depended on it. She shouldn't focus on what was around her, even though with her preoccupied mind it was like she had been recording it all this time. Her chest rose and fell with every controlled breath she took, the white tank top and thick black sweatshirt a barrier between her chest and folded arms. The jeans she wore wrapped around her toned legs, angled so they seemed to be relaxed. The soles of her boots lay flat on the metal floor of the cabin, the leather laced up to just below her knee.

Turbulence hit and it phased her none. Her stiffened state made it seem like she was in a slumber, but those that knew her well knew she wasn't so. No one really knew her to begin with. She cared less about it, too. All she had on her mind now was when this would all end and she'd be able to return to happy solitude at the mansion. However, the isolation never lasted long enough for her.

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Muskrat are good eating, if you can catch 'em."

Wanda smiled from behind the brim of her baseball cap, "Thank you Logan, I am sure we will all keep our eyes out for that delicacy. I was actually more interested in learning about these rituals you have with marshmallows, chocolate and graham cookies. I believe they are something to do with camping. Also I understand that the custom is to tell scary stories, I have been saving some very scary tales for this trip."

Wanda's eyes looked over the cabin again and she noticed Rhane Sinclair. The girl was quiet and Wanda had to admit that she did have a tendency to overlook the young woman. The trouble was Rhane was a good student, but seemed shy. So Wanda did neither gave her the attention that she gave to students who she had to help through the course because they did not understand it or acted out in class, nor did she give her the attention she gave to the more outgoing students who made an effort to get to know Wanda herself. Wanda until recently had kept to herself, and it was not until Scott Summers essentially dragged her out of her shell by befriending her and then making her the staff liaison to one of the junior X-Men teams that she made herself comfortable around students.

"Personnellement je t'aime Quatrevingt-treize,"1 she said glancing across the cabin at Rhane. Her French was fluent, but she lacked the natural poetic flow that native speakers had. Hers was tinged with her Germanic tongue, polluted slightly by the fact that her own native tongue was a mish-mash of German, Polish, Hungarian and Slavic, none of which complemented French well.
"J'ignorais que vous ayez su le français. Est-ce que ce n'est pas peu commun en Ecosse?"2

Feeling foolish she confessed, "Je fais des excuses mais mon Français n'est pas très fort."3

Switching back to English she leaned close to Rhane, "I am glad that you were able to come with us. I understand that in America that, what is the word, alumni are thought of highly. Besides it gives me a chance to get to know you better, as equals and not in the unfortunate power structure that traditional classroom environments foster. I perhaps was a bit of an unpredictable teacher, and maybe not as easy to know."

Unpredictable was a slight understatement. Wanda had pretty much ignored every school rule while teaching her classes, and generally allowed her students to do the same. This lead to near anarchy in most classes, where she quickly got a reputation for being what is known as "a soft touch". Her decision to allow the students to assign there grades had not been the soaring success she had assumed the social experiment would be, with most students simply giving themselves A+ instead of doing any real soul searching of their contribution to the classroom environment. Then her decision to ban all forms of electronics, including iPods, mechanical pencils and laptops, had been widely (and accurately) assumed to be because she herself did not understand these things.

In any other class she would probably have been fired. In any other school she might have been fired. However very few other schools expected a teacher to risk their life on a regular basis saving lives. And whatever the other staff might think of her, Wanda hoped by now that they understood that when it came to protecting the students, she would do anything. It earned her some leniency, though she at least had consented to making a formal lesson plan for this upcoming semester and allowing Scott Summers and Emma Frost to review it before the school term began.

1 "Personally I love Ninety-Three."
2 "I was not aware that you spoke French. Is that not unusual in Scotland?"
3 "I apologize, my French is not very strong."

[Maria Callasantos]

Amber eyes stared out the window, the eyes disguised behind aviator sunglasses, the expression on the face of the owner silent and meditative. This was the first time in what felt like years that Maria had taken it upon herself to have a small vacation. And most wouldn’t consider going off on a camping trip with a bunch of mutant misfits much of a vacation. But Maria did. She had just returned to the school about a week ago, but already Maria felt like she was leaving home. Being away had been hard on her. She had missed the staff and the students. Despite her best efforts, they had grown on her. And now that she was back she was once again leaving. But this time it wasn’t to go hunt down mutant felons. This time it was to go on a camping trip.

Maria kept her gaze looking outwards, the look on her face pensive and calm. Dressed in her typical brown leather jacket, white sweater, jeans and boots, Maria sat in her seat like a lion resting in the sun, her eyelids heavy, her shoulder-length brown loose and recently washed and styled with gel. All in all she looked at ease, her head resting against a hand, elbow resting on the seat rest.

