Supping at the Educational Cup, 5/7/05- everyone

[Xavier]

[People NPCd here through mod permission and Xavier's powers of summoning an authority! Shout at me if any of this is an issue, or for edits Reenie. More post coming in a few days, so if you want a reaction to this, throw it up soon-ish]

It was on mornings like this, more than ever, that he felt his age. Charles was more than aware that he was keeping himself awake through sheer determination, and would likely have to continue to do so during the day. A paltry few hours sleep after Fury had finally managed to make his way off the premises despite his little confrontation with Logan on the way out- Logan had been fishing, but he would have got far better results if he had simply come to Charles- and a restless night spent scanning the grounds at intervals.

They had been taken by surprise. A number of surprises, in fact. He wondered just how much the children had put together. Strange, after everything, that he still thought of most of them as children; he did not include Logan in that. Jean either for that matter. No telepath could ever truly claim the innocence of a child.

But they were in so many ways, still children. The world was spread between clearly divided black and white ethical questions, and there were the powerful father-figures who would drive away the nightmares that went bump in the night, who always had a plan. He used that, of course he did, because he could not justify not using it. Filling that role for them, even providing them someone to rebel against while remaining true to their ideals and principles, all of it was simply filling the role the children needed someone to fill.

There were times, however, when they could not afford to be children. This was one of them.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he studied his students, assembled in front of him. They were tired, of course, but they had held up against the pressure of last night well, even with their unanswered questions in their eyes. Some of them knew pieces of what was going on, and could put it together with other pieces. Piotr, and Ororo knew firsthand, and of course, children talked, as he would expect them too, but he wondered idly just how many had made the connection between the incident with Jean, and the attack last night. They would all understand, superficially at least, in a moment- there was no need for this secret and he would not let them be torn apart by unnecessary secrets- so there was no need to speculate.

“It is good to see everyone has made it this morning,” he began calmly, studying them all, “I will be direct however; I understand that you would all like to know what happened last night.”

It would be interesting to see who had put what together, with the information they had. Useful for spotting potential that he had somehow overlooked, seeing who was beginning to grasp the tactical and strategic concepts of what he was doing, and what others were doing in response.

“Those men were sent by a group known as the Hellfire Club,” he said calmly, tone changing not at all. “The information Rogue learnt has proved invaluable. I’m sure the name is familiar to some of you,”

Pausing for a moment he continued “For those it is not, pay close attention. My efforts here had been funded, for the larger part, by a group known as the Hellfire Club- made up exclusively of the rich, and the powerful- who wished to ensure safety for mutants. Their goals seemingly matched mine, and, as the aphorism states, any port will do in a storm.” Nodding to Piotr, and Ororo, he continued “Some time ago, we visited them, Ororo, Piotr, Jean and I, where things were revealed to be not as they seemed.” One of his greatest oversights was not discovering their true intent in time to prevent what had come. The damage to Jean had been horrific, but the fallout was quite obviously still continuing.

“The Club’s goal was Jean. For reasons known only to them they believed her a…a vessel, a host for something with enormous power, which they referred to as the Phoenix force,” Closing his eyes briefly, Xavier marshaled himself. He had to phrase this appropriately; they all knew that something had happened that night, of that he was sure, but the specifics were often distorted by retellings.

“They were mistaken, and during the course of their activities, they died,” he said calmly, voice steady. He would not destroy Jean’s position in this team; she was controlled now. None of them needed to be worried.

They did not need to concern themselves with Jean. He would do that.

[Dazzler]

Ali, surprising as it might have been for several of the other students, was seated in nearly the first row of this weirdass excuse for a classroom, if you could call sprawling with her legs over the desk in front of her, boots crossed one over the other, and her head tucked back against her hands 'seated'. But from her point of view, it made sense. For one thing, it hadn't involved climbing any stairs to get up to, and for another, it was the closest to the door, which was exactly where she was heading as soon as she got half a chance. Sure, Baldy was paying the bills now, but if she'd wanted to listen to teachers lecturing, she would have stayed in High School instead of getting a life, right?

Damn right.

