So, really, Booker couldn’t get too mad at his sister for his choice in friends. Then again, the same could be said about her. Considering her recent dalliance with Spencer, the last thing that Nessa had the right to do was judge him on the company that he kept. But, in a lot of ways, he could understand where she was coming from. Rebecca Grey was not a wholesome name to have around the Bookman home. Nessa had really fallen for the redhead and, to be honest, Booker thought that the two of them were good together. Then it came to past that his sister was not whom Rebecca wanted to be with.

He should have been mad. Bookman pride was on the line so he should he cut the young Scot out of his life and never looked back. Unfortunately, the other side of this story was that Booker was a hopeless romantic. Years of reading the classic stories and falling in love with certain tropes had given Booker a kind of hope when it came to love. When he heard heard Rebecca’s side of the story, about her true love for Agnes, well, how could he stay mad at her? Did he agree with what she did? No. Was he upset to see his sister hurt? Yes. But at the end of the day, he was at least thankful that she didn’t string her along into marriage and beyond.

Still, it would have been better if she had ended things with his sister before they got as serious as they did.

But, despite all of it, despite the heartache and the manhood melting gaze that Nessa would toss at him every now and again, Booker actually remained friends with Rebecca. They chatted on occasion, even had ideas for a few video to collaborate on for her channel, and still found time to hang out on occasion. Booker was of the mind that everyone deserved a second chance and so long as the redhead didn’t go sniffing around his sister again, they could be good.

And, at the end of the day, she was frickin’ cool. Booker made his own friends, just like Nessa made hers.

Today was a particularly strong display of friendship. Rebecca was supposed to be setting up some costume for one reason. Of course she decided to go with Superior Girl, however she was lacking one of the most important ingredients – a cape. To whom else would she turn other than the man who had his very own Superior Man cape that could be utilized? The only catch was that Rebecca couldn’t make it to the Bookman apartment to pick up at any time that Nessa wouldn’t be there and Booker would have been too busy at work for her to drop by there.

No, he needed to head to her…at work…

He was a little excited…

”OH MY GOD I’M TOTALLY STANDING HERE AT MUTANT HIGH!! SQUEEEEE!!!”

Okay. He was a lot-tle excited.

Though Booker and Rebecca had become friends, and he knew where she worked, he had never asked to be shown around. They weren’t as close as all that yet, then when she and his sister broke up, it hardly seemed appropriate. Of course now that he was dating someone else who worked here, he probably could have made it a point to visit, but he didn’t want to pester Juliette with such things. Besides, this would be the perfect cover.

Pulling up to park, Booker climbed out of car as he stood back, leaning against the car door. He had heard stories about this place, Xavier’s Sister School, where mutants could come and learn. It seemed like a perfectly amazing spot, a place where mutants who were scattered to the wind could come and learn and earn that second shot at life. It warmed his heart to know that someplace liked this existed. But! That was enough fawning. He had a package to deliver.

The bundle was neatly wrapped up in plastic, the garment unseen due to the opaque material, the only thing that could be discerned was that it was red. Tucking it neatly under his arm, Booker stopped at the gate where a burly looking guard eyed him suspiciously. Booker, dressed in his grey slacks, vest, and pale pink shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looked quite professional. His light brown hair caught the sunlight, making his halo into a brilliant shade of honey. As he approached the guard he shot him the brightest of smiles.

”Hello! Um…I have a package to deliver!” he grinned as he gestured to the parcel under his arm. The guard look unamused. Still, the librarian didn’t falter. ”For a friend who works." Blink. "Here." the guard cleared his throat. "At the mansion.” Still he was unamused and still Booker persisted. ”Also kinda dating someone here too.”

The guard rolled his eyes as he realized that Booker clearly wasn’t going away. With a sigh he reached over and called it in to any senior staff who was available to come out and talk with the man. Booker wasn’t even upset that the guard didn’t even ask who the package was for (much less who he was dating. Rude!). Instead he just stood outside the gates, adjusting his tie, and smiling as pleased as punch.