She got a window seat and with good reason. Like a lot of feral mutants, Maria hated to fly. Had something to do with the sensation of being trapped in a confined space. Animals needed space to roam, to move, to breathe. And that was something planes didn’t really specialize in. To Maria all planes seemed to resemble an electric shaver with wings. The one Scott had chosen looked even more fragile while it lay there on the runway. So Maria thought ahead and got a window seat first thing. If there was one thing that helped claustrophobia, it was the sight of outside a window. That and booze... which was the next step Maria took, her other hand periodically bringing up her silver flask to her lips, the sharp taste of gold tequila a warm welcome. It wasn’t enough to get her drunk, not with her healing factor coming into play, but it did succeed in taking the edge off.

As the plane rocketed off the airstrip, Maria got the feeling that eyes were on her, and she turned to the other occupants to catch Wanda smiling at her, her warm smile making Maria smile a smile of her own. Wanda Maximoff. Codenamed the Scarlet Witch. Out of all that were going, it was Wanda that Maria liked the most to be with. The two of them had very similar backgrounds. Fucked up family, poverty, and a shady past. And like her, Wanda was out to make a better life for herself. Giving the crimson-haired sorceress a wink, Maria glanced at the other cabin residents, her eyes narrowing.

Logan sat just across from her. Logan. The man. The legend. Not to surprising that he was going. It was a well known fact that the man was at home in the wild, like she was. Plus he no doubt was just dieing for a chance to drive Scott nuts, a hobby both Logan and she shared. Giving Logan a fresh wink, Maria glanced to the next occupant.

Namely Wolfsbane. Maria caught the girl glancing at her and had to struggle to keep from chuckling. Nope. The girl still thought she was a crazy, wild woman. Probably had something to do with that bear she and Logan ate a few months ago. Bear makes for some good eating… once you tenderize it a little… and get past the fur…. But once you do, it was some good eating. Apparently Rahne still didn’t think so.

Glancing at the rest, Maria felt her smile falter, her expression darkening into a grimace. Of the rest that were going, Maria wasn’t exactly too fond off. Especially John and Candra. In all honestly Maria couldn’t understand why the hell those two were going in the first place. Candra’s reason was an odd one, that’s for sure. The girl just did not strike her as the hiking type. More like the mall time. And John… well him she just detested. Wanda joined the X-Men out of good will, and the need to seek peace in her already chaotic life. But what was John’s reason? Self preservation. Maria didn’t trust him. Something she relished in reminding him… that and the fact that she knew where he slept. One wrong move and she’d eat his liver. Gladly.

“So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?”

Maria blinked her amber eyes and twisted in her seat to look over at Wanda, her innocence only outdone by her beauty. What a doll. She was just too cute for words. About to respond with a tip about the advantages of bug spray, Maria was interrupted by a loud snort to her side. “With Scout here, expect a damn sign out sheet for taking a piss. Muskrat are good eating, if you can catch ‘em.”

Maria couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, Maria turning to give Logan a toothy grin. Always expect Logan to keep you entertained with one-liners. Catching Candra groan of distain and the green look on Rahne’s face, Maria felt herself smile even wider, her head shaking from side to side. Logan. What a card. This trip may be a lot of things, but boring ain’t one of them.

“Thank you Logan, I am sure we will all keep our eyes out for that delicacy. I was actually more interested in learning about these rituals you have with marshmallows, chocolate and graham cookies. I believe they are something to do with camping. Also I understand that the custom is to tell scary stories, I have been saving some very scary tales for this trip.”

Maria turned to Wanda, smiling warmly now. “They’re called Smores doll, and yea. It’s a tradition to tell ghost stories.” Maria answered simply, giving Wanda a toothy grin. “And I’m pretty sure I know some stories that’ll curl your hair.” Maria said in challenge.

Settling back down into her seat, Maria inhaled a long breath and glanced over at the cockpit, catching a glance of the top of Scott’s head. Grinning with playful malice, Maria sat up on her seat and called out. “Yo, Slim. Where’s the chick with the peanuts? And will Logan and I be able to eat any of the buffalo? I feel like some red meat for dinner tonight.” Maria called.

Oh yes. This was going to a fun trip indeed.

[Rahne Sinclair]

Rahne was busy counting the pings in the engine, convinced that her C+ average in mathematics would make her capable of analyzing their rate of frequency and some how turn that calculation into a prediction of how long the plane was likely to stay in the air.

