nextgenerationmarvel | Where Devils Cheer to Tread (Open to all X-Peeps)

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Where Devils Cheer to Tread (Open to all X-Peeps)

There was always a feeling of warmth and camaraderie that exuded from the Xavier Institute. It wasn't that it felt like home, because home was with her dad, who was probably the most awesome dad in the history of dadhood, but the Institute - and the mansion that housed it - always felt like a warm, safe place for Margaret Jacqueline Murdock. Possibly because that's where she'd spent her summers, learning to hone her mutant powers, and making friends who could understand what it was that she was going through.

Though she didn't visit the school much during the school year - Mags attended a boarding school up in Connecticut - she sometimes tried to stop by for a day or so during their week-long spring break. often spending the others with her father, usually operating as Daredevil's trusty sidekick, Acrobat.

Once the gates let her in, she parked her barely-used yellow Vespa and skipped up the steps to the Institute, a friendly smile gracing her pretty features. She wasn't sure if any of the X-Men were around, or if there was trouble brewing somewhere, but given that her dad was busy with some case or another, Mags had decided to pay them a visit. After all, when he got involved in a case that had nothing to do with being Daredevil, there was every chance that he wasn't liable to suit up for an adventure, and Mags still wasn't allowed to go out in costume on her own.

And so here she was, ringing the doorbell.

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Brianna had heard her mother use that one once. She was getting better at understanding Aramis.

"Are either of you hungry? I think it's almost lunch right now."

"Food sounds good," Mags agreed. "I can help whip something up?" Mags was no gourmet cook, but there were certain things she did well in the kitchen. There were some things - like a Thanksgiving turkey - that she did so very not well, too.

"Those waiting to eat are a big crowd." The man-sized turtle patted his belly and stopped leaning on his staff. He gestured toward the kitchen so he could follow behind.

Brianna led them to the kitchen. "Well, if you can cook, you're doing better than I am." she said.

"Aramis is right. We might want to hurry before people show up."

"Boarding school," Mags confirmed. "The school caf is only open for so many hours a day." And Mags, who like her father was a very nocturnal person, generally stayed up late and got cravings for macaroni and cheese or bacon and cheddar biscuits covered in gravy at two in the morning. Ergo, cooking had become something that the teenager was somewhat accustomed to.

Soon after entering the kitchen, Mags had croque-monsieur sandwiches on the grill.

"So what part of England are you from?" Mags asked Brianna as she slid a plate towards Aramis.

Aramis grinned at the food being offered to him. He put his hands together and gave Mags a small bow of thanks. He grabbed the plate.

"True gold fears not the test of fire."

With a plate in one hand and his staff in the other, he eyed the seating situation.

"I'm from London, actually. My mother was born in Essex and I go there pretty often to see the sights. I've spent a lot of my time between there and New Orleans, where my father is from." Brianna said.

"No pain, no gain," Mags agreed with Aramis, giving him a warm grin. It was her way of saying If one does not plough, there will be no harvest.

New Orleans and London was...an interesting mix. One that Mags might not have seen coming. The girl's English was so crisp and proper. Mags enjoyed the sound of it, though.

"I might have guessed, but I didn't want to assume," Mags nodded at Brianna, sliding a sandwich towards her. Mags herself assumed that they'd just sit at the kitchen table.

"I pretty much grew up in Hell's Kitchen, though I've spent quite a lot of time in Connecticut. And, you know, summers here when my powers kicked in."

Aramis eyed the chairs at the kitchen table. Chairs mostly made for regular-shaped people and not for man-sized turtles with a shell that stuck out enough to make sitting in a chair a task.

He walked over to the table and set down his plate in the spot he wanted to sit. He leaned his staff against the table, making the rings atop it jangle. Then he pulled the chair out and turned it around. He settled down on it, straddling it so his shell wouldn't keep his butt from sitting on it properly.

"Practice makes for true knowledge."

"We should get some turtle-chairs for you guys." Brianna said thoughtfully. She had no idea where they would come from but someone should look into it.

Brianna sat down at a table, thanking Mags for the sandwich. She was rather hungry but tried to eat slowly to preserve being ladylike.

"So how long are you staying for, Mags?" Brianna asked.

"Talk to Mrs. Grey-Ramsey, Mr. Ramsey, or Sage," Mags nodded. "Or Topher, or one of the other Xavier lifers." She'd been there long enough to know who to go to when you needed something. "One them should be able to help." She sat down across from Brianna and waited a moment, wanting her sandwich to cool a little before eating it. "The night, if that. I'd like to spend as much time with my dad as possible before I go home, you know? I never get to see him as much as I'd like to."