Nevertheless, since she was at least half interested in what the fuck the Jason-squad last night had been doing to ruin her Monday night out, Ali listened to the long-ass explanation Baldy was giving with at least tolerable levels of attention, and didn't even yawn until right near the very end when he started going all Fantasy mystical Dungeons and Dragons power on them. She actually - although no one else might have realised, given that she spent most of the speech with her eyes closed, head turned up to the ceiling - had a go at figuring out what the hell it was that their wheeled-overseer was saying.

So rich white crazy guy had a circler of richer whiter and apparently crazier (come on, obsessing over Super-Barbie like she was hot shit? Serious nutjob territory) guys backing him, only for whatever reason (and Ali hadn't bothered with any of that part, given that it had all sounded lamer than Good Charlotte vs. N'Sync or whatever the fuck piece of shit it was topping the charts this week) they were dead. Only they weren't, and they were still trying to kill them all to kill Super-Barbie.

Yeah, evil geniuses, all of them. That plan was obviously going to get them right to the world domination part.

"Nice story," she commented, not bothering to sit up or move her head off the nice cushion her hands had made, "Total drama and mystic suspense, even if it is ripping the hell off of Angel," Not that she watched that program, obviously... it was just... good for drinking games, but come on, vessels and hosts and 'enormous power'? Joss Whedon should be suing. "...but where the fuck do we come into it?" She sat up a bit, tilting her head to get a better view of shiny bald and looking pretty closely at him, to see if she could get a read on whatever random shit was going through his head to drag them all out of bed for this. "They died, we owned the Jason-squad last night, Jean's not an empty vessel-" Yeah, like she was going to believe that one "- case closed. When's the wrap-up party?"

[Beast]

Next to the medical and science laboratories located in the Institute's labyrinthine sub-basement levels, the classrooms were where Hank felt most comfortable. It was a highly congenial setting to one of his tirelessly inquisitive, academic temperament. Even when summoned there by the Professor for a briefing on matters at best only tangentially related to the continuing education of his students, there was something distinctly comforting in the lectern and rows of terraced seating. Perhaps especially at such times.

As much out of force of habit as any conscious decision on his part, Hank assumed his accustomed place in the central chair of the middle aisle as soon as he had arrived. He listened intently as Xavier delineated in brief the series of events which had precipitated the attack upon the Mansion the previous evening, his expression carefully neutral. Although he had known something of the Hellfire Club's involvement with the school, and their interest in Jean in particular, this knowledge was primarily based upon bits and pieces of overheard conversation from various of the concerned parties. It was therefore something of a revelation to have the entire matter laid bare before them in this manner, even if Hank was quite certain that the Professor had deliberately chosen to omit certain details in his somewhat cursory summary of the situation.

He wondered with a momentary twinge of discomfort if their mentor and de facto guardian would have chosen to disclose even that much, had yesterday's armed incursion into their home not forced his hand. But that particular question was probably not a constructive area for speculation, at this point.

Ali, of course, was not nearly so discreet in withholding her own dissatisfaction. Of course, in her refreshingly linear idiom, she seemed far less concerned with the possible implications of Xavier's previous silence on his dealings with the Hellfire Club than the fact that their successful repulsion of the intruders would have seemed, at a glance, to render the entire subject moot. While Hank could understand her blase indifference to the whole fiasco, he was not nearly so prepared to accept that their apparent victory would not have wider-ranging consequences of a potentially disastrous nature.

He did, however, find himself having to choke back a quiet laugh at Ali's "empty vessel" comment. Whether deliberate or not, it was probably just as well that Jean had not been present to overhear it. Hank could not imagine that the results would have been pretty.

"If I may," he spoke up at last. "While I agree that a frontal assault by paramilitary zealots would seem on the surface to be a desperate act, to be undertaken only by persons too obdurate to acknowledge the inevitability of their own defeat, I do believe that last night's incident necessitates an increased level of prudence on our parts. The resources needed to martial and equip such a militia as we encountered, and the logistical requirements of fielding such a force, however ineffectual they proved in attaining their objective, must be staggering. I do not think it would be wise to discount our adversaries just yet. If they are capable of dispatching a small army to our very doorstep, then there are certainly other avenues of attack open to them. Avenues more subtle, and quite possibly far more damaging."

