Booted feet strolled up the familiar hallways to the boy's bedroom wing. A path opened in front of him through the milling students, stuck inside thanks to the snow and near freezing temperatures outside. Such freedom of movement through the Mansion was a real perk of being an X-man. Even teachers weren't treated with such awe.

Clutched in Cafas fingers, which were still tipped red from his trip in to the Mansion, was a manila folder, as yet relatively thin. The file of a new student that the X-man was off to see how he was settling in, on the request of Headmaster Kipperling. One of him, anyway. The old man could have sent a clone, but Cafas didn't raise that issue.

New headmaster, same old tricks. Here I thought the X-men were independent of the actual schooling.

Pale blue eyes scanned the pages he'd been provided. They hovered on two bits of information; The first being the room number he was looking for, the second that the student apparently didn't fully understand his situation as a mutant. Pity flashed across Cafas' face, his eyes rapidly transitioning to a soft brown as he closed the file.

Poor guy. This isn't going to be an easy conversation.

A minute later he was in the comparatively empty bedroom hallway, not bothering to search the door numbers. He knew where he was going, he'd lived in the Mansion for years. Knew it like the back of his hand.

He came to a stop outside the room the file listed, tugging his buttoned shirt to smooth the crinkles left by his motorcycle jacket, and adjust how it hung over his jeans. Cafas knocked firmly, eyes flicking down to the folder briefly to refresh himself of the student's name. Though an easy smile graced his face, his brown eyes would have tipped off any that knew him well.

Well, let's hope he's in...

Tyson was seated on his bed, looking at the new set of sheets he had managed to shred with his claws. Again. The school was going to run out of sheets at this rate. At this point he was beginning to feel apathetic about it. Compared to everything else going on in his life, torn sheets were relatively tame. Since he had come to the institute, he had been learning more and more about how inhuman he had become, and how little control he had over himself. It ranged from simple things like craving raw meat, to the traumatic experience of completely losing it in his first trip into the city and attacking a group of mutant haters when they cornered him in an alley. The continued reinforcement of animalistic instincts overriding his behavior and the difficulties adjusting to his new body was sapping the positive attitude he had thought he had coming into this.

Right now the only thing really holding him together was the hope for a cure. Until then he just wanted to stay in his room and avoid anything that would set him off again. He wasn't sure he could handle attacking anyone else, he was ready to lose it as it was. He just wanted to be normal again and go home. If he could just hold on until then he would be fine.

Then there was a knock on the door. His first instinct was to rush the door barking to defend his territory. Only by gripping the bedframe was he able to hold himself back from doing just that. He waited a second or two for the rush to pass before he got up, observing the gouges he had left in the wood, then crossed over to the door and opened it. Even then he could not hold in the growl, "Grrrrrrrr hrrrrrrr yeeesss?" He said, secretly hoping that the man at the door had good news for him. Of course given his run of luck so far, he wasn't holding his breath.

The door swung open to revel a veritable wall of fur. Cafas, not used to being so eclipsed, suppressed a double-take and looked up to make eye-contact. His smile wavered at the growling, before regaining its shape. The metal manipulator did his level best to seem professionally casual.

"Tyson, hi. I'm Cafas." The X-man offered a friendly hand, making not of the claws on Tyson. They looked like they would hurt if the got him, but he'd had worse. "Doctor Kipperling sent me to see how you were settling in. Mind if I come in?"

Surely there was someone better for this... Maya, for instance...

Cafas' tone, while friendly and caring enough, held the unmistakable air that the question had been a rhetorical courtesy. It could almost have been called a parental tone, and he had to wonder where he'd picked it up. Perhaps Maya, or perhaps it was a mark left by years living at the Mansion.

Little of column a, little of column b, probably.

Cafas eye flicked beyond Tyson, into the room. Classic signs of an unfamiliar mutation. Most of the 'fresher' mutants tended to not know how to work around their abilities. The sheets told Cafas that was the case here. Oh well, sheets could be replaced.

Tyson looked the guy over, he was getting a high metallic scent off the guy, not so much coming from him as something he was in contact with frequently. And did his eyes just change color? If there was any question about if this guy was a mutant or not, then that gave him the evidence he needed. He offered his clawed hand, careful not to shred the guys hand by accident. His hands were not reliable for any amount of fine manipulation. He backed away from the door to allow the man to come in. He really didn't have to ask, it was not like he owned the room, the only part of him that thought of it as his was the animal side of him.

