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[xmm_cassy]

=XS= Cassy and Mira's Room - Girls' Wing - Lv 2
A standard dorm room here at Xavier's. Two twin beds that can form bunk beds or be left separate, two desks with room for both computers and homework, two chairs, two bookshelves, two dressers. Two closets, too. Sensing a theme yet? A bay window with a gorgeous view of the grounds also boasts a comfortable built-in window seat with storage cabinets underneath. Combined with the high ceilings, hardwood floor, smooth plaster and elegant moulding, this is clearly a setting somewhat swanker than a college dorm might be, although personal touches reflecting the occupants' taste are apparent.

It's been some time since the terrible twosome visited their former site of employment, one of New Yorks more easily accessable junkyards. Nothing much has changed in the time since, aside from the old steam engine having been finally finished and given a fresh coat of paint. Wired on pixie sticks Cassy bounces on ahead, already eagerly inspecting things so rusty they might not even have once been cars. On the plus side repeated warnings have sunk in enough to keep her from heading directly for the welding gear....

"Hey," Mira says blithely, drawing a hand out of her pocket to point at something resembling an antique sewing machine with several vital components missing. "I remember cleaning that. How'd it get so dirty again so fast?" She cranes her neck to look for the junkyard's owner, the old man Max. "You think we'll actually find somethin' here?"

"Of course we will. And we both know I'm /never/ wrong about anything," Cassy says solemnly, kicking a rusty metal helmet back into a pile of scrap. "It's probably got all dirty 'coz you forgot to put it out of the rain."

Mira clears her throat softly, a sign that she probably ought to feel wounded by that comment but doesn't. "This place is fine if you want stuff that runs on steam." Trailing a finger along a discarded iron beam turned bright orange from rust, she rubs her thumb and forefinger together to feel the grittiness. "Or rust." She folds her arms, tossing her head to one side. Casual disdain.

"Something which runs off steam you say?" Cassy wonders aloud. "That /would/ be kind of awesome, especially considering how big those things can be. Like owning a tank only not quite as good."

"Okay, no." Mira swipes a hand through the air dismissively. "We're not getting a steam engine. That's like worse than diesel. And we'd have to lay railroad tracks everywhere." She exhales a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and hooks her thumbs in her back pockets. "I guess we could just ask if there's anything here that runs." The girl stoops and peers under an old slipcover of indeterminate color. She makes an aghast "Ooooooh" noise and gingerly lowers it back down. "That might've been a car. Once."

Cassy pouts. "Couldn't we get the boys to do that for us?" she asks. "I bet you could tempt them by wearing a swimsuit for class." With an impish giggle she begins heading further in searching for things which have wheels.

Mira rolls her eyes, but follows dutifully. She draws a long white cord from her front pocket and tucks an earbud in, but only one. She has to pay attention, after all. "Think we'll find anything less than a hundred years old?" A pause. "They had cars a hundred years ago, right?" There's a dull thump from a tire that she kicks, a tire not actually connected to a car but the principle is the same.

"Well, that had planes in world war one!" Cassy informs earnestly. "So I guess they must have done. Although they'll probably be really crappy and have seats which would feel at home next to a church pew."

"Y'know I'm not entirely sold on the 'buy and restore' angle." Mira ticks her points off on her fingers as the two stroll through, around, and sometimes more daringly over the arranged junk. "It's a lot of work. It'd be a while before it'd even be drivable. It's a lot of work. Restoring still costs money. It's a lot of work." A pause. "And there's work involved."

"Mira, hon look at it this way. We find a classic car and the auto mechanic class will ask us for the pleasure of fixing it for us," Cassy points out with a smile. "And at most we'll have to spend a little cash on parts. Besides we haven't got our licenses yet have we? So it'll give us time and incentive to pass out tests!"

Mira's footsteps crunch to a halt and she puts her hands on her hips. "That's supposing a lot." She looks downward and gives the dusty gravel-speckled ground a lazy kick. "Assuming we even find something." A rock skitters across the junkyard and pings dully off something metallic. She holds up her hands, palms out. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all for finding something on the cheap."