She’d reached 37 and realized the activity was strangely meditative when her ear caught the sound of French being spoken.

"Personnellement je t'aime Quatrevingt-treize,"

Personally, I like 93.. Her brain instantly translated.

It wasn’t often that people spoke French at the institute, since the only language class was in rudimentary Spanish and few students seemed interested in anything else. Rahne had known that some of the other teachers spoke French, and when she enrolled she’d been told that someone would be assigned to continue her French lessons. But that promise had been forgotten in the wake of the Professor’s death and Rahne had never been confident up to follow up on it. Besides, the only person at school she was sure spoke French was Mr. LeBeau, and he was not someone she had really wanted to take private lessons from.

[color=Red"J'ignorais que vous ayez su le français. Est-ce que ce n'est pas peu commun en Ecosse?"[/color] The French continued. I was not aware you spoke French, isn’t that uncommon in Scotland?

As Rahne turned to meet Miss Maximoffs gaze with her own large green eyes, she realized the teacher was speaking to her. It was probably the 9th or 10th time the women had spoken directly to her in the entire time she’d known her and the fact took her a little by surprise. Even though the women was looking right at her, referring to a book by the same author she was holding, and asking about the Scotish education system, she still had to glance over at the Guthrie’s to make sure the comments really were directed at her.

"Je fais des excuses mais mon Français n'est pas très fort.’. Miss Maximoffs said, very clearly to Rahne. I am sorry, my French isn’t very good.”

There was no doubt that the woman was speaking to her and Rahne had no idea what to say about it. She opened her mouth to speak back, but was unable to pull together a single word, so she sort of hung there like a fish for a second, gasping for water in the air.

“Nous avons été requis d'apprendre le français à l'école en Ecosse.”2 She finally managed to get out after a few minutes of scouring her brain for any sign of a french verb. “Programme d'études national.”

She spoke with a good accent, with only the slightly hint of her Scotlish brogue around the “r”s. But she was slightly akward in her speaking, fluent, but with a slight funny cadence and rhythm, as if unused to speaking in the language… which she wasn’t. Without a French tutor, she’d been forced to continue her language study in books.

“Je faisant les études pour mes plus hauts examens dans le français, avant que je suis venu à l'institut.” She added, in case the women wasn’t looking for a lecture on the merits of the Scottish national curriculum. She looked down at her book, and realized what the women had meant when she made the funny comment about 93. She’d been so focused on the pings that she hadn’t realized it at the time. It made her feel a little embarrassed and foolish, sitting there as a French literature major and not even recognizing the title of one of France’s more famous works.

"I am glad that you were able to come with us. I understand that in America that, what is the word, alumni are thought of highly. Besides it gives me a chance to get to know you better, as equals and not in the unfortunate power structure that traditional classroom environments foster. I perhaps was a bit of an unpredictable teacher, and maybe not as easy to know."

There was a short pause as Rahne tried to digest the teacher’s strange comments. The women was actually glad that she had come along on the camping trip? She was actually looking to get to know her better? She actually thought she was highly thought of now that she was a graduate? No one thought highly of Rahne, or even thought of her at all. No one wanted to get to know her better or felt glad she’d come on the trip, or even realized she’d come on the trip at all.

For a second she looked around the airplane again, wondering if this was some sort of a big joke, courtesy of the perfect Guthrie girls or the less-then-perfect but twice-as-mean John, or if Logan or Mr. Summers had taken an uncharacteristic interest in her well being and pushed the female teacher to take a sudden interest in her.

She decided that the later idea was probably more likely and that Mr. Summers was more likely to be the guilty instigator then Mr. Logan. The headmaster had probably gotten worried that, now that she was a college girl leaving in a coed dorm, that she would become corrupted by the wild college life and start doing drugs and becoming sexually active and ripping the throats out of small animals (a danger that only half-canine mutants faced). He’d probably assigned Miss Maximoffs to befriend her and give her a little motherly advice and make sure she stayed a good little mutant girl.

Now that she thought about it, Miss Maximoffs was the sensible choice, given the female staff onboard. Ms. Frost would simply tell her not to do anything stupid and most on with thinks, and Miss Callsantos was more likely to hand her a pack of condoms, teach her how to do a keg stand, and get her into bear fighting.

“Thank ya.” She said, not quite sure what to say after the women’s strange announcement. “I mean, ya weren’t that bad. Just busy. Teachers here got an interesting time of it. I mean, there’s a lot going on, saving the world an’ all. Most teachers dinna have worry about that stuff.”

It was the offical “Xavier Student” excuse, and had they been allowed to form any normal and honest relationship with another school it would have been their best bragging right: ‘We can’t have finals this week, out teachers are out saving the world.’

