Halloween is Coming

October 25, 2017:

Amora the Enchantress is 'visiting' Xavier's in disguise. Hearing about Halloween, she volunteers to help organizing a party. Surely nothing bad will come from this plan.

Xavier's School Backyard

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

So, the Genosha War is over. But Nate is still lingering in the school instead of back to his living in Mutant Town and visiting only at irregular intervals. He has not been feeling himself lately. In his defense, getting killed usually changes people quite a bit.
Also, his powers have been fairly unreliable. He is getting better (maybe) but only slowly. But the truth is a couple C-list super-villains almost beat him up, if Lorna had not been there he would be in the medlab right now.

Instead he is taking a walk outside, taking advantage of the last few sunny days of the year. Usually he can find Laura here in the backyard and they have been having real conversations lately. Not just he talking and she staring into the distance. But today she is not there.


Sunlight not far off from going down now. It's chilly outside enough so jackets are a requirement for those not protected from the elements.

Scott Summers in a black leather jacket, jeans, typical ruby quartz shades and a dull yellow scarf is walking quietly out to the patio overlooking the backyard. "Up and moving?" He inquires of Nate before the young man. Its been a weary recovery after Genosha and a lot is still transpiring but its not an immediate threat or ordeal that has them wrapped up. No right now is X-Men R&R times.


'Helen' has been briefly seen around the grounds. If not driven off in the darkened Cadillac limosine by a burly and oversized escort and driver, she is simply wandering, or seen with two other women who also are in and outin the presence of the hulking 'driver' to take them out into New York.

The youths of Xavier's that have ecountered her giggle when they speak of the woman, or just stare and shrug, unsure…

But even in the dropping temparature's of Westchester's climate, Helen is out in the yard, seated in a high waited pant-suit topped in a white bluse that is left open from the neck into a deep 'v', not concealing the inkwork that colors her pale skin of Nordic descent in designs unlike her accent. Pale blonde hair is bunned up messily to fall around her accented features, ones focused on the folder of papers propped upon upper leg, crossed atop the lower, and from behind lenses of glasses pale hazel green eyes peer at those at play, and those milling into the yard. Youth at play in the final days this ball in basket can be played.
Baskets-Ball?

One is over-thrown and bounces free of the court her way, a threat to the order of papers in her lap, or her head, buta palm rises, slapping itto the ground to rest beneath lofted toe risen in stiletto that now pins the ball to the ground at her foot.
A click and thepen is retracted, folder closed. Slowly, meticulous. Regal.

"C'mon laddeeee!"
"Ball?!"
"Give it back!"

A hand palms the ball and lifts it… But Nate and Scott incoming are spotted, a single toss upward has her spking it there way like a volleyball instead of the ball it is. "I vote for Reds." VS. Blue? A slow clap following.


Nate hrms non-committaly at Scott’s question. That he had not even realized the older man was there shows how out of character he is right now. Usually he is always at near hyper-vigilance mode except in the most familiar settings.

“I suppose so, soon,” he replies after thinking a few seconds. “Just, y’know…” he makes a vague, tired gesture. No, not ready to talk about it yet. Change subject, quickly! “Hey, who is the blonde? I had not seen her before.”


Scott can understand a lack in people wanting to discuss something like… apparent death. Eventually they will have to talk though. To someone and with his connection or lack of with Nate he knows he may not be the one to be there for that. A flex of one gloved hand and Scott watches the ball bounce before his eyes travel to Helen Eve, those red lenses hiding the curious look. "I haven't honestly met her yet. I think shes one of Larrsons guest listed. Out of towner so staying here until accomodations off school grounds are situated."

A lift of his chin and Scott offers a nod of greeting to the woman from afar.


Helen caught the looks of the two more 'grown' occupants, but only from periphery before she had tossed the ball back to the youths casually, instead of how she wanted to 'knee jerk' the reaction. How dare thay?!? …

A deep breath and she is folding her 'work' up and putting it back within a leather folding case bearing a strap to carry over her shoulder. No tension in her movements, she zips the case-closed and rises, a slow motion in her peer over the rim of her glasses now to meet their gazes dead on while they inquire after their own moment of a recent drawback.