Cassy giggles. "Hey worst case scenario we've wasted a little time we could have spent in the mall looking for stuff to buy! 'S not like we're missing out on dates for this." She eyes Mira. "Or are we?"

"Nooooo," Mira says back and folds her arms. "*We're* not. But my mom's coming in tomorrow." This brings a round of soft grumbling. "So, like, last hurrah and whatever." A sigh escapes the girl's lips and she continues walking aimlessly through the junkyard. "This one's okay, I guess," she comments, stopping in front of something that looks like an old taxi cab with paint the color of grey primer. Or maybe it just is grey primer. "Oops, except it doesn't have an engine. Is that a problem?"

Cassy nods slowly. "Unless you wanna roll it all the way home?" she asks. "And like if your mom's visiting does that mean you'll be letting her meet your..." She kicks a pile of broken toasters. "Your friends."

"No!" Mira replies quickly, a little too quickly. Pink creeps into her cheeks and she looks away. The unspoken but completely plain and understandable subtext remains. "I mean, she's met you already." Subject change, subject change! "Hey, how about that one over there? It's still got all four wheels." Moving quickly, Mira pulls up another darkly stained slipcover from a car. "Looks like it was white. Once upon a time." Pulling the slipcover further back, it's a good thing it was on there. The car's softcover covertible top has several large holes in it. "It's a... uh..." Mira leans around to the side of the car to find the badge. "Pontiac. Those are good, right?"

"I have no clue what one of those is!" Cassy admits, skipping over for a closer look. "And I'm totally taking that as she met the most awesome of my friends so the others don't matter."

"Would you want to introduce Walter to people and actually admit you know him?" Mira leans over the side of the convertible and into the passenger's seat so far her feet lift off the ground and waggle in the air. "There's no stereo. That's a problem. But it's only got... seven.. eight... seventy-eight thousand miles on it." She emerges from the car and takes a breath of air that doesn't smell of old upholstery. "Unless it's a hundred and seventy eight and just rolled all the way around."

"Of course!" Cassy declares. "/Especially/ if they're cannibals."

"Do you know many cannibals?" Mira asks conversationally, fingers probing under the Pontiac's hood for some kind of catch. It opens, but only a few inches before squealing to a halt with a painful, rusty sound. Mira doesn't seem to be affected, at least. "It's got an engine!" she announces happily.

"Sadly no," Cassy admits with a sigh. "An engine you say? Don't suppose you know how rusty it is? If it's not too bad we might even be able to make it /work/."

"I... have no idea. It's kind of dark and I forgot my nightvision goggles." Mira peers into the space between hood and car to make out the engine. "But it's definitely got one, so that's a start. And it's a convertible. And it doesn't have a price tag, which means we can haggle!"

"How about using your awesome power to listen and try find out if any animals are living in it first," Cassy suggests sweetly. "Then I'll shove my arm inside and check for rust and wiring. Plus the acid burning of a leaky battery."

Mira strokes her chin thoughtfully and circles around to the side of the hood. Pressing her shoulder against it, she manages to give the old car a gentle rocking start before pressing her ear to the side of the body. "There's something loose. Or maybe there's rocks inside. But nothing that sounds alive. Dead maybe, but not alive." She steps back and politely gestures to the car. "Your turn."

Cassy eyes. "If I grab something dead in there you'll totally regret it," she warns, tentatively reaching inside. "Okay, I'm getting some kind of oily stuff on my fingers and I think there's a couple of really old damaged wires. Doesn't seem all that rusted though."

"That's good though, isn't it? It might still actually hold oil?" Mira brushes her hand on the thigh of her pants, even though of the pair her hands are by far the cleaner at the moment. "How... how much do you think it's worth? We don't want to start too high."

"Lets start out stupidly low and work our way up," Cassy suggests, taking a look at how much space the car has. "I mean we can point out all of the flaws and the work it'll need doing."

