the wolf and the storm (storm, open)

[Night Wolf]

Night Wolf had been walking around at Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning early in the morning. He wasn't too pleased with how bright everything was, but it didn't truly matter since it wasn't like he needed to worry about using his shadow manipulation powers with what he was doing today. He had been asked to join the Xmen by that four armed cat vampire lady a few weeks ago and he had finally figured that it wouldn't hurt to try and see what it was like. He was told he was going to speak with one of the older members of the Xmen and be shown around and what to do. He had been to the place several times before, but he had never interacted much with the Xmen. He wasn't sure what they expected of him, or if he even was going to be asked to do anything. He had stubbled into the foyer again and looked at all of the things in the room. Nothing had changed since he had last been here.

After a short time of waiting since he had started to walk around after being in the infirmary after the FoH rally so early, he smelt and heard someone coming up behind him. He was still hurting and was still in a large amount of pain, but he was glad his cuts had been treated so they weren't bleeding anymore. That would have made things harder for him when he talked with this person. He turned to see who it was that had approached him.

[storm]

The distant click-clacking of heels echoed through the marble hallway. Each stilettoed step was poised, to be sure; however, a careful listener would detect a slight uncertainty in the woman's step. Her strides were slightly uneven - first a click, then two successive ones, then a quick step. It was evident that the owner of the heels had something troubling on her mind.

The faded rays of early morning filtered in through the blinds of the windows, peppering the wall with a striped array of shadow-slits. The weather today was sunny, but the air carried a stubborn chill usually reserved for dark winter dawns. One could see the smoky cloud of their breath on this unusual day. The sudden cold had ushered the woodland animals straight into their snug burrows. The students, bundled up in scarves and coats, were used to this kind of sudden weather change. They knew that a certain headmistress's emotional turbulence could cover the sun and beckon thunder.

That headmistress was the one walking down the hallway. She was wearing a simple white dress, its skirt trailing behind her like a wisp of dust. Its silk, transparent sheen glittered in the sunlight. Ororo Munroe strode down the hallway, and suddenly she stop -



-ped in her tracks. There in front of her was a tattered, beaten mutant. His skin was littered with bruises and scars.

"W-what are you doing here?"

[Night Wolf]

Night Wolf looked at the woman who had walked up behind him. She seemed distracted and he got a feeling she was fairly powerful. His instincts on figuring out other mutant's power levels was refined, although it had gotten rusty since he had escaped that place, but he could tell she was. He could also tell she wasn't dangerous. That part of his instinct had remained refined though over the recent years. He looked at her for a moment after she had asked him what he was doing here.

" I was taking a walk around the place. I woke up in the infirmary and figured it wouldn't hurt to move around some. I'm not injured enough to be in there anyways. I just have some cuts, a broken rib or two, and some small fractures in my right arm's bones." Night said to her in a calm voice. " I'm also suppose to talk to someone about joining these x-men I have heard so much about. I was told to speak to one of their members who have been with them the longest. Wasn't told a name though or a description."

Night was sure she would just move on her way after what he had said, she seemed busy. He didn't think about it, but the injuries he just mentioned would normally be good reason for someone to be in the infirmary. His unusual upbringing of constantly having injures made him forget how bad a broken and fractured bones could be. He was also not moving as well as he normally would, although no one would notice unless they had paid attention to how he normally was.

[storm]

Fighting off the initial sensation of shock, she rose her gaze to meet that of Night’s. He was a well-muscled man, in shape and definitely accustomed to fighting. That latter bit was evident not only from his build, but from the many bandages hanging limply from his arms, torso and legs. Listening to his tale, she cleared her throat slightly and looked down. A surge of hopelessness melted her senses. How could the once-mighty X-Men's very existence be in such jeopardy?

Professor Xavier might have been ill, or momentarily unfit, but he had never truly been absent from the grounds for an extended period of time like he was now: going as far as the barrier of Antarctica to find the precious minerals that would repair Cerebro. Leaving Ororo as interim headmistress was a huge honor, to be sure; but it was also a heavy burden measured squarely onto her shoulders. These were shoulders that were worshipped as a queen’s when she led her African tribe. Shoulders that could cleanse villages and coax rain from the clouds. She had begged, no, pleaded with the Professor to let her accompany him on the trip. He had decided on several of the original X-Men already, but insisted that Ororo stay. He had taken her aside, and giving her the grandfatherly look that he was so known for, thought to her: I need you here, Ororo. I need you here to protect the students. The students are the future. They must continue as if nothing has happened.