[Nightcrawler]

Usually Nightcrawler would bamf into his seat on the far side of the room but considering last night, and the fact that he didn't want to waste energy before a work out in the danger room, he just walked quietly over to his seat- crouching on it as was his usual posture with chairs.

He nodded to Hank with a smile and would have done so to Ali if she hadn't looked so 'closed in.' Ali peaked his interest in a way, simply because he admired the way she could positively terrify some people. At this point, considering he'd never really spoken to her alone before, he really didn't know if he would survive a one on one encounter with her. Kurt laughed to himself- he made it sound like she was a Great White or something. Thank God for inner monologues.

Right time to focus on the Professor. The atmosphere felt so serious it made him fidgety, and although the Prof was trying to reassure them of the situation, he couldn't help but think there had to be something else. For it to all be so cloak-and-dagger for so long... what if the Professor was just glazing over a few parts? Giving the bear minimum?

Kurt checked himself, looking away guiltily as Xavier talked. He didn't want a stray thought leaking out and get himself labelled as a doubter. He was the faith guy; sometimes you just have to go alone with things even though you don't understand them.

"I do not think it would be wise to discount our adversaries just yet. If they are capable of dispatching a small army to our very doorstep, then there are certainly other avenues of attack open to them. Avenues more subtle, and quite possibly far more damaging."

Kurt was usually just a listener but he had to add something.

"They came here with the intention of killing us while trying to get to Jean, right? But it backfired and... we ended up the killers. Forgive me if I seem to be sentimental, but that's not how I pictured defending the reputation of mutant kind. Shouldn't we... We should do more training not only in defense but in..." he searched for the word for a brief second, "in incapacitating these 'adversaries.' Like... without the death part."

Kurt truly felt that even if people deserved to die it wasn't anyone's choice on earth to end that life, it was up to a higher power. He wasn't about to divulge that he'd prayed for the dead the night before though, he had a feeling that some people might rip him to shreds over that one.

[Rogue]

The Professor looked like shit. This was the first thing Rogue noticed and she didn't take it as a very good sign. 'Course, after last night, they pretty much all looked like - and felt like, she imagined - shit. She did. It was hard not to, and there was gonna be a long day ahead yet. But...

This was something else, she thought, leaning forward from her seat midway toward the left side of the classroom, chin resting in her palms and brows creased. She knew that look. Her momma'd got it that time her Uncle Don brought the stripper home for Thanksgiving dinner with the family. The Professor was just better at not making it so obvious.

She stayed quiet through the Professor's explanation - working on matching it to the stuff she'd picked up from the Hellfire Club guy yesterday, but she had a harder time not laughing at Ali's comments about the Jean. She managed, but barely. Nor did she say anything as Hank spoke up, then Kurt.

The blue-furred mutant's words had her glancing over at him, brow creasing further. Not in disapproval. More like in confusion. Kinda the same way she'd felt about what Piotr said the day before, while she was trying not to die. Fact was, some of them at least were killers. Not by choice, maybe, but they still were. She was.

Maybe there were other ways. She hoped there were, and that was part of the reason she'd come here. To try to find them. But, if it came down to her or them, it wasn't gonna be her if she could help it.

Still, that wasn't really what was nagging at her. Not right now. Rogue kept coming back to something the Professor'd said, and then to something Hank had said. 'Avenues more subtle'. She could see how what Kurt was saying would fit into that part...but there was something different swirling around in her head. If she could just make it make sense.

"Wait," she interrupted, features schooled into a puzzled frown. "So, the guys that tried to turn Jean into this Phoenix thing, and who're trying kill us now, used to fund this place? Til they all died?" Pausing for a second, she shook her head, still confused. "But they're not dead..." Trailing off, her lashes lifted and Rogue tilted her head. "Was this attack really some kinda setup, then? And what happened to the funding, after they died, or whatever? Where's that come from now? 'Cause, like Hank said, looks to me like these guys got a lotta money, and a lotta power, still. Or again. Where've they been all this time, and what've they been up to?"

[Angel]

Warren was feeling decidedly grouchy today. Not only had he gotten the crap kicked out of him last night, for which he had a fantastic headache at the moment and for the forseeable future... but he'd awakened to a giant...