"Well, what's our price range? I mean, if he asks for, like, even two thousand bucks, we can't really afford that." Mira hooks her thumbs in her jeans' pockets. "But we did work here, and he does know us. ... assuming he remembers us. He is kinda old."

Cassy frowns. "I have a bit more money hidden away than you'd think, plus I bet your Mom would help as part of your birthday present. Oh and like if he doesn't remember us then you can always flirt with him to lower the price instead!"

"Why is *my* body your favorite bargaining chip for getting people to do us favors?" Mira folds her arms and harumphs, but not seriously. She takes out the single earbud, which she didn't even bother to do while listening to the engine block, and tucks it in her pocket. She exhales. "Okay, we get a price fixed first, then we see about actually getting the money and getting it home. Right?" Mira puts out a fist, appropriate for conspiratorial secret handshakes and fistbumps.

"Because I'm not gonna convince anyone I'm legal. Duh!" Cassy replies sullenly. "And you totally have better curves than me anyway. So unfair when you're youngest." Pouting she makes a cryptic hand gesture and then bumps her fist into Mira's.

"Genetics," Mira says, though not without a hint of pride for some reason. "Alright, don't seem too interested at first. Don't mention a price until we get a feel for how much it's really worth, and... uh..." Mira's eyes roll skyward. "I forget. There was a third thing, but it's probably not imporant right now." She kicks at something on the ground which ricochets across the junkyard and against a collection of empty oil drums with a hollow ringing sound. "'Ey!" she calls out. "Max! You got customers, dude!"


=XS= Path to the Lake - Xavier Woods - Xavier's School
The overhanging canopy of trees eventually gives way to dirt, and leaves to tall grasses as this particular path emerges from the forest into a meadow overlooking Breakstone Lake. At the top of the bluff, a clump of slender silver birches rings a Japanese garden, with a pathway in careful gravel splitting off the main path to lead towards it. Another path curls off and slopes down into a clearing that houses the stables. The meadow turns to a small and sandy cliff, anchored both by the matted roots of the grass and by the sloping trail cut into it that leads down to a large wooden dock, and a quaint little two story boathouse with chalet on top and storage and a boat launch on the bottom.

Without explaining herself the resident telekinetic terror of Xavier's school has arranged a gathering out in a woodland clearing. Attendence is not as high as expected due to finals, but Cassy doesn't seem to mind. She's busy balancing on a tree stump, juggling a large egg shaped object wrapped in black duct tape and with some kind of kitchen egg timer poking out of it.

Jackson has no finals of his own to worry about, so he is free to indulge curiosity. He leans against the trunk of a tree, weight propped against the tree more than on his crutches, and eyes the egg with a lot of inquisitiveness and a touch of wariness. It /is/ Cassy, after all, and he's already got a broken leg and a bruised face to take care of.

Wearing a dark blue football jersey with Nantucket written on the chest above a large 88, along with a pair of track pants and his sports goggles, Tobias bounces on his toes, breathing steadily. The teen has been training practically nonstop around his finals and today's no different. Well, except that he's one of the people around where Cassy is, which usually implies that his training regimen is somewhat different than usual today. He seems primed at any event, or at least focused as he bounces up and down.

The fastest runner in Cassy's little group, Walter decided he should come, if only so he can carry someone to the medbay if necessary. He sits in a low branch of a nearby tree, watching carefully as Cassy fiddles with the egg timer. "It's not going to explode, is it?" he wonders from about 15 feet away.

"Greetings one and all," Cassy says, waving her arm. "Thanks for taking time out from studying for this ground breaking science. Kindly take the goggles and damp cloths provided, then take a seat." She beams at her audience. "Okay, Tobias I'm going to throw this for you to smoke just like the basketballs. If you can keep it in smoke form for longer than ten seconds that would be /awesome/."

"Goggles?" Jackson's fingers pluck at the strap of his eyepatch, and his gaze flicks around uncertainly. "How about I just stand a little farther away?" He does take a cloth and a seat, though, on a stump near Walter's tree.