“Be nice getting away for a week though. So long as there aren’t any bears.” She could tell Logan and Miss Callasantos were still laughing at her over the bear incident a few months before and wasn’t ready for a repeat. They both thought she wasn’t “feral” enough to go after a bear like that, that her hesitation had been due to weakness. The truth was, she was too feral. She wasn’t just animal-like, the way they were; she was animal. She was a wolf. And wolves didn’t hunt bears. They just didn’t. Even as a pack, there was a wrongness to it that she just couldn’t get past. Bears were too big, and too strong, and too mean. You avoided them, you left them alone, and if necessary, you scared them off. But you never hunted them. They hunted you.

“I dinna think I could handle another bear.”


1) Everyone’s required to study French at school in Scotland.
2) Part of the National Curriculum.
3) I was studying it for my higher exam, before I came to the institute.

[Emma Frost]

[/url][/b] she wore upon stepping foot onto the plane. It was creativity at its best, really. At least Emma thought so as metal clunked under the heels of her shoes. The color, without much of a doubt, was white, and the look was completely intoxicating - constructed for a certain sex, of course. But more importantly, it made the woman feel good about herself in more ways than one, hence her holier-than-thou attitude.

And that same attitude was what had her nose high in the air, mouth emotionless, and stride oblivious to those around her. It also provided great leverage as she spotted those already onboard the aircraft. Boyscout. Gypsie. Feral. Female feral. Mini female feral. Emma clone. "This should prove interesting," Emma said aloud to herself with an exhaled sigh, a roll of her cold, blue eyes following afterward. Emma took in the environment around her. An eyebrow rose and a small smirk of her lips acknowledged an approval. Clearly the blonde bombshell had rubbed off on the headmaster of her school. The vessel was fully stocked with luxuries only a true queen would enjoy, but with Emma this was not necessarily a positive ordeal. What would make this flight complete? Getting rid of eight students and three members of staff was the obvious answer, leaving a billion dollar jet, bottles of champaigne, and only the sky as a witness.

But even as a billionaire it seemed Emma never truly got what she wanted without having to get her hands dirty. Upon further inspection, however, it also seemed that her assigned seat would be at the front of the plane next to Scott. Ironic, no? While Emma was not a pilot, despite the fact that she could siphon the knowledge directly from the skill base of Scott Summers, her position on the plane would definitely fit her double - sometimes triple - standards. Latching onto her Louis Vuitton handbag, blonde strands danced in front of Emma's face as she turned to face her, supposed, equal on this expedition. He was a cute one, she would give him that. Maybe a little too analytical at times, but what girl didn't like organization in a man. The blonde could think of a few red heads that admired it, both dead and alive, but she didn't care. What could a man give her that she didn't already have or couldn't obtain?

Money? No.

Power? No.

A penis? Man was foolish enough to create a device that made those organs void.

The blonde was truly satisfied with her early twenties - yes, early twenties - and she didn't need to worry about the world and its complexities. However, the children and those around her did, it seemed. They didn't have the pleasure of grinding the lap of luxury until he exploded in a fury of gifts, structures, and the higher living. Most were too young to even realize that the world around them had changed; the mutant epidemic was only the cherry on top of the preverbial Golden Opulence Sundae. Nevertheless, that was why even dared to consider the camping trip. To... how did one say... bond. It was an unfamiliar word, one not used within the Frost household, but a word nonetheless - no matter how worthless it was to the CEO of Frost International. Another reason Frost dared to consider the camping trip proposition was because she was the newly appointed headmistress of the school. It was a position she'd overtaken, but with great power came great responsibility. Emma had a feeling some old geezer said that once.

And here she was, hovering over her seat, inches from a man bound to ruby quartz glasses, and mere feet from a circus behind. Emma let off another developed sigh, the remaining good in her attempting to take in the fine structure of the plane, and her bag perched on the co-pilot seat's arm rest. "Scott, be a dear," the telepath said, and then tapped against her handbag. It was a motion for Scott to place her bag somewhere safe but out of the way. "But be careful. It's probably worth more than your... everything." A joke. A grin. Maybe Emma would enjoy this trip afterall.

"So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?" Wanda pondered.

And maybe Emma wouldn't enjoy the trip afterall.

"With Scout here," he jerked a thumb at Scott. "Expect a damn sign out sheet for taking a piss." Logan advised. "America's bigger, Wanda, a hell of a lot bigger than anyplace in Europe. Even as built up as everything is now - don't expect to walk out to someplace civilized if you get lost. And the weather where we're going gets cold at night, sometimes below freezing, any time of the year."