Gemma was told through the phone that a suspicious-looking individual insisted on visiting the Mansion without an appointment, carrying a suspicious-looking package. It usually would have been a job for Jack, but since the man seemed to insist that he was friends with someone who worked here, and also... dating someone?... at the Mansion, Gemma decided a more personal touch was needed to find out what was going on. Leaving her office with the neatly stacked papers, the tall woman walked down to the gates to meet the mysterious visitor. He turned out to be a young, good-looking man in clean clothes, instead of the crazy hobo the phone call made him out to be, so things were already looking better in Gemma's eyes. The package did not look all that dangerous either. Gemma had seen worse in some high schools, anyway.

"Hello" she smiled at the man "My name is Gemma Taylor, I work here. How can I help you?"

So, despite the fact that Mr. No-Smiles here seemed to be impenetrable to humor, Booker didn’t hold it against him. He was sure that he had to deal with all sorts who came by the mansion, seeking to look at mutants or to protest a school’s involvement in educating them. The world was a cruel place and you needed to be able to guard against all sorts of invaders. Booker could respect that, of course, and he wasn’t going to push the matter too much. However, he was here with a purpose so it wasn’t as if he could just turn around and be rejected.

So he waited. And he waited. The guard gave up and Booker saw him finally contact someone with his radio and the librarian sighed happily. Even if he didn’t get to go inside, he was more than happy to just wait here and hand this off to whomever came to greet him. Though, really, he would have loved to have gone inside and see the place. He had been curious, of course, but he wasn’t going to pester Juliette or Rebecca or even Maya for an invite.

Huh. He knew a surprising about of X-Men, now that he thought about it. Interesting.

The doors in the distance opened and Booker looked up. He pushed off of leaning against his car, hefted up the small package he had in hand and smiled warmly. The person greeting him was a woman, extremely tall and with dark skin the color of mocha. Her hair hanging loose in braids around her shoulders, she looked strong, maybe ex-athlete? P.E. teacher at one point at least, surely! But as her smaller former drew closer, coming into view, Booker’s eyes widened.

He recognized. Oh my god…he absolutely recognized her!!!

>> "Hello…My name is Gemma Taylor, I work here. How can I help you?"

He was stunned. He knew this woman! Not personally, of course, but rather from a web interview he had seen years ago, an AMA (Ask Me Anything) where she discussed working at the mansion and being an adapted. It was because of her that Booker had finally understood that he was an adapted too, something that he never would have figured out without her. He had always wanted to reach out, to thank her for steering him in the right direction, but to actually meet her face-to-face seemed like something that was strangely an impossibility.

Now that he was here, he was absolutely drawing a blank as he stared at her, his jade eyes widened with surprise, mouth gapped (he probably looked like a fish desperately pleading with a fisherman to be tossed back into the water). After a few seconds of this, Booker finally seemed to come out of his stupor, just enough to actually get a few words out.

Softly, under his breath, he muttered. ”I sah…cape fur…you Becca asked…bring meh to this…”

Well…never said they were coherent words. And why did he feel out of breath? Was he sweating now?!

When she walked up to the gates, the young man appeared to be more than a little... flustered? Gemma's eyebrows rose slightly as she took in the look on his face. Did she catch him at trying to sell some kind of a lie to the security personnel? Or was he simply some kind of a mutant fan boy? Or the opposite? Gemma had had encounters with both extremes, and sometimes they were hard to tell apart. She glanced at the package in his hand, then back at his face.

>>”I sah…cape fur…you Becca asked…bring meh to this…”

"Um... excuse me?" Gemma was momentarily at a loss of what to say, trying to discern what he was trying to say as he stared at her. She did not usually get quite this reaction from people, especially young men, although sometimes her aura effected people in strange ways. She stepped back a little, making sure he was outside of it.

"Are you a friend of Becca's?" she ventured, peeling the name out of the muttering. Now it was more likely that this guy was some kind of an admirer of Becca. Or a fan, of sorts. If he was, he was barking up the wrong tree, but Gemma needed to find a way to let him know that without making it blatantly obvious. "I am afraid she is not around right now. She might be out with her girlfriend. Do you want to leave her a message?..."