Well, a giant mountain of poop in his toilet.

There was nothing quite like waking up with a migraine the size of Alaska, staggering into the bathroom trying to tuck in his wings so they didn't snag on any of the damnable doors in the place, and stumbling to the toilet in the hopes that he might take a peaceful leak... and uncovering a pile of someone else's poop.

And it wasn't just normal poop. The minute he'd seen it (in retrospect, he should've smelled it first, but he'd been distracted and maybe not breathing from the severity of the Need To Pee, so he'd missed it somehow), he'd started choking. Warren was not one to lift the lid and check his own leavings out. In fact, he usually flushed it pretty fast... sometimes even during. Like a courtesy flush... but as a courtesy to like... himself.

But whoever the hell had used this bathroom-- the SPECIALLY DESIGNED bathroom X had so recently installed with a larger shower that would fit his wings just right, not to mention toilet that wouldn't get his feathers all clammy from that back-of-the-seat condensation most toilets had-- had left him a big old present. A present he had NOT needed. He hadn't even tried to flush it-- he'd just staggered out into the hall in his boxer briefs and taken a piss somewhere else.

He really hoped it'd been a bathroom. Come to think of it, he wasn't exactly sure.

But that was beside the point!! Someone had left Turd Mountain in his john. And he'd be goddamned if he was gonna scale that sucker-- SOMEONE was going to flush it for him, cause he wasn't going back in there alone.

Someone was gonna pay.

Of course, listening to the Professor talk about this weird sounding Hellfire Club thing that had supported him for so long kinda took his mind off his crapper. He really had to wonder why, exactly, Professor Xavier thought it was a good idea to allow people called HELLFIRE to fund him. Hell. Fire. That wasn't supposed to be a good thing, right? Seemed like common sense to him...

Then again, Warren had been told he didn't have much in the way of common sense. So maybe he was wrong.

Anyhow, he just kept his mouth shut while the others asked questions. And kept looking around surreptitiously to try and figure out who looked like they'd given birth to a little brown baby boy in his pot last night. Who could it be...?

"Nice story," [Ali] commented, not bothering to sit up or move her head off the nice cushion her hands had made, "Total drama and mystic suspense, even if it is ripping the hell off of Angel... but where the fuck do we come into it? They died, we owned the Jason-squad last night, Jean's not an empty vessel ... case closed. When's the wrap-up party?"

... Good point. Not that it wasn't nice to know a little more background but... so what?

And why did Rogue look like she thought that was kinda funny?

"If I may," [Hank] spoke up at last. "While I agree that a frontal assault by paramilitary zealots would seem on the surface to be a desperate act, to be undertaken only by persons too obdurate to acknowledge the inevitability of their own defeat, I do believe that last night's incident necessitates an increased level of prudence on our parts. The resources needed to martial and equip such a militia as we encountered, and the logistical requirements of fielding such a force, however ineffectual they proved in attaining their objective, must be staggering. I do not think it would be wise to discount our adversaries just yet. If they are capable of dispatching a small army to our very doorstep, then there are certainly other avenues of attack open to them. Avenues more subtle, and quite possibly far more damaging."

Warren was fairly certain that could be boiled down to, "They could be back, and maybe this time they won't come through the front door." But he thought there was something in there about the "Jason Squad" having a lot of money/power/resources as well. Sometimes with Hank, he really felt the need to ask some more questions... but maybe someone else would do it and save him from having to look stupid...

And really, that didn't do much to explain why they'd come back for them. Or did it... and he was just too preoccupied with visions of the Pile waiting for him in his bathroom to catch it.

The very thought made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Ugh... just... gross.

"They came here with the intention of killing us while trying to get to Jean, right? But it backfired and... we ended up the killers. Forgive me if I seem to be sentimental, but that's not how I pictured defending the reputation of mutant kind. Shouldn't we... We should do more training not only in defense but in..." he searched for the word for a brief second, "in incapacitating these 'adversaries.' Like... without the death part."

Oh. So... they were talking about taking the initiative here? Well that much Warren could understand. But... well he had a huge bump on his head to prove just how NOT ready for that eventuality he was. He was hoping he wouldn't have to point that out to anyone...