Tobias shakes himself out, stopping his bouncing and turning to face Cassy. He just nods to the girl and plants his feet, locking his eyes on her. "Let's go," he tells her, rubbing his hands together and holding them out to the sides a bit. "Give me your best shot."

Walter climbs to a higher branch, gripping it tightly as he watches from what he prays is a safe distance. "It's going to explode, isn't it?"

"Only in my dreams," Cassy says hopefully. "The goggles are a safety precaution, however I have the utmost confidence they won't be required." She does however make a point of putting hers on and pulling the scarf around her neck up to cover her mouth. "Ready?" She clicks the timer, then without waiting for a reply hurls the device at Tobias.

"He turns into fog, not -- tear gas." Jackson's brow creases slightly. "I hope." One of his hands lifts to shade his eye anyway. Just in case.

"I'm just blind," Tobias says off hand to explain the goggles strapped to his head. The mutant vaporizes in a swirl, the device doing so as well as it flies towards him. Only a light fog hangs in the air, Tobias having spread himself thin and all around the woods.

Walter watches as the fog spreads out. He looks down at Cassy. "Why is he holding it for 10 seconds?" he wonders.

"No reason," Cassy says innocently, taking a few long steps backwards. "At least I hope not. It's science after all, who knows what might happen!"

"Science," Jackson eches somewhat dubiously, eying Cassy. "-- Maybe I shoulda listened about the goggles."

Ten seconds ticks by, and still no Tobias. The fog just hangs quietly all around.

Walter climbs another branch higher, looking into the fog. "Cassy, what was that?" he calls down.

"Home made smoke bomb," Cassy informs casually, still slowly moving backwards. "I wanted to find out what would happen if it was set to go off while Tobias was smoke...."

"Ah." Jackson blinks, and looks at the fog thoughtfully. "It can't -- mix with him or anything, can it?"

The fog condenses quickly, pulling behind Cassy and reforming into Tobias, egg shaped bomb in hand. "Catch," he says to the girl, lobbing the device back at its maker with a grin.

"How would you know if it went off while fogged?" Walter wonders, blinking as Tobias reforms and throws Cassy back her smoke bomb.

Cassy blinks, reflexively TK hurling the smoke bomb off as far into the bushes as possible. "It should beep and make a cloud of smoke," she explains. "And as for them mixing.... uhm I didn't think of /that/." There is suddenly the loud beeping of an oven timer and a thick cloud of pink smoke some distance away.

"But it doesn't matter anyway since --" Jackson's head tips in a nod towards the cloud of smoke. "It doesn't go off when it's fogged and Tobias stays in one -- piece. Does fogging things press the pause button?" He flicks a questioning gaze towards Tobias.

Tobias watches the puff of the explosion before looking sidelong at Cassy. "Pink?" he asks, snorting. He crosses his arms and digs his tongue into his cheek. "It always screwed up my watches," he answers Jackson, turning from the sight of the smokebomb. "Guess it does."

Walter considers. "Maybe because the mechanics don't actually exist anymore?" he wonders. "Can you fog stuff without fogging yourself at the same time? If so, that might be a kind of useful trick to have, pressing pause like that."

Cassy giggles with glee. "It could hardly be white now could it?" she points out. "And like totally wow. I wasn't sure it would even work!"

"It'd be cool if it pressed the pause button on /you/." Jackson leans forward to prop one elbow on his knee and rest his chin in his hand. "I mean, it's not like you stay that way for a year or something but -- but if you /did/ maybe it would be like cryogenically freezing yourself and you'd stay seventeen /forev/-- oh, gosh." Jackson's nose wrinkles slightly. "Maybe not so cool."

"Already figured that out," Tobias tells Jackson. "I think, at least. I cut my hand once and fogged up, back when I first manifested. I didn't start bleeding until after I reformed." He shrugs at whatever that means and looks to Walter, making a thoughtful humming sound. "I, never even tried that," he admits, scratching under his eye. "Got another one, Cassy?"