Mostly, Matt had sent Mags to Connecticut to keep her safe from everything, and while that had worked, it also meant that Mags didn't see her father as much as she'd liked to. Not the greatest feeling when you didn't know which supervillain would be the one to finally kill your dad during a fight gone wrong.

"I mean, I'm sure you guys know how that is, living here. Unless your parents are senior X-Men?"

"When you aim at the rat, beware the vase," Aramis commented in between bites of his sandwich. He chewed carefully, mostly because he doubted these two were used to eating around a turtle who did not have much in the way of lips.

"Chairs for turtles are called stools, but I prefer a nice rock in the sun."

"I get that. My parents are X-Men and I spent time around her for awhile before we went to England." Brianna said to Mags, taking a bite of her sandwich. She really enjoyed it and kept eating as Aramis spoke.

"Then I will talk to the instructors about stools for you." Brianna said, nodding to Aramis.

"How is Connecticut? I've never been."

"Oh, cool! So you're sort of like a legacy kid." A lot of the X-kids were, really. Maybe not half of the school's population, but a good chunk thereof.

"Connecticut is pretty? It's a lot quieter than New York though, but I think it makes for a good academic environment, so I like that, you know?" She was an avid student and fond of learning.

She turned her attention to Aramis and nodded. "I'm surprised that they still haven't rebuilt the outside eating area after that one incident," she said. "But sunning on a rock actually sounds really relaxing."

Aramis finished up his food and tilted his head. His eyes narrowed slightly and grabbed his staff. He shook slightly.

"Bamboo will not break in the wind."

"Yes. They used to tell me all about their time with the X-Men. Those days, though dangerous, sounded like a damn good time." she said.

Both of her parents came from...unconventional backgrounds, so to speak, and Brianna's upbringing was also very unconventional.

She nodded at the info on Connecticut and resolved that she would see it at some point. It sounded like a nice place.

"What incident was that?" Brianna asked in reference to what Mags and Aramis were discussing.

Mags knew - and understood - all about unconventional, given her own upbringing, and the identity of her father.

"There've been a few over the years, to be honest," Mags confirmed. The Xavier Institute seemed to go through its own destruction and reconstruction every few months, it had seemed once.

"I'm sure that once the staff realizes that things have gotten safer they'll work on fixing it up again."

Then, to Aramis, she added, "Hey, are you alright? I honestly didn't mean to offend you, so if I did, I'm sorry."

Aramis held up a finger, which wasn't hard since he only had three per hand. He coughed, straightened up as much as he could, and then let a sigh out.

As the air blew past his lips, he started to change. His scales changed from green to dark brown. His robes shrunk down to a simple pair of pants; his hat melted down his head to pool around his neck and solid prayer bead necklace. The set of prayer beads on Aramis' arm melded into his skin and became one with his body. The bracers on his arms turned into wooden bracelets. The staff in his hand turned into a pair of nunchaku. The sash around his midsection turned from purple to yellow.

As the red dot in the middle of his forehead, Porthos blinked at the two girls sitting at the table with him.

"Whoooaa."

"Bloody hell..." Brianna said in shock as Aramis changed. She remembered Pete saying that there were four turtles and she'd been curious about how and when the changes occurred, but to see it happen was nothing short of astonishing.

"Okay, so...which one are you?" she asked.

"Duuuuude." Mags grinned as the change took place. She'd never seen it happen, and she was a little surprised. And a little excited. "Brianna," she then said. "Meet Porthos."

Porthos grinned as he stuffed his nunchaku into his sash. He held up his hand with his thumb and third finger out.

"Aloha, wahine. How are you most righteous ladies?"

"Well, hello Porthos. I'm feeling excellent. How about you?" Brianna asked. She couldn't believe this. This guy sounded somewhat human, if a little bit like those California boys she'd heard of in the past.

"Mostly righteous is what we are," Mags nodded. She looked down at the half-eaten sandwich on his plate and looked back at Porthos. Okay, so their personalities and looks changed.

But did their appetites?

"Are you going to need a sandwich of your own?"

The turtle looked down at the empty plate in front of him. He patted his belly.

"Nah. I'm full up. Bummer. Came in at the end of gnosh." He idly scratched his chest shell. "Grub good?"

"The 'grub' is certainly good." Brianna said with a smile.

"How has your day been?"

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