There. The guy looked harmless, but that did not mean he was telling the truth.

So this wasn’t Booker’s proudest moment. Though, in his defense, he actually didn’t know that he was making a complete ass of himself right now. From inside his head, he had been very elegant and direct with the pretty, dark-skinned woman whom he had idolized like Dali-Sage-Diety. After all, he had often fantasied about this meeting, about how he would tell her how much she had changed his life, and it was a speech that the man was more than familiar with. However, from the outside, he must have sounded like a complete spaz. Honestly, if he knew how he had sounded, he would have taken a step back too. Eeesh!

He mumbled a vague explanation as to why he was there, something concerning Becca and a cape. Again, he thought he had been fairly explanatory but the woman before him didn’t seem to think so. She stared at him, closely, her eyebrow arched as she tried to cherry pick pieces out of what he had said.

>> "Um... excuse me? Are you a friend of Becca's?"

He understood her perfectly so that was at least a feather in his cape! Enthusiastically he nodded his head, smiling that some form of communication was actually developing between them. That was the first step to ensuring that this entire meeting could be salvaged. Once she pointed him in Becca’s direction then maybe he can introduce himself in a better manner.

That was what second and third impressions were for, right?

>>I am afraid she is not around right now. She might be out with her girlfriend. Do you want to leave her a message?..."

He slumped. Dammit, Becca. He came all the way out here and she wasn’t even here? Oh he was going to have words with her later. Now the Adapted Wonder Goddess probably thought he was some stalker or something. He sighed, looking somewhat disappointed as he glanced down at the cape he still had all packaged up for her.

”Um…no. I’ll…wring her neck later, I guess,” He joked with a warm smile. However, given less than stellar greeting earlier, it occurred to him that maybe that wasn’t the best note to lead on with. So, collecting himself, he gave the woman a warm smile and slight bow of his head. ”I’m…sorry. Wrong choice of words.” he cleared his throat. Introductions would probably be best. ”My names Booker Bookman. I’m a friend of Becca’s. She used to date my sister.” He then hefted up the package. ”She asked me to bring this by for her. She’s working on a costume.” He smiled. A beat. ”For cosplay.” Another pause. ”Costume? For conventions?”

God, he was dying out here…

>>”Um…no. I’ll…wring her neck later, I guess,”

Gemma arched an eyebrow, and her smile faltered. The guy looked a little... erratic, in the way he expressed himself, and while her gut feeling still told her he was harmless, she was also not about to take risks in letting him inside on the whim. Not when he was mentioning bodily harm to one of the X-men as a possibility.

"Excuse me?"

>>”I’m…sorry. Wrong choice of words. My names Booker Bookman. I’m a friend of Becca’s. She used to date my sister.”

"Oh." now that was a whole different thing. If this guy... Booker?... really knew Becca, as he claimed, then Gemma would trust Becca's judgment in choosing her friends. It appeared that the guy was a little off kilter, but not completely inconsistent, after all.

>>”She asked me to bring this by for her. She’s working on a costume. For cosplay. Costume? For conventions?”

"I know what cosplay is" the corners of Gemma's lips turned up. She worked with teenagers enough to know about their hobbies, and costumes were definitely one of them - especially for teens that idolized superheroes and mutant vigilantes, both real and fictional. She glanced at the package, which did look like it contained some kind of a fabric. "Would you like to leave it with me?"

So, again, wrong choice of words. But at least Ms. Taylor wasn’t diving for the nearest phone and trying to call the police on him. Really he couldn’t have blamed her but she was handling the whole situation with an expert amount of cool and calm – a heck of a lot better than he was doing anyways. He tried his best to make up for his words and, somehow, it had managed to dissuade her suspicion a tiny bit. The guard at the gate shared an odd look with her, but Booker continued to smile, trying to knock it back a few notches in the meanwhile.

She seemed to understand that he was Becca’s friend (thank god he managed to get that much out correctly) though she was still just somewhat suspicious. So, yes, he lifted the package that he had brought, hoping that it would actually managed to turn her glare away from him. He was here to deliver something to Becca, nothing else. He didn’t have to explain what it was for but a serious case of word-vomit spilled from the man’s mouth as he explained what he really didn’t have to.