"Well, um... kind of silly, but, considering our lives... maybe if he fogged a bomb, and Ms Munroe could blow it away before it reformed?" Walter suggests, shrugging. "Or, someone gets hurt, he fogs them so they don't bleed to death."

Cassy nods. "This is gonna sound weird comming from me but second one is a /good/ idea, the first not so much. I mean how would anyone know which fog was Tobias? But if you can move as fog without taking the stuff you fog with you...."


=XS= Walter and Julio's Room - Boys' Wing - Lv 2
A standard dorm room here at Xavier's. Two twin beds that can form bunk beds or be left separate, two desks with room for both computers and homework, two chairs, two bookshelves, two dressers. Two closets, too. Sensing a theme yet? A bay window with a gorgeous view of the grounds also boasts a comfortable built-in window seat with storage cabinets underneath. Combined with the high ceilings, hardwood floor, smooth plaster and elegant moulding, this is clearly a setting somewhat swanker than a college dorm might be, although personal touches reflecting the occupants' taste are apparent.

With a very large bowl of overly sugary popcorn, Cassy springs into hostile territory or rather heads into the boys dorm wing. She stares at the door to Walter and Julio's room for a moment, sighs and then TK knocks on the door. "I don't have any live animals with me!"

Walter rolls over on his bed, taking some time out from his moping to glare at the door. "Come to gloat?" he grumbles.

"Huh?" Cassy wonders. "I don't even know /why/ you're sulking Walt, at least let me find out before I decide something as important as my gloating schedule."

Walter glares just a little more, then rolls back over, back to the door. "Fine, come in if you want," he invites, realizing that that's probably the best he's getting out of her.

Cassy tuts, then lets herself in. "I come bringing popcorn, a dvd in which a giant robot ruins a large city in the name of protecting it and the sneaking suspicion you've had some horrible news."

"No thanks to you," Walter grumbles, curling up a little on his bed. He looks over his shoulder, staring at her. "Mira really didn't tell you?"

"Tell me? Hmmm well if it's /Mira/ related I'd guess it's the secret boyfriend she's pretending I don't know about," Cassy replies with a shrug. The popcorn is brandished at Walter expectantly. "And why am /I/ to blame huh? I provided some options ages ago and she actually picked one. I was as shocked as anyone when Tobias told me, like and if it makes you feel any better she totally told him on a date."

It doesn't. "Great, so she'll even date /Tobias/ over me," Walter says with a mope, curling up a little tighter.

Cassy taps her foot and frowns. "Actually I don't think she knew it was a date when she agreed to it," she admits. "It was more two people going to the movies. Besides Tobias isn't all that bad, he didn't curl up and sulk. Plus he drives, girls like a guy with a car." She nods solemnly.

Walter sulks a little harder at that. "Well excuse me for not being rich," he bites.

"It's not about being rich," Cassy says with a long sigh. "I mean have you seen the car we're getting? Turns out mice had been living in the trunk. It's more about independence and freedom, like being your own man and stuff."

Walter frowns at his wall. "And that's why?" he asks, a little anger coming into his voice. "After telling he I like her, and asking me out, she turns me down over a car?" he wonders.

"Nah it's probably because she doesn't want to get romantically involved with a friend," Cassy says cheerfully. "Take it from me nothing kills a friendship like them being an ex boy or girlfriend." She plants the popcorn down on Walters desk, the impact disturbing the sugar enough to reveal chocolate and marshmallows. "Seriously friendship is more important and more precious than romance."

Walter rolls over, looking at Cassy. "And what if we'd worked out?" he wonders. "What does she even have in common with this guy she's dating?"

"High school relationships almost never last," Cassy points out innocently. "It's like a law. As for this guy? I don't really know, music I'd guess. He's probably kinda cute too, but I honestly don't remember which one he was."