"Actually, Logan, Europe is much larger than America," Emma quipped, not bothering to turn around and face the party behind, "But we didn't expect you to know that, dear." And it was true. He could look it up, wikipedia it, or simply not give a damn, but Emma loved proving a point. She especially loved making those under her feel even more ignorant to their educational values than they already were. "Oh, and if any of you need to use the facilities, Mister Summers' sign up sheet is located at the front and rear of the cabin." There was nothing better than a well organized man. Another grin. She had a feeling a look would come from their captain - their boyscout - and he knew she was just toying with the situation. He would probably also know that she wasn't accustomed to outdoor living, but she would never exploit a flaw in her diamond hard skin. The blonde was tougher than nails and she would prove it. But first...

"Oh, Scott, cheer up, dear. Soon we will be at the mercy of an invisible force of nature. And, who knows? Maybe they'll all die and leave us alone for once." Emma grinned. "Wouldn't that be heaven?"
[/ul][/b]

[Julian Keller]

Bonding. It was the catch phrase on the sign-up sheet that Scott Summer had felt honorable enough to tack onto the school bulletin. Yes, there in all its glory did the decorative green piece of paper hang for all of the students wishing to attend to add their names. It was a rather dull excuse for advertising however...and certainly didn't attract any more eyes than the ones that rolled over its disparity. There were twenty lines altogether, and some soft space near the bottom for the late, but eager children to scratch their titles onto the waiting list. My, my, wasn't someone being the optimist? And, was the paper's green shade something of a theme? Julian couldn't help but to smirk at the thought. Yes, of course it was. Scott Summers would be the only one to think of such a thematic sketch. Perhaps he had even drawn the stick-outlined trees too. One question remained unanswered though. What the hell was Julian Keller thinking when he signed up for such a lallygag of an expedition?

Considering the names that he had observed on the dreadful list, the telekinetic couldn't remember why he thought this chance might be such a steal. Yes, Wanda Maximoff was in attendance and that would make for a good time. Julian couldn't help himself when it came to the two of them. Harmful flirting was an easy way to make the Scarlet Witch even more red at times and it tickled him so. Then there was his mentor and favorite faculty member turned headmistress, Emma Frost. Julian reveled in the White Queen's new position. What power she held before was now only emphasized throughout the mutant academy...community even. Julian, being a Darwinist at heart, knew well that her promotion only spoke better in his name. He was loyal to Emma, and in return was she toward him. What anyone else thought of their relationship meant very little to the psion's world. And then there was Laura Kinney, the female feral of sorts. Her world remained surround in mystery and doubt. No one quite knew where she came from, or what she was capable of. Many stayed away from her for those reasons too...except Julian that was. The two teenagers found intrigue in one another, if that made any sense. Julian and Laura had formed a rivalry in the months follow the Decimation, but it wasn't one of aggression and pride. No. Instead, the two were overly zealous to watch each other improve and grow in any area of their lives. Always at competition were they, but a smirk graced their mouths nonetheless.

After this though the list seemed to trail in a direction of nameless horrors. More ferals and the like. Was the call of the wild what drove all of them to sign up? Julian couldn't imagine what the forest would be like with all of them climbing the trees and marking their territory. So help any feral that lifted their leg near any of Julian's possessions. One would only find themselves thirty-five thousand feet and soaring before they realized that mistake. Julian only hoped Candra Von Hamilton would escape the animistic urges too. It would be ashame to see such a classy gem turn gray because of the fur-ridden mutants.

As one of the last campers to board the jet, Julian caught wind of everyones conversation. Wanda, of course, was going on in a ramble over the experience awaiting her. The Gypsy turned X-Man couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by all the traditions she would be encountering. Passing by her casually, Julian offered his own services. "Let me know when you want to get lost on a hike, Miss Maximoff."[/color] He winked.

Finding his assigned place next to Laura, Julian only smiled as he put his bag in the overhead compartment and occupied the empty seat. Laura seemed about as pleased as he was to be a part of this assembly. She wasn't a social butterfly in any regard, but Julian wondered if her name didn't only appear on the list because of his own. The thought was selfish, but then again, so was Julian. "Its your lucky day, sunshine. Misery must love company."[/color] His confident voice stated in a soft tone. "I'd give it at least three hours after landing before we can disappear and start training. And...for the record...that was a challenge just to let you know. I bet your a tiger out there in all those woods."[/color]

Before she could respond to his comments, Julian heard the voice of his headmistress coming from the cockpit in front. She sounded thrilled only to be next Scott and nothing more after that. "Oh, Scott, cheer up, dear. Soon we will be at the mercy of an invisible force of nature. And, who knows? Maybe they'll all die and leave us alone for once." Emma grinned. "Wouldn't that be heaven?"

