Xaviers!

Victor thought about it for a moment. "She's a rocker, I'm a mod. I guess she thought she might rub you the wrong way."

"Kids," Lippincott said, shaking his head. "Digging little holes of their own making."

a few moments after the summoning text, Emilie entered the office as a vision of distressed blacks and hardware. She had her utility belt on with all the associated bric-a-brac, and her heart shaped lenses down over her eyes.

With the seemingly dyed hair and the facial piercings, this young woman was definitely the visual embodiment of a headmaster nightmare.

She reached into her side pocket, and pulled out said passport handing it in to Lippincott while blowing (and popping) her gum.

"And would you care to explain why this is the first time we're meeting, Miss Thursday?"

"Cuz by the choice verbiage on your campus wide email I figured you was the kinda dude who would look to flex his authority and not actually help me in any way. Victor thinks he's going to get me back onto campus. I think I should be packing my shit up before your associates bin everything.

So I guess the question comes down to: Are you that kinda dude?"

The headmaster clasped both hands on his desk, paused, looked over at Emile and didn't immediately answer her question.

"I would think attending a school for mutants would teach you a thing or two about judging people based on appearances. It is clear that the previous administration was slacking in their duties.

Can you explain why you were the one student not in the system after the handover?"

Victor would feel something pressing at his mind. If he opened up 'the party line', he'd hear his own voice speaking to him, but it wasn't something he ever remembered saying.

'You can't judge a book by it's cover kid... but the blurb on the back gives you a good indication.'

"Nope. When I was established at the school, the headmistress helped me sort out all the paperwork. It's especially unusual considering I'm *also* a member of the kitchen staff and have been receiving regular income for my work there since September."

"Again, this is the first I am hearing about any of this. We could have cleared much of this up this afternoon had you come to see me in person, rather than running things through an intermediary.

I want you to think long and hard about the judgments you've placed on other people over the course of today, and we'll try to move forward from there.

I've gone ahead and put you in room 130 for now. I am sorry that this took more time than it had to."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeep, I'll do that, new boss." Even Lippincott could tell she wouldn't be doing that, but it probably seemed like general, residual teenage angst. After all, he couldn't possibly know it was actually a case of 'too old for this'.... right?

"Unless you got something else you wanna tell me, I should go locate aforementioned shit."

"I'll look forward to seeing the reports from your power training class, Miss Thursday.

Unless there was anything else, you may leave."

Victor smiled up at Emilie. She knew how to get shit done. And his mental door was opening easier for her every time. When all was said and done he looked back at the headmaster.

"Well, I think I've learned a valuable lesson. If there's anything I need in the future I think I'd be better off sending Emilie here as my intermediary rather than vice versa."

"I think you'd be best off coming in yourself if you need help, Mr. Freud," the headmaster smiled. "As you can see, I don't bite."

"True, but she's much more efficient than I am."

Victor stood up out of his seat and straightened his tie. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lippincott. I may take you up on that in the near future."

"Anything you need, Mr. Freud. We're here to help," he said, reaching out to shake his hand.

Victor wiped his hand on the inside of his pocket before taking the man's hand. There weren't any games, no attempt to squeeze too tight or weird finger tricks on his part, just an honest - if clinical - handshake.

"Now if you'll excuse us, we have some moving to do." He turned and headed for the door and Emilie.

Lippincott waited until the door was shut.

He then waited an extra minute.

"No, I don't bite at all. That's what I have people for."

Then he pressed a button on his desk. "Ghost, I need to see you at your earliest convenience."

A little while later Morgan Mathers, aka Ghost, arrives. Or rather, the first thing to arrive is her constant companion. Black wisps of pitch-black and questionable consistency bubbles out from underneath the door. The cloud of Darkforce floats up before assembling itself into a quadruped shape of indetermined basis, bulking forearms more akin to those of a gorilla but trailing off into a more canine or feline shape towards it's hind-quarters. The only details to it's 'head' is the mouth that hangs slightly open, trails of darkforce connecting upper and lower jaw before snapping and remaining as something resembling teeth.

Following the needlessly dramatic entrance Ghost opens the door and walks in, wearing an open vest over a plain white t-shirt that almost blends in with their completely white skin. Morgan's gender is not immediately obvious and the lack of pigmentation seems to extend through their entire body, from hair to eyes to almost translucent fingernails.

"You called?" they ask, almost sounding bored.

"We have another name to add to your portfolio -- an Emile Thursday. She wasn't in the initial files, but a first pass has checked out.

She's a snotty one, for sure. Sent in a boy to do her work for her. Assumed we were here to kick her out, of all things.

Doesn't necessarily mean anything, but she's a variable. I'm not a huge fan of variables. You'll keep an eye on her, won't you?"

"As many as you need me to." they nod and the Darkforce monster's 'skin' splits in numerous places and peeling back to reveal obsidian eyes darting back and forth.

"And how are the rest of the variables doing? Everyone settling in alright?"

"Some grouching here and there. Mostly from having to move their things around."

"I suppose that was inevitable. But necessary, in the end."

Ghost nods and the Darkforce construct seems to stand a little straighter.

"I'll have the full report for you by the end of the week. If there's any problems I will find them."

"I know you will, Ghost. I know you will.

Do remember that Phase One is much easier as the student body relaxes and learns we're not here to make heads roll. But we are here to enforce the rules. And you know your part in all that, yes? I can count on you."

"Of course, sir. Will that be all?"

"For now. Good hunting, Ghost."