>> "I know what cosplay is…Would you like to leave it with me?"

While Booker wouldn’t have normally trusted anything like this with a stranger, this was Gemma Taylor so how could he not? If anyone was going to ensure that Becca got the item, it would be her. So, with a nod of agreement, he lifted up the parcel and handed it off to her with a smile.

”Please! If you wouldn’t mind. Just…” he took a breath, awkwardly wringing his hands. ”Just…tell her to be extra careful with it? It’s kind of a collector’s item.” It would be fine. It will be fine. And if he told himself that enough times he was sure he would actually begin to believe it.

With that task done, it really should have been the end of the meeting with the pretty, older woman. However, Booker was rarely one to ever play things too cool. So, before Gemma could turn to leave, he took a small step forward and raised his hand a tiny bit to grab her attention. With a smile that crinkled his youthful eyes, the sandy hair man sucked in a breath before he continued.

”Um…this may sound like…completely out of left field…” he looked a bit nervous before continuing. ”But…is it…possible…for me to get your autograph?” OHMYGODHEACTUALLYASKED! Another stuttering breath and he watched her for a second. ”Sorry. But….I’m…really just a big fan of yours, Ms. Taylor.”

He handed her the parcel, and Gemma held it carefully. Now that he was holding it, it was clear that it contained folded fabric. She wondered what kind of a costume Becca was working on.

>>”Please! If you wouldn’t mind. Just… Just…tell her to be extra careful with it? It’s kind of a collector’s item.”

"I will." she promised with a small smile. They had to be good friends, if he would loan her something precious like that. She made a mental note to let Becca know to handle the parcer with care. That was the least she could do.
Gemma turned to walk back to the building, but Booker's movement caught her eye, and she paused. Apparently, he was not quite done yet, and had something else to say.

>>”Um…this may sound like…completely out of left field… But…is it…possible…for me to get your autograph? Sorry. But….I’m…really just a big fan of yours, Ms. Taylor.”

Gemma blinked. He did not only know her name, but he was also... a fan?...

"A fan of mine?" she asked, surprised by the claim. There were a dozen reasons why she could imagine he might be an admirer, but most possibilities were not very reassuring. "For... what reason, exactly?"

In hindsight, he probably could have picked a better time to ask for his autograph. Once he had handed over the package to the extremely personable woman, Booker knew that he had an opportunity to just go and retain some of his dignity. That little eloquent display of grammar he had enacted back there was certainly not his best performance. But, Booker wouldn’t be Booker if he didn’t go for broke every now and again.

Gemma Taylor, for lack of a better word, was a hero to him. Even though she had never done anything like pull him from a burning building or take a bullet in his name, he still found her heroic. If it weren’t for her and her bravery in talking about herself on that AMA, he never would have found out what he was. He would have gone through life, ignoring the fact that he was special in his own way. He was an adapted, a term that the librarian had never heard before, not until the webisode he caught with Ms. Taylor starring. To him, that was a turning point in his life because he finally knew what he was.

With all that being said, how could he not want her autograph? When he had met with Svetlana those months ago, Booker had found himself thrilled that the Russian actually knew this woman. Of course he was hoping for a meeting to be made, but the timing had never been right. He even knew actual staff members who worked here and still it was something that managed to escape his attention time and time again. Really, if this was his only chance to get to meet this woman, he was damn well going to take it.

So he asked. He held his breath. He waited with the largest puppy dog eyes that he unknowingly could manage.

She was notably suspicious.

>> "A fan of mine? For... what reason, exactly?"

She turned around to face him, stepping back up as she inclined her head, spurred on by curiosity. How was he a fan? Now that he thought about it, really must have sounded like some of the most suspicious nonsense imaginable but really Booker couldn’t think of anything else to say that would have grabbed her attention. However, now that he was in her headlight, Booker was notably silent, trying to find the right words to explain how it was that he was actually a fan.

A glance to the guard (who was probably ready to taze him at this point) and Booker moistened his dry lips before he turned his head back up to great the woman’s gaze. A breath held and he spoke up, obviously going with the most direct and honest approach.