Walter frowns, curling up a little to look down at his feet. "This sucks. I was fine with it when she said she just wasn't interested in dating. I could hold out... wait until she was. Then I find out that she just wasn't interested in dating /me./"

Cassy cringes. "Okay look Walter I /really/ don't wanna upset you saying this, but holding out and waiting for someone to be interested in dating is a bit weird." She bites her lip. "Doing something like that twists your friendship with someone into something unhealthy."

Walter sighs. "I really liked her..."

"And if you truely care about her you'll be happy she's found someone she likes," Cassy points out solemnly. "And be safe in the knowledge if he steps out of line I'll turn him into a throw rug for the boys bathroom."

"I'll help," Walter offers, cracking a very small smile, of an admittedly wicked sort. "Mira's..." he sighs. "She's still my friend just... it's disappointing."

Cassy tuts, shaking her finger. "Sorry but it's a best friend duty," she replies with an impish grin, "But I'll reserve you the first use of his head as a foot stool." She nods towards the candy popcorn creation. "Now eat 'till you feel sick. Chocolate is essential when you get dumped, something I've told all my ex's."

Walter frowns. "Not really hungry," he says, leaning back. "The DVD sounds interesting, though."

"It's not about hunger," Cassy explains, shaking her head. "It's endolphins and stuff. You can totally borrow it if you want? I've got a full schedule for the next few days, plus I need to speak to someone about maybe trying out summer intern work."

Walter sighs. "I should probably get a job too... maybe Chaotic Alignments is hiring..." He looks at the things Cassy brought. "Serious, Cassy, don't really feel like eating anything right now. Thanks anyway."

"If I take it back with me you won't be offended then?" Cassy wonders, eyeing the bowl. "Because I could put it into something airtight and it'll keep a couple of days."

Walter gestures to the bowl. "Go ahead. Try Tim, that looks about like the kind of thing he'd eat."

Cassy shakes her head. "Not enough random condiments for Tim," she jokes. "I'll save it for late night revision snacks." She scoops the bowl up and drops the dvd on the desk to replace it. "Anyway try not to stay inside sulking, get outside and do something active. It'll make you feel much better, science proved running fights depression!"

"So's turning my metabolism down to the point where it's hard to think," Walter says, laying back down.

"Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay then," Cassy replies, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I'll cya laters. Enjoy the dvd!"


=XS= Main Computer Lab - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
White and neutral-toned, sterile and polished down to the last tile, this is a room of pure function and little form. At one end of the beige-carpeted expanse, a raised platform holds the instructor's computer, with a whiteboard and projection screen behind it. Four rows of six desks and chairs each furnish forth a lab fit for twenty four students to check their email in class at one time, on flat screen monitors and systems kept religiously upgraded and updated. A small coffee table sits beneath long, rectangular window panes that let in ample light, the only non-regulation piece of furniture. Trays filled with assignments marked and waiting to be marked have colonized it.

Balancing on one of the computer chairs is a certian telekinetic teen. One who appears to be up to something from the way she's giggling and bouncing up and down. "I bet you're wondering why I asked yah to take a break from studying right?" Cassy asks, making a few deft mouse clicks.

Standing by the door is the recently solidified Tobias, cleaning some condensation off his glasses. A skeptical glance is sent Cassy's way and he chuckles at the question. "Considering it's you?" he posits, "I'm going to guess it has something to do with more experiments, or explosives, most likely both."

"And you'd be wrong! While at first I was tempted to parade Walter being turned down by Mira over the school I kind of figured he was already down enough without me kicking him," Cassy replies with glee, hitting the print button with an overly dramatic flourish. "Instead I decided now is the time for some nice unexpected revenge."

Tobias blows on his glasses and looks at them through the light. "For once, I'm glad to be wrong," he comments, putting his glasses back on. "And he didn't know about Mira?" he asks, looking confused a moment before a dawning look takes over. "I knew I forgot to tell him something, ah well." He doesn't sound too beat up over it, however. "So what's your plan?"

