WHO: Jonothon Starsmore and YOU
WHERE: The hallowed halls of Ye Olde Xavier Institutedom
WHEN: 05 July evening - 11 July evening!
SUMMARY: Jono's been brought back to the Institute by Skin and Husk - come mistake him for someone else! Come harass him about Apocalypse! Come be mistaken by him for someone else! Come poke at his cybernetics!
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Comments 53
He decided to wander the hallways though and see if any of his friends that lived there were around.
[ooc: Not an X-person but he has reason to be there so I hope that's okay.]
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Jono intended to find out, and so when the first non-authoritative-looking person crossed his path, he smiled and waved slightly to catch the bloke's attention.
"Mind lending a hand, mate?"
[ooc:It's all good!]
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"Who, me?" he finally asked when he realized there was no one else the guy could be talking to.
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She turned and pulled her headphones out of her pointed ears, looking curiously up to the young man who had disturbed her groove session. "Oy, new guy from some alternate X-team, yeah? I think we met on the comms. Sorry again. I need to watch where I'm going."
And with that, she lauched her wings and raised herself a foot off the ground so she could be eye-level with the stranger.
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"That'd be me," he replied to the kid - the voice was familiar, but he had no idea if he'd gotten her name when they'd talked before. "And it's Jono, actually."
He started a bit as she suddenly leapt to hover at eye-level with him. "Neat trick," he said, impressed. Sure, Shadowcat could float, and so could Vicente - sort of - but he'd not met very many real fliers back in his world.
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In a twisted way Emma monitored the emotions of the students that came by out of concern for them. It had nothing to do with her wanting to know what they were feeling or doing just because she was nosy. She just wanted to make sure they were adjusting to this place and that they were doing okay mentally.
So, anybody that happened to come to get some food or something to drink would see Emma Frost sitting at a table eating a small salad and reading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
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Relieved and disappointed, Jono opened the fridge and began to help himself to a glass of milk.
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"Jono?"
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Something pinged in Jono's memory; this must be the Miss Frost Megan had mentioned. A telepath, so she had reason to know his name, but all the same it was still weird to be named by a complete stranger.
"That's me, yeah," Jono said, trying to shoo the oddly defensive tone out of his voice. Being caught off-guard by authority figures never sat well, he supposed. "And you're Miss Frost?"
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