”A few years ago…you did an AMA with InvasionoftheBS. You talked about yourself and about working here…” A breath. No! Don’t stop! Wrong place to stop Creeper the Librarian! He cleared his throat. ”You were talking about what you are…you know…an adapted?” His smiled was nervous and utterly innocent as he watched her face. ”It wasn’t until I wanted that that…” he sighed. ”I found out that I was one too.” He toed kicked the dirt cutely, shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. ”If it hadn’t had been for you, I…don’t think I ever would have known. It…answered a lot of questions about things in my life.”

>>”A few years ago…you did an AMA with InvasionoftheBS. You talked about yourself and about working here…”

Gemma's right eyebrow twitched slightly at the mention of the AMA. That thing had turned out to be more trouble than it was worth... way more. The Brat Brigade (Gawain's words, not hers) was still sorting through uninvited fan mail for detention, and people kept turning up with all kinds of ridiculous requests and delusions at the Mansion gates. Not to mention the fan fiction.
Not to mention the fan fiction.

>>”You were talking about what you are…you know…an adapted? It wasn’t until I wanted that that… I found out that I was one too. If it hadn’t had been for you, I…don’t think I ever would have known. It…answered a lot of questions about things in my life.”

"... Oh." Gemma blinked, and her expression softened as the young man finally confessed why he was so excited to meet her. She glanced at the security guard, and he nodded his head slightly; no doubt he could sense the adapted aura on the guy earlier. Gemma turned back to Booker with a softer smile this time. "Well... welcome, then. Sorry about... all this. Those AMA's invited a lot of unwanted attention."

Gemma was a pretty good judge of character, and she could tell that Booker was genuine. Mutant or adapted, it was always hard to be different and not have the words for it. Also, if he was a friend of Becca, he probably already knew what his aura did to mutants, and also how to handle it.

"Would you like to come inside?"

That eye twitch was not a good sign. Admittedly, he had seen the AMA and knew that it had gone…less than stellar. The internet was full of trolls and while InvasionoftheBS tried to filter the comments and questions that were being asked, the second he passed out and Ms. Taylor took over, he was surprised by how much she actually answered. She didn’t run away from the disgusting and the perverse, but ran into it head on, ready to take them down several pegs just for being stupid. It was hard to not respect a woman like her.

>> "... Oh…”

Booker winced a little bit at that “Oh”. He didn’t know why but he felt a little like a completely exposed nerve. What was that they said about meeting your heroes? Don’t! But this was different. It was not so much that Booker worshipped the woman (though he could easily see why someone would), but he did respect the hell out of her. She had been there in some low points in his life, even if she was just a digital recording that he stumbled across on the internet.

That was probably what made the whole encounter that much more awkward. He had always wanted to meet the woman, to thank her for this chance at having a normal life. Everyone had a right to know what they were and, thanks to her, he did. But would she be receptive to the news? Would she even believe it? Judging from the look she shared with the guard, Booker was actually ready to be escorted back to the car.

But Ms. Taylor turned, her eyes upon him with a bit of a softer smile. Cautious Booker began to feel relief wash over him as he gave her a warm smile.

>>”Well... welcome, then. Sorry about... all this. Those AMA's invited a lot of unwanted attention."

He nodded. ”Oh! More than understandable.” He gestured to the building behind her. ”I mean, you gotta protect the pupils. I’m just sorry if I made you suspicious.” He sighed and gave her a small nod of his head. ”I mean, you don’t need to give me an autograph, I’m just…” he thought for a second. ”…really glad I got to meet you and say, in person, ‘thank you’.”

There. The deed was done. He was going to miss an autograph for his collection but he was going to take this moment to his grave. Probably the second he got back into his car and drove away, he would cheer and carry on like a moron, but in privacy, you’re perfectly free to do that and only risk the judgment against yourself. But just as the man turned his massive frame to move away, he was supposed when Ms. Taylor spoke up again.

>>"Would you like to come inside?"