Pushing the glasses up as she rises, her approach towards them is casual while the strap settles into the dip between shoulder and bared crest of neck. Stilletto carriage is all that is heard over the path before she pauses at the patio entry, a rise of hand and fingers curl in a wave. Manicured, painted a dark green hue, like the bottom of a mossy pond in the heat of summer, fingers decorated in midi rings as well as the norm, silver and gold, one slave-chained to the bracer upon her right wrist where cuffed white sleeves had been rolled away.

"I have not met either of you yet, I am Helen." The Nordic accent heavy in her words as she steps forward and extends that hand in offering of greeting.


“Mattias, hmm? Maybe a sister?” Nate goes quiet when Helen comes closer, studying her face briefly and trying to find some family resemblance. Nope. Not a sister. “Hello. I am Nathaniel. Nate. He is Scott Summers, he is one of the teachers.” Nate is not explaining what he does in the grounds, though. Too old to be a student. And he has some unusual scars at the left upper side of his face. “Are you related to Matt?” He asks directly.


"Possible."

Scott steps forward to offer his gloved hand to the foreign woman, "Helen… and thank you Nate, for the introduction." A tip of his head and he observes the mutant for a moment before offering a quick smile to Miss Eve. "At times a teacher. I am an aid to staff more often than not and I oversee a lot of the extra curicular activities around the school. The fun stuff."


The ink that rose upon her neck only peers out around the opened top of blouse from the shoulders where a 'sleeve' formation is evident in the thin stretch of fabric in the extension of her hand.

Nate's question and watch does not waver the smile upon lips as her hand redirects towards Scott then since he accepted. Her shake is gentle, but mechanical, an observed gesture that she takes into 'norm' and when she withdrawsher hand sweeps over the case at her hip and rests over the surface.

"Scott, Nate." But relation only cracks a deeper, more shadowed grin on Helen's face in regards to relation to Mattias, the laugh one that starts as a tension along throat and shakes her shoulders with a slow shake of her head. "No. He and his family are ones I am…" A pause as her hand waves a bit to find the right word. Like she could grasp it from the air. "Representing in matters of law." Rule.

A look now back to Cyclops, the gaze reflected on red lenses now as abrow lifts only slightly. "Fun stuff? Like the Basketb/o/l?" Like futbol in annunciation, what those overseas call Soccer, here. "They need practice."

A gesture to the two teams of youths on the court. "I cannot speak for your staff, the hospitality has been well, though the coffee could use strength, I cannot taste it." And there she goes, a pause and the Amora in her started to peer forth in lavishness, but a draw upon lower lip and she stops herself.

Silver spoons do not a mutant make? Something.


Matters of law? Oh no, a lawyer?

Helen does not look like any lawyer Nate has met before, but she must be from Norway, or is it Sweden? Can’t remember right now where Matt is from. Which is okay, most lawyers are and look shifty. At least Helen does… hmm, not quite. Maybe. Although she just insulted their coffee, or something.

“Told you we need a better coffee maker, oh-teacher of the ‘fun’ stuff,” he mentions Scott. He remembers a better coffee maker, too! But the Omega Shift took it away from reality. Curse Alfie.


"Basketball, football, certain things like that… shop, camping and teamwork in general." Scott asserts, his hands rubbing together even with the gloves on the chill outside can be felt. It is numbing the tips of his fingers. Won't be long before someone is calling the youths in that are outside playing, it won't be him. A bit of cold is easily ignored when you're staying active which right now his activity is just chattering to Miss Eve and Nate. "Usually nothing wrong with our coffee. Have you been able to make yourself comfortable here? I am sorry for the lack of anything more than the guest rooms but we don't usually expect family to stay for very long."


Helen seems uneffected by the cold, even if as the moments pass breath can be seen in light fog before her lips. It is cold where she is 'from', this is a mid-summer night's….

