Xaviers!

Em grabbed a tray and made her way through the line without dawdling. Lunch for her was a can of sparkling clementine juice, a slice of shepherd's pie, and a cucumber salad. She found herself an empty spot and sat down to eat, unceremoniously tossing her new tablet on the table next to here to leech off the free wifi around campus now that she didn't have to go to the library to do all her universe research she was so fond of doing.

She couldn't afford to have another near slip up like she'd done with Trev.

((Open to multiple participants, come on in.))

Looking for an empty spot, Carlos sat down nearby, nodding at the other student at the table.

"Working lunch?"

"Nah,not today." She stated, smiling at the boy. She tilted her head slightly, trying to remember his name based off his student ID.

"Carlos,yea?"

"I'm flattered you remembered me," Carlos grinned.

"I try to remember all the customers. That's good sales tactics right?" She joked.

"And you have such robust competition, as well!"

"Well ya kno what they say, never trust a skinny chef. At least ya kno the food's good,right?" She joked back.

"It's better than some of the stuff I've had to eat, so I'll take it."

"Me too.

Despite what hobos will tell you, rancid day old sausages don't taste better with yesterday's hollandaise on them." She laughed.

"I'm Emilie, in case yer not into inspecting embroidered polyester shirts."

"A pleasure to meet you in a non-food-giving situation."

"You as well.

What's yer thing man?" She asked, since it was 'the question'.

"I don't particularly have one. I'm just your regular, run-of-the-mill champion martial artist."

"What, like a ninja?" Emilie knew very little on this subject.

"Not precisely. I used to do competitive tournaments. Judo, and the like."

"Neat. Ever break anybody's skull?"

"That's not exactly the intention," Carlos said, noticeably not answering.

Picking up on his uncomfortable vibe, Emilie changed the subject entirely.

"So when you don't live in a swamp on Dagobah, what do you do for fun Carlos?"

"A...swamp? I'm not quite sure what you're getting at, beyond the reference."

"Jedis dude? You're like, Master Yoda or something, right? Only not old as shit."

"Me, a master?" Carlos laughed. "No, no, I'm not nearly to the point where I'm going to start training people. That's what you do when you're old and washed up."

Emilie smirked, but Carlos would have no idea why, nor does she explain it.

"So no Mickey days for you for awhile then, pup?"

Carlos looked a little lost.

"Mickey d....I'm sorry, this isn't my first language.

But no, I'm not to the point where I'd be opening up a school, per se."

"It's alright. People who speak English as a primary barely understand me." She grinned like that was some badge of honor.

"So you're on teams then?" She guessed.

"Yes. I'm actually one of the team leaders, if you can believe that."

"I can." She stated, still smiling. Team leaders are always a bit too cocky.

"Do you like being team leader? Seems like a lot of responsibility to me."

"I do not shy away from responsibility," Carlos smiled. "It is hard at times, but it is rewarding."

"Would you consider doing it professionally? Like, in the big leagues?"

"I'm not sure yet. I was sort of derailed over here, and haven't gotten my bearings back yet."

"By what? If you don't mind me askin' that is. You don't gotta answer that if it's too personal."

"I was on my way, you know? Win a bunch of championships, get my name out there, rise to the top of my sport, and then retire and train the next generation. That was the path that was laid out for me...

...And then they claimed I had an X-gene, that I was a mutant, and it all had to go. Disqualified, kicked out, forgotten."

"And do you?" Emilie asked in return. It seemed like a pertinent question considering he was here now with the rest of them.

"I can't dispute the science, can I?" he laughed, cheerlessly.

Emilie made that sad smile she made when Victor asked her a question with a tough answer.

"It wasn't right of them to strip you of your titles. It doesn't matter if you have the X-gene, you still earned your rewards.

But unfortunately, competition is like that. Petty.

All you can do is overlook their petty garbage and be a better person than they are.

Or as we say in English, "Fuck them haters'. "

"It'd be easier if the hadn't decided to make me persona-non-grata."

"I assume this was the US then?"

"Not at all. I won titles across Europe; in Bratslavia and Warsaw. I've traveled around Europe, placing highly in all sorts of competitions. I was in the far east training as a young boy. I've been around a bit."

Emilie then frowned, something she tended not to often do.

"The sentiment around these parts don't seem that much better than there, sometimes."

What her frown was really about, was she was wondering exactly how bad it had gotten in the US if, as she had been given the indication, the college was in the UK to avoid the legal drama and persecution.

She shook it off with a literal shake of her head.

"But in the long run it doesn't matter. People who don't think you are worth anything to them, aren't worth anything to you.

The simple fact of the matter is they can try to deface you all they want. You're still you. You still won all that stuff, and you still have your talents, no matter their source. They can't take away who you are unless you let them."

"Yeah, but 'disgraced former champion, open parenthesis banned for cheating closed parenthesis' doesn't exactly look good on a resume."

"In this world it doesn't seem like mutant does either." Back to the sad smile, which brightened slightly as she continued.

"But if you're as good as you say you are, then I think it's a good likelihood you'll always find a place for yourself despite all of that nonsense."

"I never asked for this, you know. I mean, I never had anything AGAINST mutants, but I'm proud that I accomplished what I did with just my natural skills."