"Wait," [Rogue] interrupted, features schooled into a puzzled frown. "So, the guys that tried to turn Jean into this Phoenix thing, and who're trying kill us now, used to fund this place? Til they all died?" Pausing for a second, she shook her head, still confused. "But they're not dead..." Trailing off, her lashes lifted and Rogue tilted her head. "Was this attack really some kinda setup, then? And what happened to the funding, after they died, or whatever? Where's that come from now? 'Cause, like Hank said, looks to me like these guys got a lotta money, and a lotta power, still. Or again. Where've they been all this time, and what've they been up to?"

Okay, that was right about where Warren was with this. Or at least, that's what he decided once Rogue had finished. He sat up a little straighter and nodded. Then tossed his hair out of his eyes. Stupid hair...

He cast his eyes over the room one more time to try and find his culprit. And was suddenly struck by an idea.

//Sorry about that. But Drake IS gonna pay for leaving that mystery cheese in Warren's bathroom, yo.//

[Xavier]

Their reactions were almost exactly as he expected. Alison, of course, was the most…vituperative, unsurprisingly. Unfortunately, apart from a few pop culture references that Charles was sure went right over his head, her analysis of the events she was now aware of was superficial at best. To put it bluntly, she missed the point.

"They died, we owned the Jason-squad last night, Jean's not an empty vessel-" Yeah, like she was going to believe that one "- case closed. When's the wrap-up party?"

Charles quirked an eyebrow at that. Even for Alison, the contempt coming off that thought was significant. Charles didn’t bother answering immediately, using this impromptu briefing as a test of his students analytical ability was about the only way to turn this into a productive period. Every time he sent them out, every time he put them in violence’s way, he was shockingly reminded of how young they were. They’d learnt so much, but there was so much more to be taught.

"If I may," [Hank] spoke up at last. "While I agree that a frontal assault by paramilitary zealots would seem on the surface to be a desperate act, to be undertaken only by persons too obdurate to acknowledge the inevitability of their own defeat, I do believe that last night's incident necessitates an increased level of prudence on our parts. The resources needed to martial and equip such a militia as we encountered, and the logistical requirements of fielding such a force, however ineffectual they proved in attaining their objective, must be staggering. I do not think it would be wise to discount our adversaries just yet. If they are capable of dispatching a small army to our very doorstep, then there are certainly other avenues of attack open to them. Avenues more subtle, and quite possibly far more damaging."

“Well done Hank,” Charles murmured, nodding at the boy. Last night’s operation demonstrated access to significant resources- Hank was certainly the only student capable of giving the street price of a telepathic inhibitor on the scale of what their invaders had utilized. It was a sign that the kind of wealth that had provided them with their transportation was still intact, which was not what Xavier had believed to be the case.

Kurt however, seemed to be troubled by something else entirely. "They came here with the intention of killing us while trying to get to Jean, right? But it backfired and... we ended up the killers. Forgive me if I seem to be sentimental, but that's not how I pictured defending the reputation of mutant kind. Shouldn't we... We should do more training not only in defense but in..." he searched for the word for a brief second, "in incapacitating these 'adversaries.' Like... without the death part."

Making a note to speak to Kurt on an individual basis at a later point in time, Charles said “Perhaps I should take this moment to mention how proud of your actions last night,” sliding along the edge of Kurt’s subject. “Your training has clearly paid off, and you all handled yourselves well, even you Warren” he added, since the boy seemed a little…disturbed by something this morning and the images his brain was exuding were quite curious. Looking over at Kurt, he continued “You took steps to protect yourselves, and others, and even more, you have just demonstrated that you are not a killer. A killer does not feel guilt.”

Rogue returned to the issue and hand, and Xavier noted with a slight smile that she had reached a similar conclusion to Hank and himself.

"Wait," she interrupted, features schooled into a puzzled frown. "So, the guys that tried to turn Jean into this Phoenix thing, and who're trying kill us now, used to fund this place? Til they all died?" Pausing for a second, she shook her head, still confused. "But they're not dead..." Trailing off, her lashes lifted and Rogue tilted her head. "Was this attack really some kinda setup, then? And what happened to the funding, after they died, or whatever? Where's that come from now? 'Cause, like Hank said, looks to me like these guys got a lotta money, and a lotta power, still. Or again. Where've they been all this time, and what've they been up to?"