A glance towards Nate bring pale eyes to frame in sharp corners of dark lined eyes where the glasses do not offset the natural keenness of her stare. "Two against one, now Mister Scott of 'fun' stuff," a mimic of Nate's tone but the mirth in her smile and eyes seems at play. "The coffee is what makes mornings fun."

A pause and she looks upward along the Mansion, as if in debate of Scott's question of comfort, a breath exhaled and a slow nod drops her gaze back to them. "My clients have made no complaints about their guest room at all, nor the accommodations. I have not stayed in one of those rooms, only visited.." To put in place protection and assurance, only moving them once to a different placement in the wing for…. Alignment. AKA 'The Bed Wasn't Soft Enough'.

"It will be a bit, but I can accommodate for anything lacking due to the stay." No apology, only fact, and even though the woman is short, she seems unmoving in that simple fact.


"It is a school," mentions Nate with a faint smirk. As if it clearly explained why it is not too comfortable. Not that he has ever had anything but a guest room, despite the occasional offer to settle here for good.

A survivor mindset does not allow for real settling. Rose almost managed to make him, but that place is ashes now.

"And where is the Viking right now? I have not seen Matt since we got back from… the last field trip," to that pleasant tropical island with the giant robots.


"It is. You're learning, Nate." It is not exactly as though Nates upbringings allow him to have much familiarity with the ideas of school or what that involves. At least not until the Sinister constructed youth stepped from one world to the next.

"Well your clients are welcome until they find suitable offschool accommodations." Scott's smile is tight which is not intended. He is still in recovery from the Genosha ordeal it has his social habits strained.

"No clue. I'm sure he is around here somewhere."


The backdoor to the mansion opens. As if the large, lumbering mutant hybrid has been summoned, Mattias Larsson steps out onto the patio. His recently showered hair is damp, hanging in straight waves. Despite the cold having zero affect on him, he's thrown on a leather jacket that looks as if it's been patched and remade more than once. Junger-green pants over menacing tan boots, he's dangling the same chains he always does.

But the faded, black 'Monster Babes from Outer Space' tee shirt? That's new. He's been to Salem Center this week, or perhaps has finally learned about Amazon or Etsy.

The hollow, metallic clang of a zippo lighter sparks fire to life. Out comes the cigarette, and as he walks towards the steps down to the ground level, he dips his head and hoods his hand over the lighter to protect it from with wind, looks up aaaand…

…freezes into a stare.

Two seconds later, he claps the lighter shut and takes the first puff from the cigarette, waving his hand to the three.

"So…who's excited about the Halloween?" Mattias asks, lifting his brows and feigning with a pair of 'Dio horns' out to the side. "We should go to Death Hotel and be likes…I fear not these silly people in hockey masks."


Helen tilts her head and once more glances at the building, the evident doubt about 'Just a School'is written plain as day while those glass-emphasized eyes sweep from Nate's scars to Scott's… "A school for…" Viking??

A hitch of breath that fluxes throat and the laugh is more a cough.

The inquiry of Mattias' whereabouts is met with a shrug of slender shoulder, nearly sending the strap of case from the slope, but opposing hand hooks fingers and nails around the corded material to tug it back to place.

"As it is said: You speak of the devil..?" The accent is prominent, the capturing hand laden in rings and slave-chain to gauntleted bracelet gestures to the door where Matti steps out from.

Scott's tight smile is duly noted, though, and his phrasing of offschool accommodations gets him the same return from Helen. "I assure you, Mister Scott, these accommodations…. Are in best interests…" The change of subject and approach has Helen looking back towards the court where the kids are finally gathering up and heading inside, as night is settling in, glances cast their way with small waves and fleeting smiles. Helen just watches…

"What is a Death Hotel? It sounds like a Mid… Night… Masquerade…" Nice save! Maybe?

Masks, fear, etc…

The look to Scott and Nate seems almost sheepish, if not for the lycanthropic smile - all teeth.