Julian cringed modestly. Emma sured had an odd taste for men. He would never quite understand what the White Queen found so alluring in the eager boyscout.

Reaching out telepathically to Emma, Julian made his own silent statement to her. ~It'll be a hot day in heaven, Miss Frost, before I die in the woods with all of these ferals. If you truly find yourself wanting...quality time with Mr. Summers just please book me a first class seat back toward the mansion. The call of the wild isn't one I'm so eager to answer.~[/i][/color] He snubbed, knowing all too well that his adviser would find the cynical humor in his thoughts.

[Scott Summers]

Campsite and Trails.

"Scott, be a dear," the telepath said, and then tapped against her handbag. It was a motion for Scott to place her bag somewhere safe but out of the way. "But be careful. It's probably worth more than your... everything."

"In that case, I'm surprised you'd trust me with something so valuable." He extended his index finger and let the purse slide off his arm and back into her hands. The direction his finger pointed indicated a compartment next to her seat. He'd chosen this jet for the simple fact that when he'd heard she was coming he wanted her to be comfortable. Not that he held much hope that it would keep her complaining at a minimum for the entire trip but the beginning at least might end up being something akin to restful. Or at least quiet. He couldn't help but notice her choice of attire, he was beginning to wonder if she owned anything else. Didn't she know that seeing her in a man's shirt tied about the waist and a pair of jeans could be just as alluring. He looked back at Wanda in the baseball cap and knew that she was aware of that simple fact.

"So as someone who has never been out of the city in America is there any advice I must have? Any camping tips?"

Logan snorted. "With Scout here," he jerked a thumb at Scott. "Expect a damn sign out sheet for taking a piss."

Scott was about to answer, offer a few tips to make the trip more enjoyable for her when Logan chimed in. He lifted his eyes and surveyed the runway before them, his only response the clinching of his jaw. He hadn't really wanted the Feral to come along on the trip but he couldn't deny that if they did get into trouble that the man, no matter how hard to take, would be of use. Summers looked over at Emma as she joined him at the front of the plane. He made no attempt to shield his thoughts, she would know how much he wanted to say to Logan, even if he couldn't bring himself to say any of it here. It wouldn't be right in front of the students.

"Oh, and if any of you need to use the facilities, Mister Summers' sign up sheet is located at the front and rear of the cabin."

Summers relaxed, not really smiling but enjoying the return volley on his behalf. It wouldn't be bad but she'd only just nixed the idea of using them this morning. He still thought they were a good idea. He didn't want John joining the mile high club with any of the young women under his protection. If he had his way there would be no fires lit on this trip by some wannabe Bad Boy Lizard King. Say what you will about the kid, but Scott couldn't help but think that Pyro as he liked to call himself, was only biding his time. He might never have gone through any of what he went through with Jean if they hadn't stalled their departure looking for him at the Weapon X Base.

“Yo, Slim. Where’s the chick with the peanuts? And will Logan and I be able to eat any of the buffalo? I feel like some red meat for dinner tonight.”

He almost groaned, only his controlled nature keeping it from being audible. He sighed and answered her question, a slight curling of his lips that perhaps wouldn't translate past the first row, "You have to ask which woman here has the biggest balls?" Even so, he had anticipated the desire for such a request. He reached into the compartment next to him and took hold of two bags. One a family sized bag of peanuts and the other pretzels. Summers tossed them over his shoulder to Logan, he wasn't a complete ass, "Logan has the snacks. He also has the key to the washroom, if anyone needs it."

"Oh, Scott, cheer up, dear. Soon we will be at the mercy of an invisible force of nature. And, who knows? Maybe they'll all die and leave us alone for once." Emma grinned. "Wouldn't that be heaven?"

Scott's eyes shifted to take in her expression his own brightening slightly and with a trace of desire. He didn't transmit his thoughts, knowing he didn't really need to, Be careful what you wish for, Emma. The remainder of the flight was much the same. Logan would find the peace offering of a single beer, just as everyone else would find their own favorite beverage beside them. No alcohol for the kids of course but for Scott trips like these were likely as close as the boyscout might come to a family vacation. He wanted to enjoy it.

Later...in South Dakota.