“That Rogue, is yet to be discovered,” Charles said. “I’m sure you noticed our SHIELD guests this morning, removing our unfortunate visitors,” He didn’t continue, leaving the implied SHIELD responsibility the most obvious arrangement. He would be mounting his own investigation of course. An agreement with Nick Fury was one thing, but an attack on his school was another.

It was interesting to note that none of them seemed to have pursued the information he had given them through to it’s logical conclusion, although hot blood could easily be blamed for that. Few young people’s first thoughts in an adrenaline rush were of finance. Perhaps it was better if they knew nothing of Jean’s interference with the Club’s finances.

“Unfortunately, the demise of the original group has placed the school in a difficult financial situation,” he said delicately. They need not worry themselves about the financial attacks. “Necessity has driven me to something that might be familiar to some of the more longstanding residents of the school, but with a few changes. I am reviving class assignments,”

Pressing on, he continued “I will be assigning you too groups, for the duration of the project, and you will be graded on your performance.” Leaning back, he regarded them all, stating “Your goal is to make as much money as possible”

[Shadowcat]

Kitty was glad Jean hadn't been home for the attack. The last thing her friend needed was this while she was trying to help Scott through the whole mess with Alex. Although, one never knew, it might have pulled Scott out of his funk, but it was pressure Jean didn’t really need. –So By the way, these guys showed up and wrecked the house trying to find and kill you because they think you’re a vessel and responsible for a great many deaths.

No, better off not even saying anything. Let the professor handle it with Jean. She was extremely glad, though, that they’d kicked some ass.

“Unfortunately, the demise of the original group has placed the school in a difficult financial situation,” he said delicately. They need not worry themselves about the financial attacks. “Necessity has driven me to something that might be familiar to some of the more longstanding residents of the school, but with a few changes. I am reviving class assignments,”

Pressing on, he continued “I will be assigning you too groups, for the duration of the project, and you will be graded on your performance.” Leaning back, he regarded them all, stating “Your goal is to make as much money as possible”

Oh, no. You could try and dress it up all pretty, make it sound like fun, but Kitty knew what that meant. Her mother had tried the same thing when they'd moved into the apartment and had gone on about how it was like a trial run for when she would one day move out and live on her own and would be responsible for her own things.

It wasn't something they'd have to do if not for unique situations...like living in a closet and having no income beyond her mothers...but it was the way things were and they'd just have to do it.

And here it was again.

"In other words we're broke and have to pull our own weight." Which meant she would now have to pay for her clothes again. There went the shopping spree she had been planning on taking once Ro and Jean got back. They were always good for a decent shopping spree and now they'd have to actually go out and earn money for it.

And probably fund the mansion itself as well.

Which really sucked.

She would suggest to go beg parents, but whose parents (out of those who had them) could honestly afford anything? Or even if they could, why would they? Part of the draw that their kids would be taken in and taken care of. Her mother had definitely found that attractive. “Does this mean we have to go get jobs at like the mall or something?”

Because if she had to give up her internship for a job folding clothes and following people into dressing rooms to make sure they didn’t steal she was going to have to go hurt some more people.

[Beast]

Hank could not help but feel a slight rush of satisfaction at the Professor's praise, however mild. It might have been of a piece with the larger state of insecurity which had plagued him through most of his life, but if the thrill were not entirely unimpeachable at its most basic level, then at least it was harmless. Besides, it was nice to have his position as class overachiever reaffirmed every now and again by someone with the breadth of experience to credibly evaluate such things. Not that Hank required so base a commodity as external validation in order to function; not in the least. It was simply . . . nice. That was all.

He listened as others added their own input, nodding along with Kurt and his pacifistic concerns. The prospect of deliberately doing harm to another human being held no pleasure at all for Hank; if nothing else, his time with Weapon X had taught him that there was almost nothing worth the personal cost attendant upon ending another's life. And while most of the training regimens set up by Xavier and Scott were decidedly non-lethal in their emphasis, it couldn't possibly hurt to stress that terminal measures were only to be considered as the very last resort.