"Hey, Matti," greets Nate with a nod at the blond man. "Just in time," in time for what is left unspoken. "Gifted kids," he mentions to Helen. "Although maybe not gifted at basketball," in reference to the ongoing game of fumbling children.

"And thanks for reminding me about Halloween," he adds for Mattias. "I like Halloween. Hmm, I wonder if the theater group is planning something. They probably are. And Mutant Town gets pretty lively for Halloween."


"There is the man in question." Scott remarks with the subject change and appearance. A lingering glance at Helen at the trailing remark about her clients housing situation but he doesn't press or carry on.

"Death Hotel? I know Westchester has a Witches Parade and we actually host a portion of the Haunted Trail through Xavier Grounds outside of that, faculty and some of the older students have a party to go to." Perhaps.

Scott clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. Even with the students decorating he hasn't paid much mind to the holidays. He likely should for their sake.


Mattias lifts his cigarette in salute to the three, chin jerking up sharply towards Nate as he joins the circle of conversation. He glances down to his feet, pressing his boots into his own spot in the grass. "Yeah, it's definitely not a basketball training camp." Mattias grins and flicks the ashes from his cigarette into the wind. "At least not for those kids." He adds a little more quietly.

Because they're kids. With dreams.

"I saw a thing on television for a haunted house called 'Death Hotel'." Mat looks up, speaking towards Helen with a similar accent. "I never went to a haunted house back home, but it's a hotel in Brooklyn, I suppose, done over to look like a place of the dead. People in masks with fake weapons jump out and try to scare you for money." Mattias snorts, waving his cigarette in a circle. "Halloween is for sexy costumes, horror movies, and drinking, but something about going through a haunted house just sounds…fun. Like a test of resolve."

Mattias bats Scott's side with an elbow, then sweeps their face.

"No party for us older people, then?" Mat blinks. "Please tell me I haven't been chosen for guarding the kids; I've got an agenda this Halloween."


"Mister Scott needs to train them better to get the balls in baskets." Said on the tails of the passing youths. "I like the Red Team. Teach them first. I will be sure to compen…" A flick of one of the children's tails just over the band of sagging red shorts has her pausing, Nate's words on 'gifted' now taken in fully. A shift to Matti as he sidles up to Scott and then Nate.

"So your Hallow's is all theatre?" A slow pass of question comes to all three of them, lingering on Matti with a thin draw of lips. "I would like to set up this Haunting Trail here…" A beat. "For the children." A clearing of throat and her eyes watch the door finally close behind the youths, a peer now over the rim of glasses.

"I can make it adult.." A drum of nails over her slung brief case while lips part and the breathe mists a it more dense before her lips, but she remains unabashed by the encroaching chill.

"What can this Theatre do?" Oh… no good can come of this…"Agenda?" Brows rise and she slowly dismisses her question to Matt to look at Scott.

"Please, allow me to entertain myself if I am to be here, and show your 'School' a Dark Night."

As Xavier's Turns…


Now Nate is vaguely bemused by Helen's words and he directs an inquiring glance to Mattias. "I am in a theater troupe, part time, but not with the school people. 'Cause I like theater, and stage magic, but…" uh, he really shouldn't say what he does for a living most of the time. Rrright. "They are just hobbies," he sighs. "If we are going to have a party here, though, count me in."


'Straws haven't been drawn yet, Matt." Scott replies in his usual flat tone.

"You?" Scott looks at Helen, "You're not faculty… I mean, we could use the help but… " An open and closing of his mouth follows, its hard to stress the security importance of this place in a manner that right now wouldn't come off rude when Miss Eve seems so eager. "I'll speak to the Professor and we will have to run a background check on you. I hope you understand… "

Scott suddenly feels like hes in need of an adult himself. One who organizes such things not just X-Men regimen.


"I can vouch for her." Mattias speaks up. The cigarette bobbles from the edge of his lip, attention turning from a scant glance to Helen to the two X-ers in question: Scott and Nate. His lips turn inwards as he breathes in, then he continues, plucking the cigarette free and breathing his words in smoke. "If you need a reference, ask my mothers, who are in the guest wings. Helen's been supportive of my family and keeping a watchful eye on them while I've been…elsewhere."