"You'd be proud. I even went to cheer him up," Cassy admits, frowning as if confused. "But anyway the /revenge/. This guy stalking Tim, he has like totally crossed a line. No-one upsets my friends and gets away with it." She beams at Tobias. "Behold the instroment of my wrath!" She picks up one of the printed sheets and holds it out, a pretty top rate fake CPAM poster with a picture of Austin Stone on it.""

"Like I said a while back, you really do care about people," Tobias says, walking over to take the paper and look it over. "What cruel entity of chaos gave you access to photoshop?" he asks, grinning as he looks the paper over. "Give you points in subtlety, not usually your strong suit."

Cassy rolls her eyes. "You are /way/ out on that front," she informs earnestly. "I do subtle all the time, you're just all too busy following my zany antics to notice." She giggles, making sure to run the evidence through an electronic file shredder. "I've also got a copy for his landlord. Basically we drop these in every shop with a sign in the nearby bits of Westchester, then post the rest around his office."

"Good, good," Tobias says, pacing as he looks over the paper in his hand. "You've got a good base here, a good thing to build off of," he explains, grinning and looking to Cassy. "But you're thinking too small time. This is marketing, you can't cast too small a net."

"I'm thinking funding actually. I'm already going to have to buy a new ink cartridge, change a few bits in the printer and replace all the paper we're using. Just incase they trace this back to the school," Cassy says sullenly. She spends a few moments staring at one of the posters, then shrugs. "We could hit a cyber cafe and email the real CPAM site his details with a fake mutation, claim he's using telepathy to brainwash his clients."

"Did you forget who you're talking to?" Tobias asks, laughing at Cassy as he drops the paper by the girl to fish out his wallet. "Only make one copy of this, we get the rest from a copy shop, can't be traced," he says, flipping through his billfold. "Then you try and find an anti mutant site. See if you can find how many places in the city have those signs up about no mutants, and if they're names on it. Like a petition or something." He fishes out a pair of twenties and drops them in front of Cassy. "We'll send all of them a copy. There's your starting funds. Budget that well and I may lend more."

"I never think about how much money other people have," Cassy informs with a shrug. "Places with signs is easy, but I'd rather look that up in a cybercafe too. After all the network is hardly unmonitored here. As for petitions, I want to ruin the guy not get him knifed. But I have no ethical problems dropping his business details on some forums and seeing if they'll take the hint."

"That's your problem, always consider investors," Tobias informs in turn as he pockets hi wallet. "Not saying you have to look it up here. Look it up wherever you want. In fact, less I know about what you do, the better. Keeps me at a safe distance." He walks back to the door to lean against it. "Just saying if you let some bars and other places know, he'd probably just get kicked out of them. If mutants got knifed for being mutants, there'd be a lot more dead folks out there."

Cassy tuts. "I need you involved to some degree," she points out. "I need transport for my scheme, besides like investors are a liability. They get weird notions about having the right to know what you're up to." She smiles. "The trouble with using marketing as inspiration is you forget that too much attention is bad."

"No such thing as bad press," Tobias retorts. "You want as much press as you can get, just not on you. Which is why you use outside places like libraries, copy shops, and the like. Hell, you could forgo the whole work issue altogether and just drop some noise to CPAM. They seem keen on getting the word out."

"I guess I'll do that too," Cassy admits. "But if he gets too much attention it could become a police matter and if he can twist it into the school being responsable, even if he's taking a shot in the dark it'd turn out badly."

Tobias rolls his eyes. "You act as if that problem hasn't been noticed," he says, shaking his head. "Cassy, any, and I mean, /any/ problems he gets he could point towards the school. If you don't want to risk it, don't do anything at all."

Cassy waves her hand dismissively. "The difference is if I get caught doing a prank it's not going to end up with me being expelled. Doesn't mean I'm /not/ going to do it, just means I'm not going all out. I'll save that for if he keeps fucking with my friends."

"Sometimes I forget that you don't truly think things through," Tobias says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Cassy, what you're doing is slander, or libel, I can't remember the difference," he says with a sigh. "It's illegal and damages his reputation and livelihood no matter what extent you do. Word travels fast, you think this is going to magically stay where you want it to?" he asks, practically laughing at the thought.