Rogue, of course, was quite pragmatic in her line of inquiry. Which would probably have been an extremely useful tack to adopt, if the Professor were not notorious for his skill at evading any and all questions he deemed inconvenient. A skill which he applied without hesitation in answering the Southern girl. It was possible, of course, that Xavier truly didn't know anything about the reconstituted Hellfire Club, but Hank found that possibility exceedingly unlikely. The Professor was a man who always knew more than he let on about any given situation. Always. And full disclosure would have ruined his seemingly-omniscient mystique.

At the prospect of a new round of class assignments, the furry blue scholar perked noticeably in his seat. This reaction, however, lasted the all of two seconds it took Hank to realized just what a non sequitur Xavier's sudden divergence of topic really was. What could class assignments possibly have to do with the Hellfire Club, or the Institutes finances?

“I will be assigning you too groups, for the duration of the project, and you will be graded on your performance.” Leaning back, [Xavier] regarded them all, stating “Your goal is to make as much money as possible”

A look of total bewilderment passed over Hank's simian face, and his heart sank slightly in his massive chest. He was no stranger to the urgency of everyday economic concerns. Having left his parents' and the loveless home they had created as soon as he had been capable of doing so, Hank was no stranger to the need to earn a daily wage--and the value of leaving one's sense of personal discrimination at the door while doing so. Even so . . .

He waited until Kitty had concluded voicing her own objections before saying, "Pardon me, Professor, but I believe that Kitty raises a valid point. I have no objection to pulling my own substantial weight, as it were, in order to ensure that the Institute remains fiscally solvent, but is it really appropriate to attempt to pass this unfortunate necessity off as an academic exercise? It strikes me as somewhat disingenuous. To say nothing of mercenary."

[Dazzler]

Of course, after she'd done the hard work, and broken the silence, every man and his blue furry friend had to jump in with their own takes on the situation. Ali wasn't too bothered, even if most of them seemed to think they were shooting her down like mafia hit men. Whatever, man - like the details had ever been important in anything other than the exact timing of the notes in Dream On. Apart from Rogue hitting on the freakyness of taking money from someone who apparently had wanted to kill you all along or something, and the smaller blue kid not liking the part where they'd killed people, it was all so much talk for so little action. At some godfucking early hour of the morning.

Ali's only further contribution to the discussion was a rather large yawn, as she folded her hands across her chest and started to run through the chords for Dazzler's newest song. That was a useful way to spend her time, at least.

“Unfortunately, the demise of the original group has placed the school in a difficult financial situation,” he said delicately. They need not worry themselves about the financial attacks. “Necessity has driven me to something that might be familiar to some of the more longstanding residents of the school, but with a few changes. I am reviving class assignments,” said the Prof, and Ali's eyes flew open again as she stared at him. Class... assignments? The fuck? “I will be assigning you too groups, for the duration of the project, and you will be graded on your performance.” Leaning back, he regarded them all, stating “Your goal is to make as much money as possible”

Quickly as it had appeared, Ali's outraged look of disbelief disappeared, replaced by a wide grin. Make as much money as possible? Now that was an assignment she could get behind. Learning as its own fucking reward.

Of course, another of the geeks had to break her growing good mood just about straight off, didn't they? "In other words we're broke and have to pull our own weight." Ali rolled her eyes to herself at the kid's interruption (because duhhh... talk about stating the fucking obvious) “Does this mean we have to go get jobs at like the mall or something?” Second time round, it was a snigger that Ali made an only semi-successful effort to hold back. Yeah... the mall... that was going to be the definition of 'as much money as possible'. These geeks had no clue, did they?

"Pardon me, Professor, but I believe that Kitty raises a valid point. I have no objection to pulling my own substantial weight, as it were, in order to ensure that the Institute remains fiscally solvent, but is it really appropriate to attempt to pass this unfortunate necessity off as an academic exercise? It strikes me as somewhat disingenuous. To say nothing of mercenary."

