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        Ororo gave the country girl an understanding nod before turning back around to face Dalisay. The elegant woman gave her a small, apologetic smile, before motioning for Dalisay to join the two of them.

        "Dalisay, this is Anna Marie," Ororo told her, placing a hand on Anna Marie's shoulder and squeezing gently. She seemed to be quite friendly with the more rural girl, but in a mature, motherly fashion. Ms. Munroe had a motherly persona, really, protective like a lion over her cubs, but caring all the same. 

        "Just call me Rogue, darlin'." She told Dalisay in a sugary sweet tone, pursing her dewy, glossed lips into a smile. "It's real nice 'ta meet ya."

        Dalisay returned the greeting with a slight nod of the head, unsure whether to trust this sickly-sweet seemingly charming rural girl. For all Dalisay knew Rogue was a trained assassin who had the ability to mirror any dialect and appearance she wished, coming off as anyone and everyone to particular people. It was certainly possible. With mutants there was barely anything you could rule out upon first impression unless you were a telepath or something, which Dalisay was not.

        "I gotta get to class now, but I'll talk to y'all in a bit." Rogue explained hastily before raising a gloved hand in a wave, and heading off down the corridor . Why did she wear gloves in the middle of spring? Maybe her ability had something to do with her hands, or touching people.

        "Dalisay, I apologize for rushing you, as I'm sure how tired you must be from your journey, but we must go see the Professor now. I'm sorry for the delay, I merely had to...discuss something with a colleague of mine."

        "Who is he?" The question spurts out of her mouth before Dalisay could realize how utterly nosy she must have sounded to the woman beside her. "I mean...I'm not trying to get into your business..." She added quickly, making the situation even more awkward.

        However, Ms. Munroe did not stray away from the question at all. "The man I was speaking to is Logan." She paused momentarily, as if debating what she'd say next. "He, as many others do here, goes by another name. Wolverine is his."

        Why was he called a wolverine? He didn't resemble one in the slightest, although he was hairy. Dalisay felt the tight strain of curiosity, but willed herself to stay quiet. She'd already crossed a line, and she didn't need to overstep her place here, if she even had one.

        She'd been here less than an hour, after all.
 
        Ororo led Dalisay down another, twisting hall, the paneling gradually becoming a darker shade of wood, and the halls growing quiet, the only sounds being their breathing and the treading of their feet against the now marble floor. A door, which resembled the paneling so much that Dalisay hadn't even noticed it, opened abruptly, and a man wearing a worn leather jacket and tinted red sunglasses stepped out, giving Ms. Munroe a nod before making his way down the hall. Ororo turned to watch his fleeting image as he turned the corner, and then went back to face Dalisay, who couldn't help but wonder if the two of them, Ms. Munroe and the man with the tinted sunglasses, were romantically involved. They were probably sleeping together and the guy didn't want it to be known amongst the teachers or something. But Ororo seemed like a classy lady, too regal for something as foolish as a one-night stand. Maybe he was her best friend, and she was in love with him, but she didn't want to ruin their friendship. It was laughable, at the amount of time Dalisay spent dreaming up these crazy stories when it seemed like the whole world wanted her dead. Even in the darkest of hours, there was always time for love stories.
 
        Ororo led Dalisay into large the room behind the paneled door, with it's forest green wallpaper and cozy decorations, it reminded Dalisay of a study in a fancy ski lodge, not a room in a school in upstate New York. A few paintings hung on the walls, their vibrant strokes and lively greens depicting forests and mountainous landscapes of the West. A desk, transparent monitor, and throngs of bookshelves sat along the opposite wall, across from the fireplace and seating area. A bald, handicapped man sat, in an expensive looking wheelchair, by the mantel place, reading from what seemed to be Gulliver's Travels. 

        "Professor Xavier?" Ms. Munroe called, her accented words interrupting the surprisingly calming silence around them. The man looked up, giving Ororo a fatherly, welcoming smile.

        "I knew you'd come in, Ororo." He said with a slight chuckle. "Accompanied by Miss Faust, nonetheless." The Professor looked at Dalisay with knowing eyes, but they were lined with what looked like the weight of a thousand worlds. "Welcome to our school."

        It suprised Dalisay to hear him say 'our'. He was the owner, hell, it even had his name in the name. 

        "I apologize for keeping you waiting, Professor." Ms. Munroe told him quietly, her tone growing softer now. 

        "I know you were speaking with Logan, so there is no need to apologize, my dear, although I know Miss Faust must have been quite anxious." With that Professor Xavier turned to Dalisay, his eyes smiling although his lips did not.  "How are you, Miss Faust?"

        "Um..." Dalisay shrugged, unsure how to respond. "Well, I guess. I mean, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

        "Living in the physical sense and living in the physiological sense are two very different things, I assure you." The professor explained, taking a sip from his porcelain teacup. "But here, we will nuture all of your senses, Dalisay, even those you have yet to discover." He paused, and began pouring the steaming, cloudy tea into another empty teacup. "For students are teachers, and teachers, students."

        Ororo's lips curled into a smile, agreeing with the statement. "We are all students of yours, Professor." 

        "And you all, teachers of mine." Professor Xavier replied, looking up from the cups in front of him. He looked at Dalisay tenderly, and cleared his throat before he continued. "Miss Faust, have you any questions before I begin explaining?"

        "Just one." Dalisay answered immediately. It was the one thing that had been bugging her since he'd called, those weeks ago, when she thought she was so alone in the world.

"How did you know about me?"

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