Cassy tilts her head curiously. "And why is being a mutant a bad thing?" she wonders. "I'll cut the specifics and the bits about brainwashing people. But then if it comes to a court case we win, they claim it damages his reputation and we hit them with a discrimination lawsuit."

"It isn't. Not to me, not to you, not to most of this school except that hick kid," Tobias explains, "But if you missed the news lately, they've got signs kicking us out of businesses, they're building robots for use against us. The public image we've got isn't exactly stellar." He sighs again and looks to the sky. "You cannot lie about someone. Which is what you're doing."

"It wasn't a robot," Cassy points out with an impish grin. "And it's not exactly a lie. I haven't got a blood test proving he /isn't/ a mutant." She waves Tobias's money at him. "Look do you think it's going to get us screwed over? If so take the money back now and I'll take the blame alone."

"Cassy, wipe that fucking smirk off your face and quit acting like an idiot," Tobias snaps, looking more than a little serious as he glares through his lenses. "Wake up, kid, what you're thinking about it illegal, and very dangerous for anyone involved. What I want to know is if you're really ready to play in the major's and that this isn't a stupid game."

Cassy rolls her eyes. "It would hardly be my first or worst crime," she informs solemnly. "And you can't know me very well if you haven't figured /everything/ I do is a game in one form or another. After all I do my best work when I'm enjoying myself, but that doesn't mean I'm not utterly committed to my actions." The money is put down on the desk.

"Name it then," Tobias counters, crossing his arms. "You didn't even think about getting funding. What exactly are you going to be doing. Make your case, and make it now. Have you actually thought this out fully?"

"Because I was funding it /myself/," Cassy reminds. "I don't like spending other peoples money unless they're equally involved." She sighs. "Taking into account your wise council the plan currantly revolves around a nice simple electronic attack, we send CPAM in enough details from a one use email in a cybercafe to get them on his case. We also post his details on as many anti-mutant sites as we can find, each from a different cafe as it's harder to trace that way." She chews her lip, then adds. "We send a physical poster to his landlord and the other tenants. Each one posted from different places around the city, while wearing gloves and using printed labels."

Tobias' face doesn't change it's serious tone as he listens to Cassy's plan. "Return address?" he asks, an eyebrow arcing over his glasses.

"Let's go for authenticity and use CPAM's. We'll send them with the cheapest postage possible so it'll take longer to reach them," Cassy explains, drumming her fingers on the desk. "We don't hit the places with signs, the volume of printing could make us memorable. If anything we let CPAM do that, then they'll take the heat in a way which helps the mutant rights cause."

Tobias adjusts his glasses and stands up straight, looking down to the sitting Cassy, still with that stone face on. "Now see, it isn't that hard to not be so flippant about things, is it?" he asks, starting to grin. "When you take some real command, and stop smirking and giggling, people will start respecting and listening to you more. Now come on, you've got emails to write. I'll cover for some food while we're out."

"You missed a flaw," Cassy says, winking. "We'll need to make sure each letter is sent near a CPAM office or else it'll look suspicious with the post marks." Springing to her feet the telekinetic terror collects the USB drive from the machine. "It's a shame we don't have a trustworthy hacker, then we could just sneak his data onto their system."

"I never said your plan was perfect," Tobias says, grinning in turn, "I just said you presented yourself better than you usually do." He's already opening the door at the hacker comment. "No point in wasting time on what we don't have to work with," he says, sounding dead on like his father.

Cassy scoops up the money off the desk. "But don't worry I snagged all that when I was writing an outraged article on my blog, nothing like having a smokescreen for your research now is there?" The tone makes her shake her head in dismay and mutters "Tobias you really need to lighten up, one of the perks of being the crook is you don't have to act like you're in the military."

Tobias stops his walking and looks to Cassy, he looks ready to say something but just shakes his head slowly and continues on his way in silence.