The Jet landed smoothly on the remote airstrip. There was a small airport adjoining it of course with its own tower but nothing here spoke of civilization or technology. If anything, the buildings did their best to blend into the landscape surrounding them. Once they were cleared bvy the tower, Cyclops taxied up to the small caravan of vehicles that would take the party beyond the airport (center right on the map near the french creek trailhead letter G) to the waiting contingent of pack horses, mules and tamed mustangs that would serve as the groups sole transportation. Unless of course they felt compelled to walk or hike.

Turning to Emma first and then the others, Scott smiled knowing what was waiting for the others. He personally was looking forward to this week. They would spend the rest of the day and the next along the French Creek to help them all get accustomed to the altitude. From there they would travel from Blue Bell up to Badger Hole and Legion Lake. More travel would take them to the Legion Lake area and the Devil's Spires. From this point on they would drive to the Jet and finish the trip with a visit to Mount Rushmore before flying home.

[Melody Guthrie]

A trip away from the mansion was exactly what the doctor had ordered for the youngest of the Guthrie clan. Shutting herself away a bit following the outbreak of the Chimera Virus, the young girl was just now finally coming out into her own again. There had been few she’d been close to in the last six months, even her own sister hadn’t understood her, not fully. Paige being the overprotective sister that she was, Melody hadn’t been able to be completely honest with her.

Looking up from her spot towards the back of the plane, she saw the unmistakable profile of one Julian Keller. The flier and the Psi had grown dramatically close following their Danger Room encounter. There was a spark there, an instant chemistry that was simply undeniable. The two spent countless nights together, talked and…not talking. This camping trip would be create a wonderful opportunity for some alone time for the two. At the Institute, what with roommates and her siblings all around, finding time to be together had been difficult. The feelings Melody had for the handsome boy were growing rapidly and uncontrollably. Hence why, at this moment, she was a bit confused as to why he was seated next to Laura Kinney. Looking down at her own paperwork for the trip, she saw that next to her name in bold black lettering was a seat number. Assigned seats, of course. With Headmaster Summers at the helm of this expedition, she should have immediately guessed. Raising her gaze to the two young mutants ahead, her thoughts wondered.

She had noticed in recent months that even as she and Julian grew close, he also grew extremely close with the mutant known by some as Talon. The brunette wouldn’t say she was jealous, but a girl of Laura’s abilities and intelligence was certainly enough to intimidate the older girl. While the aerokinetic was sure there was nothing going on in a romantic sense between the two, she couldn’t help but be envious of the girl. Melody…well, she just flew. That’s it. No fancy claws or lazers, no telekinetic or telepathic abilities; for all intents and purposes, the hazel-eyed beauty was a boring mutant. Laura on the other hand…the girl was immensely gifted with incredible room for growth. Same with Julian, the two held such great potential that it was easy to see why the teammates had bonded. It was pleasing to see the Junior-X squads working cohesively, at least the majority of the members.

Locating her own seat a few rows behind Julian and Laura, she saw her travel companion was none other than John Allerdyce. Unfortunately for the young man, few at the Institute saw it necessary to give him another chance, to let him in, but not Melody. With the constant changing of the world and unexpectedness of events, everyone deserved to have a second chance. When she had first seen John in the mansion, she been drawn to him. To his brooding good looks, to his cocky demeanor…he was the definition of the storybook bad-boy. In all honesty, it was a bit of a turn-on for the gorgeous young woman. She supposed she was always attracted to that type though, Hellion himself could be incredibly arrogant, but in a way that Mel saw it as sexy. Pyro had that same quality about him, and unfortunately, he didn’t have any teachers on his side like Julian did.

As she saw John fiddling with his hands, she knew immediately what he was doing. From all of the conversations they’d had, the Kentucky raised girl knew that he was looking for his lighter, the one thing that could ignite his fire both within and outwardly. It pained her to see him looking broken as he did. It were as if a piece of him were missing, and he needed someone to repair him. She supposed that it made sense for the two of them to have grown close…actually, she saw that it hadn’t made sense at all. The two young mutants were completely different, but when he was alone with her, Melody felt as if John’s true self came out. As if his devil may care attitude was a façade and underneath, he was truly just like everyone else at the Institute, perhaps just a bit more badass. Had Julian not been in the picture, the flier definitely would have pursued something with Pyro. The two just sparked, much like she did with the Psi. She supposed it was odd that she clicked so well with more than one boy, but Melody was certainly no cheater and she was not about to start.