The look in her eyes was exactly what he had imagined: caring, sweet, yet strong, exactly the kind of eyes that he expected a good school counselor to possess. The soft and endearing smile upon her lips was also a draw for Booker. Her mood had completely shifted now that she didn’t think he was some crazy stalker or mutant obsessed fan boy (okay, maybe he was a little of the later). Booker actually felt at home with her, even though he wanted to freak out over the fact that she was actually inviting him into the mansion, and so he kept his cool.

He nodded, again maintaining his composure as he stepped up to her. ”I mean, if it isn’t too much of an imposition.” A beaming and almost childish smile upon his lips. ”I would actually love that.”

>>”Oh! More than understandable. I mean, you gotta protect the pupils. I’m just sorry if I made you suspicious…really glad I got to meet you and say, in person, ‘thank you’.”

"I am glad the AMA ended up doing some good." Gemma smirked. He seemed intelligent, and he understood why she had to be cautious about unexpected visitors. If he lived with his own powers, he knew how being different set people on edge sometimes, or made them wary of unsolicited attention. But in the end, it was good news that her interview reached someone who needed to hear it. It was a small compensation for all the pain it brought to her everyday to-do list.

She asked Booker if he wanted to come inside. She was happy to talk with people, and she did not meet many adapteds, especially younger people. While mutations were harder to manage, being an adapted also had its set of challenges, something she was happy to talk about and help with.

>>”I mean, if it isn’t too much of an imposition. I would actually love that.”

"Sure" Gemma smiled, nodding him to come on in. She waked with him to the Mansion building, and led him to the kitchen area "If you are friends with Rebecca, I assume you know what this place is. There are not many students in the common areas this time of the day. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

>> "Sure"

Gahhhhh! He was actually going inside! Okay. Booker kept his cool on the outside but within, he was bouncing around like a child. He had dreamed of this day, watched and read whatever the Bird Watchers had put on sites and forums. He wasn’t obsessed with mutants, he respected them to bits, but it just warmed his heart to know that people were actually out there giving mutants a fair shake. It would be tragic if they were shunned and fell to the wayside like so many other people who were discriminated against over history.

But this place, well, it was a reminder that not all people were bad. That in the face of adversity, people would indeed strive to make the world a better place. Booker liked the thought of that.

So, when he was officially invited within the hallowed halls of the Mansion, he would make sure to be respectful but look around with wonderment. After all, he wasn’t a mutant so there was no reason for him to ever have to really set foot in here. To him, he felt like he was being given a rare gift and it was one he was going to cherish.

Stepping inside, Booker held his breath a little. They moved in through a side door and into the kitchen area of the mansion. It was bigger than he could have imagined and though he didn’t see a lot of activity, he did hear distant voices and sounds of running feet in the floors above. He smirked a bit, his eyes darting about as he took in everything that he saw. He could only imagine what the rest of the institution was going to be like but for this brief moment, he was thankful to just be here.

>>"If you are friends with Rebecca, I assume you know what this place is. There are not many students in the common areas this time of the day. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Her words jostled Booker out of his musings as he turned to face her. She was offering him sustenance. ”I’m good, thank you, though.” Really he couldn’t imagine eating or drinking anything right now. As for the rest of the woman’s comment, he nodded. ”Yeah, Rebecca has told me a little about it,” he admitted sheepishly. ”I hope that’s cool. I wouldn’t want her to get into trouble or anything.” he sighed as he finished giving the area another glance before turning back to Gemma. ”Again, thank you. Means a lot to get to talk to you. I…honestly don’t think I’ve ever met another adapted.” A shrug lifted his shoulders. ”If I have, I don’t think I ever would have realized it. How…did you find out?”

>>”I’m good, thank you, though.”

Gemma nodded, and moved over to the kitchen counter to make herself some coffee. As active as she usually was, she did need some caffeine sometimes - and she suspected that once some beverages were made, and Booker got over his initial excitement, he might change his mind and want some too.

>>”Yeah, Rebecca has told me a little about it. I hope that’s cool. I wouldn’t want her to get into trouble or anything.”

"That is okay" Gemma chuckled, glancing at Booker "Most of what we do here is not a secret at all."