Then…why was this so difficult? Already her elegant body bore a streak of uncertainty – her thin white dress hung frailly from her frame. Little dark bags slouched underneath her eyes. Leading a group of wide-eyed natives was one thing; leading a group of social outcasts against the whole of the free world was quite another. Ororo shuddered free from her thoughts and looked carefully into the eyes of Night, mustering up some of her characteristic steeliness.

“Ah, yes…they told me about you. You were involved at the candidate’s speech…had a run-in with Sabretooth, I hear,” she mused, looking at the tell-tale claw wounds covering Night’s body.

”My name is Ororo, the interim headmistress here. Those a part of the force often call me Storm. You may or may not find out why soon enough.”

“So you want to join the X-Men. It’s not a feat easily gained…one has to earn their spot on the team with years of rigor and discipline. I can’t remember the last time we took in a non-student with no training…”

She was lying. She very distinctly remembered the last person who had done so. A certain someone who she was, or had been, very close to. A certain Wolverine.

“But since a large chunk of our regular team is going to be away for quite a bit, we may have to move around some rules. Tell me, what are your reasons for wanting to be a part of this force?” Her eyes danced with curiosity, wondering what the patient had to say.

[Night Wolf]

Night Wolf looked at the woman. She was acting like he had to earn his spot when he had been asked to join. He wouldn't have minded showing her what he could do, but the air she had around her was very high and mighty. Certainly she might have been, but he didn't know what her powers might be or how powerful they were. She wanted to know why he wanted to join? Fine he was going to tell her.

" I wish to join since I was asked to. I was told a bit about you, but I can't say I know much or truly know any of your xmen. I have been to this place several times and I know some of your students. I don't feel any particular need to protect humans and I don't see why mutants should be considered better then humans. All I care about is that things don't turn hostile and for all out fighting to break out. The last thing this world needs is a state were every day you have to kill to survive. I thought you might be a good place for me to try and see that happen." Night said to her in a calm voice that told her he wasn't planning on bowing down to her intimidation.

[storm]

Ororo straightened up noticeably, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. Endless nights of coffee and logistics had left her body begging for a few hours of sweet repose. But frankly, there was no way she could rest, even for a second. She had to become the Storm that Professor Xavier entrusted with the well-being of the school, not the Storm that brooded alone throughout her first few months at the Institute. Met with this realization, she gathered herself together carefully examined Night’s composure as he spoke. Was he genuine? He carried himself with an air of levelheaded defiance – a state that took Ororo several months at the Institute to achieve. He was mature. A rare trait for a mutant on his own.

Rain started pelting the window right outside of them. Thick, fat globules of water splashed violently against the glass as an agitated rainstorm began to brew outside. Dark clouds converged ruinously above the grounds. The last schoolchildren sought shelter underneath their textbooks as they scampered frantically to the majestic oak double-doors of the Institute. The weather always drew from Ororo’s state of mind: in this case, the fierce rainstorm was a much-needed catharsis for her days of fret and frustration.

She looked him up and down. ”Well, you did survive a bout with Sabretooth. A feat that not many have ever achieved, mutant or otherwise.

“And you did come recommended by people that I have the deepest trust in.”

Ororo caught herself before she said anything further. Years of mental therapy with the Professor himself had taught her to carefully reexamine any important decision, no matter how obvious it seemed. In this case it wasn’t so obvious. Taking a new X-Men off the cuff, with no time at the Institute was traditionally not only impulsive, but downright dangerous. Sure, this man had gained the respect of some at the Institute, but how much did they truly know about him? Something about him seemed almost…animal. A flicker of remembrance shot across her face. The last time a wild, untamed firebrand had ended up on their doorstep…

“Be at the compound downstairs tomorrow night at nine on the dot. Ask around if you don’t know where that is. I’m not going to promise anything, but if you prove yourself trustworthy on the first mission then we’ll see if we have a place for you on the team.”

Her mouth was a grim slit of seriousness as she searched his gaze one last time before she turned on her heel and walked away. Her white heels again click-clacked down the hallway.

“Don’t make me regret this.”