From her seat at the front, Ali rolled her eyes as yet another X-geek started in on the caving at the sound of a little dirty work. "Right, because skimming money off a bunch of rich fucks who like trying to kill you, that's totally dis-..dis..." she trailed off on that word, before changing tack quickly, "...not mercenary." Mercenary meant 'doing it for money', right? So yeah, of course it was. So was however they'd used to get their money. Sooner or later... everything was. As for what the other thing he'd said meant... she had no fucking clue. But either way you looked at it, it had to add up to 'I talk big game but when it comes to the crunch point of sucking it up and getting things done, I chicken out'. Slowing it all down by talking things to death wasn't about to get their money back, any time soon.

"If you're not going to step up to the mike, why raise your voice?" she asked, leaning her head backwards until the furry blue face of Elmo appeared, upside-down, in her vision. Honestly, these people lived in the freaky cripple's house, wore his pornographic uniforms, ran around fighting whoever he told them... and they started to quibble because he'd asked them to get a real job? Ali might not have had a brain that worked at ten times normal speed, like Elmo or even the kid, but even she could see that they were missing the important point, here.

She hadn't, though, and so she tilted her head back, looking toward Professor Creepy with an expression that might have been called vaguely thoughtful if it hadn't appeared on a face that contained enough metal to make a good start on a chainmail vest. "So what do we get if we win, then?" she asked baldly.

[Iceman]

Ugh.

Bobby made with the subterfuge--sorta--and slipped inside the room, making with the sneakity as he tried to be as unnoticed as possible while he found a--sigh--seat.Too bad he couldn't make like Kurt and just squat.

No, no squatting.

"Squatting" was a bad word.

Forever.

In his efforts to Be As The Classroom Ninja, he only caught part of the conversation, something about having to fund-raise. And not like Bake-Sale fund-raise, like Presidential Campaign fund-raise.

Two Words.

Make Money.

Something deep inside, something that was just a tiny blossom of a future love, something accounting-ish thrilled. It fluttered happily for just a few heartbeats. Suddenly, a dozen ideas flooded his re-hydrated brain, exciting ideas, ideas that made his stomach flip-flop with delight.

It could have been gas through.

Leftover woe from earlier.

He almost voiced his concern, when he was suddenly reminded of something as he stared at the back of Warren Big Feathery Charmin-Like wings.Well, far be it from him to leave a floater and not own it, that broke a guy law or something. "Sorry about your bathroom, War." He whispered, kinda loudly, and patted Warren between the shoulder blades, "Bad Cheese."

[Nightcrawler]

“Perhaps I should take this moment to mention how proud of your actions last night,” sliding along the edge of Kurt’s subject. “Your training has clearly paid off, and you all handled yourselves well, even you Warren” he added, since the boy seemed a little…disturbed by something this morning and the images his brain was exuding were quite curious. Looking over at Kurt, he continued “You took steps to protect yourselves, and others, and even more, you have just demonstrated that you are not a killer. A killer does not feel guilt.”

Kurt held Xavier's gaze for a minute but then looked away, still at conflict with himself but reassured somewhat. He shuffled in his seat uneasily and pretended to be really interested in the seat in front.

However he was soon quickly distracted (he REALLY had to work on that) by Xavier's further talk.

“I will be assigning you too groups, for the duration of the project, and you will be graded on your performance.” Leaning back, he regarded them all, stating “Your goal is to make as much money as possible”


Everyone immediately voiced their concerns over this but a flood gate had been opened in Kurt's mind and he could barely contain his excitement. Kurt leapt up punching the air with both fists, standing on his chair. "CIRCUS!" He screamed, just as Bobby 'covertly' slid into the room.

When the rush of screaming one of his favourite words had passed, he brushed himself down and slid back down into a crouching seat trying to keep cool about things. "Yeah... a group of us should do a circus....type thing....i think. That would be cool. People pay money to be entertained- and i've got a ton of experience."

Kurt hit on a few more ideas, voicing them aloud to no one in particular. "We could get away with doing loaaaads of stuff using our powers and pretending its magic. Like Kitty- you could do the disappearing act one by just phasing through a prop or something. And Ali you're pretty sweet with music right? Hey Warren back home i totally did this Angel and Demon's acrobatic skit- we could really do that!" Kurt rubbed his hands together in excitement, but then stopped, looking up at Xavier.

"Hey wait... what groups are we in, Professor?"