It was a school, legal and registered, and a lot of what that entailed was publically available. Most people did not know about the X-men (although many suspected), but the Mansion had surprisingly few secrets, other than the private personal issues of the people who lived there - and most of those were not that different from any other boarding school's.

>>”Again, thank you. Means a lot to get to talk to you. I…honestly don’t think I’ve ever met another adapted. If I have, I don’t think I ever would have realized it. How…did you find out?”

"I worked as a school counselor, and I had quite a few students who were mutants." Gemma shrugged with a smile "Most adapteds never realize their powers until they encounter mutants who are affected by them. Do you want to tell me how you found out?"

>> "That is okay…Most of what we do here is not a secret at all."

”Phew! Thank goodness.”

Okay, deep sigh of relief. Booker was glad that his friend wasn’t going to be getting into any trouble. Of course, she shouldn’t have. It wasn’t as if the majority of the school’s doings weren’t already guessed. Several of the X-Men were public figures (Rebecca included) so it wasn’t a surprise to connect certain dots to one another. The majority were unconfirmed, of course, but that didn’t mean that they were any less true. But, besides that, Booker was just glad Rebecca would be good.

Watching as the woman made herself some coffee, Booker continued to survey the room. Though he had initially not wanted anything, he had to admit that the brew she was making actually smelled good. He regretted, briefly, saying he didn’t want anything, but he would live. Instead he decided to actually pick up conversation with the woman.

Starting off with another display of gratefulness, Booker went on to explain a little about himself, that he never would have figured out he was an adapted if it weren’t for her show. Honestly he would have continued to go on, not realizing this, and simply accepted that he was just like everyone else, only extremely lucky. However, deep down, even he knew that it wasn’t true. Certain incidents in his life were far too amazing to be considered lucky.

As Gemma made her coffee, Booker stepped a little closer, not wanting to have to shout across the kitchen. Planting himself nearby, he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter, giving her a friendly smile. He was already beginning to loosen up when compared to earlier.

>>"I worked as a school counselor, and I had quite a few students who were mutants…Most adapteds never realize their powers until they encounter mutants who are affected by them. Do you want to tell me how you found out?"

He nodded his head, listening intently to her words. So she was a counselor even before coming here. Of course that would put her into the paths of man young mutants. Most powers developed at a younger age so the chances of running into a mutant in school was certainly raised.

Furthermore, she explained that it wasn’t uncommon that he wouldn’t have known another adapted, or what he was, unless he had run into a mutant. It wasn’t as if adapteds could be easily told apart from every day humans. They needed mutants as a catalyst, to be able to weaken or completely deactivate their abilities. While it would have been much simpler for there to be a neon sign pasted to his forehead, with “ADAPTED” written on it, he understood what she said.

Then, she inquired to him – how did he know. That…well…it wasn’t always the easiest question. He still had some trauma from his own experiences that, at times, could develop into anxiety or depressive moods. However, Booker was feeling in a good enough mood, had good enough things happen to him lately that it seemed like it wouldn’t cause much harm to lightly talk about it. So, with a breath and looking down towards the ground for a few seconds, he finally raised his head to speak.

”Umm, it was college,” he started. ”A good friend of mind, Jamal, said he was a mutant. But that he was scared of his powers. Could makes things explode…I guess.” It wasn’t until that day that Booker had seen Jamal’s abilities, especially since he had been too scared to even try to access them. A breath and Booker went on. ”Finals were getting rough, he was worried he was going to lose his scholarship, worried about telling his parents, etc.. And…at a frat party…well…he lost control.”

It was in the newspapers several years ago, the story of a tragedy at a frat house that had been blamed on an exploding gas pipe. So many were injured, so many killed, but only one managed to walk away from it without a scrap, a student who remained anonymous. Booker looked distant for a second, thinking back to that night, thinking back to Jamal, the way he screamed, accusing him of cheating, or finally just losing the weak control he already had. A sigh and he glanced at Gemma, giving her a small, yet sad, smile.

”Frat house went up…” he shrugged. ’Three guesses who walked out without a scratch?”