Mattias flicks his cigarette and tucks on the four pendants hanging from his neck, suddenly in thought.

"It's been a long year, and it's getting longer. What we really need is a brief escapes." Mattias, again, throws plural when he should singular. "That's my agenda." He quickly slides a lock of hair behind his ear and looks Helen's way. "So if I have any say, I think Nate should bring his theater troupe, and we should have a good time for a change. We all agree on this, ja?"


"Stage…magic…" Helen's voice is low as she repeats Nate's words, a lift of her head has her placing fingertip with honed nail painted a deep mossy green, to the bridge of glasses and shoving them up and back into place over her eyes. "Sounds delightful!" Hands clasp just before her lips, a split grin, a wound opened only slightly behind a form of prayer whiel her attention goes to Scott then and the low nod is almost a bow in appearance to his au-thor-i-tay!

"Do what you must. I understand not being a guardian of your 'Gifted' aside from one," A slide of eyes to Matti at that and nails *click together before fingers twine and clasp to fold before her high-waisted trousers. "But I mean no harm, until my flight back to Svenskar for further, I am here with nothing more to…"

Mattias speaks up and she watches those pendants in his tug, a tight line of lips forming. "…do."

A flick of gaze to Scott at his words and then Nate. "You know where to find me once you consult your Professor, then?" No guest suite named, no placement given… It is only assumed where she is.

"Good times…" A repeat of words, echo'd with a passing smile while heels cadence over stone.

"There's hot water left, I hope."


Nate blinks slowly to Mattias when he kind of invites a bunch of college-aged strangers to Xavier's. That would be a weird mixing of two segments of his life that he has kept distant because secrecy was needed. "I can ask them, I guess," he comments unconvinced.

They would be quite surprised to know he hangs out at a school upstate. And most of them know he is a mutant vigilante. Uh. This is not a good idea. But he will ask Xavier. The school was going public, after all.

He nods at Helen, offering a half smile. "Great to meet you, Helen. Not many would jump at… hmm, help organizing a party for this crowd. Bold," but he approves.

Surely nothing could be wrong with this plan. (Except maybe if the Sentinels attack - but that almost never happens).


"Likely harmless as this is a public event." Scott informs Nate as if he could almost see his hesitation. Hes having his own in regards to volunteers though he knows parents and guardians will want to if they can. "It should be no harm in you assisting us Miss Eve, it just depends on what capacity." A quick smile and Scott is studying the two students. Mattias can vouche as he pleases, Scotts a stuffy prick about some things and school security is one. Scott procedures are a standard here.

"Yes, I find your enthusiasm pretty… cool." He remarks before releasing an exhale. "No clue you were in theatre, Nate and you're absolutely right Matt. We need some fun between missions. We'll get on this."


No… Nothing could be wrong, unless it is Amora setting up a 'Haunted trail' for the 'Gifted', and more than hockey 'masks' and fake scares are called for.

"Oh, I am 'delighted!', to help a party of this magnitude." A pause and her eyes settle on Nate, and then Scott. "let me know when I can see what your…magicians do." The smile is lingering, but a light drop to the corner visible as she peers over her shoulder and peels the glasses from her fascade. Her own mask, but still worn while the stitched heart tattoo bends with the craning of swan-like neck to view the trio.

"Bold, Mister Scott. My enthusiasm is bold…" A smile to him and Nate before she looks towards Mattias.

"Harmless and fun… Promise…" A lofted pinky in the withdrawal of he glasses curls, like a 'pinky swear' with no attachments. A wink is sent their way as stairs are climbed in an eased manner despite her fast pace of retreat for the shower.

"I will be down for coffee in the morning…" Expectations set, unknowingly by all parties even as bobby pins loose the messy french-style twisted bun from its placement upon her head, descending pearlescent strands of platinum down her back as the door closes behind her.

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