The playful, flirtatious banter the pyrokinetic and aerokinetic shared had helped in bringing Melody out of her shell. There had been so little she could do when the virus struck, he abilities weren’t strong enough to go out into the field, and as much as she tried to help in the labs and discover a cure, she’d simply felt like a failure. Eventually, the X-Men prevailed, but the hazel-eyed one had simply felt helpless. She was a failure, and had it not been for John, Julian, and Miss. Maximoff, she’d probably still feel that way.

Speaking of Miss. Maximoff, she saw her talking with Rahne. Melody wasn’t certain of the reason, but she had consistently felt icy around the feral. The flier hadn’t thought she’d offended the girl in any way, but the reaction she received from her had never been anything remotely close to happiness, so she stayed away. She certainly admired Miss. Maximoff for trying to make each student feel important and understood, and without her own mother around, Melody felt as though Wanda was the closest thing to a maternal figure one could ask for at Xavier’s. She’s become her mentor and a close confidant, for which the younger of the two was extremely grateful.

Remembering that she should be taking her seat, she located her aisle and placed herself in the chair beside John’s. He appeared to be lost in thought, and it was no surprise with those he was surrounded by. None of these people particularly cared for him, but the feeling was mutual, that much she was certain of. Leaning in towards him, she raised her fingers and snapped them before his face, whispering softly in her husky tone, “Anyone home?”

[Maria Callasantos]

As Maria leaned against the back of her chair and waited for Scott to grace her with an answer, Maria noting the tension in his back building, this reaction causing her to smile, Maria couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on to the back between Wanda and Rahne, Maria oversensitive ears catching her reply to Wanda’s query.

“Be nice getting away for a week though. So long as there aren’t any bears. I dinna think I could handle another bear.”

Maria turned in her chair to give the young wolf girl a toothy smile, her amber eyes sparkling. “You say that because you didn’t try it. Tasted good. Would have tasted better if it had some mustard. I’ll make sure the next one has some.” Maria teased lightly, before returning her gaze to Scott’s head, watching him toss the food bags towards Logan, Maria deftly reaching up and snagging one before Logan could catch it, Maria sticking her tongue out at him in mock challenge.

Wolfsbane was a mystery to the older female feral. The girl was different from her and Logan. Maria embraced her feral side, her animal side. So did Logan. Rahne on the other hand… was different. Although she in her own way was more ‘animal’ then she was, Maria got the feeling that Rahne didn’t feel as at home with her wild side and she and Logan did. She was too human, to civilized. Maria wondered what would happen to the girl she were ever left to fend for herself out in the woods. Would she adapt, or break down? Maria hoped they didn’t find out on this trip. This camping trip’s purpose was to relax, not soul search. If Rahne wanted to embrace her human side, well, that was her problem. Maria only prayed that it didn’t get her killed… or drive her insane…

Shaking her head as she opened the pretzel bag she had grabbed, Maria settled back down into her seat and glanced around at the others, periodically popping a pretzel into her fanged maw and munching, her eyes settling on one particular occupant, Maria feeling her eyes harden when she once again caught sight at the attire this one person decided to wear on a camping trip. Emma was a lot of things. Knowledgeable of what to wear out in the woods, she was not. Maria eyed the woman’s choice of white spandex with amused diversion. Oh, Emma was going to regret that clothing choice. In spades. Nothing made you want to cover up more then the feel of mosquitoes and ticks crawling against your flesh. Made Maria almost want to hide the Off spray can. Almost.

“If any of you need to use the facilities, Mister Summers’ sign up sheet is located at the front and rear of the cabin.”

Okay. That hiding the Off can idea was starting to look good now. Maria could hold back on the roll of eyes Emma’s crude attempt at humor bought her, Maria saying nothing and simply turned to look out the window, swiftly getting bored with the plane ride, Maria anxiously tapping at the arm rest, her eyes darting to the side just in time to catch the look Emma and Scott shared, Maria feeling her face darken slightly.

“Oh, Scott, cheer up, dear. Soon we will be at the mercy of an invisible force of nature. And, who knows? Maybe they’ll all die and leave us alone for once. Wouldn’t that be heaven?”

That did it. No Off for Emma. Maria struggled to not let her aggravation show. She knew that Emma didn’t mean anything personal by it, but still, it was cruel of her to say such things. Plus the way she kept looking at Scott annoyed the hell out of her. Every time Maria saw one of those looks Maria wanted to claw something. She didn't exactly understand why. But it wasn't her business anyway.

Eventually the landed. Grabbing her knapsack and sleeping bag, Maria got to her feet and followed everyone out of the jet, Maria feeling her eyes widen at the sight that waited for them. Namely the horses. What? Horses? No 4x4’s? Aww shucks. Oh well. At least she wouldn’t have to go far for something to eat.