The room had several pieces of evidence of Tyson's issues with his new form. There was a bowl at the desk half full with water, the rest apparently spilled across the surface where it had splashed when Tyson had attempted to drink. There were scratches on the furniture, not deep, but obviously places his claws had inadvertently scratched up from handling. The waste basket was full of shredded and crumpled papers and broken pencils and pens, attempts Tyson had made at writing, but failed. There was a pile of clothing in the corner. Well, two actually, one was his clean clothes, the other ones he had eventually shredded trying to pull on. There were several snags in the carpet where his claws had caught, leaving the room looking a little worse for ware.

Tyson pulled the chair out from the desk and turned it around, leaving a new scratch in the wood before he sat down on the bed. "hrrrrrrrr sorrrrrrrrry aboouut rrrr the rrrrrroooom," he apologized, pretty sure a good chunk of the school's budget was probably being set apart for the damages he was causing. He didn't like the inconveniences he was causing, intentional or not. He ran his claws through his fur awkwardly, he still hadn't figured out a form of self comfort since his claws tended to scratch himself if he wasn't careful.

Grateful for the care in the handshake, Cafas proceeded into the room after the hulking wolf. A glance around told him just how new Tyson's mutation was. He made mental note of the carpet and furniture; He wasn't certain what sort of specialty stuff they could find, but he knew the Mansion's team would make every attempt to deck the room out so Tyson didn't have to worry about damaging it. The metal manipulator gently closed the door.

>"hrrrrrrrr sorrrrrrrrry aboouut rrrr the rrrrrroooom,"

Cafas, the cracks in his professional demeanor showing, sat on the end of the bed frame. "Don't worry about it, you didn't reduce this wing of the Mansion to rubble, so we've seen worse." It felt like they'd rebuilt so much of the place that there wasn't an inch of original material in the whole Mansion.

Probably isn't. At least not in its original state...

Cafas flicked the folder open without looking at it, eyes still focused on Tyson. "So, how are you finding the Mansion? Settling in okay? I know finding your way around can take some getting used to, as can living in close proximity to so many other people. Took me a while, that's for sure." Cafas' smile was a little easier; He knew he was only delaying the difficult part, but there was no need to start on a bad note. Well, bad if you didn't want to be a seven foot wolf mutant.

I can understand why you wouldn't...

"Don't worry about it, you didn't reduce this wing of the Mansion to rubble, so we've seen worse."

Tyson mentally paused at that, wondering how exactly the mansion had gotten so bad that 'reduce to rubble' was not the worst they had seen. He had caught old scents of what he could only describe as char and smoke. He suddenly didn't feel quite as safe here as before, and a little paranoid about the roof suddenly coming down.

As Cafas asked how he was doing, Tyson wasn't exactly sure what he was asking for. He looked at the folder he was holding, wondering if it was a medical file or something. Maybe he had some news on his condition? His ears perked a little as he thought maybe, just maybe that they had figured something out. "Hrrrr ooookaay, loooud, rrrr aloot of smeeeells." A bit of an understatement, there was so many different scents and sounds that made living in the mansion horrible at certain times of the day, usually when everyone was in transit at the same time. Usually he took refuge at the greenhouse during these times where it was a lot less overwhelming.

"Hrrrr iiis theeerrrr... haavvvee theeeey..." he said, not sure how to ask the question. He didn't want to give his hopes up, but at the same time he desperatly wanted them to have found a way to fix him.

>"Hrrrr ooookaay, loooud, rrrr aloot of smeeeells."

"No kidding, you don't need a wolf's nose to smell the hormones in this place, though I imagine it makes it much worse." Cafas chuckled, shaking his head. As if teenagers weren't bad enough alone, they'd gathered a whole bunch of them, and mutants to boot. It was never dull, and it would never smell the same again.

Never know, a good bulk order of febreeze might do the trick.

Cafas saw the eyes flick to the folder, he saw the glimmer of hope there, and it hurt him. He'd been rather hoping to get further before having to tackle the uncomfortable subject.

>"Hrrrr iiis theeerrrr... haavvvee theeeey..."

A sympathetic sigh escaped Cafas before he could stop it. He glanced down, just in case the words had magically changed. Nope. His face became serious as his gaze returned to Tyson. "Yeah," Another sigh, "Yeah DNA results are back. Confirmed an active X-gene. Couldn't tell you if it would have activated anyway, but it is now." He knew Tyson wasn't going to like that, but forged on.

Try to focus on positives here, Cafas.

He put the folder down behind him, on the bed, and folded his hands in his lap. "Which isn't to say you're permanently as you are now. Plenty of mutants discover facets of their mutation as they explore them, and some even discover they have more control over them than they ever knew. So, with a little luck, you may figure out how to transition between forms. For now though... Well, we'll see what we can do about some sturdier furnishings." Cafas sucked his teeth as he tried to think of something comforting to say, but came up with nothing. He settled on an apologetic nod.

"Yeah DNA results are back. Confirmed an active X-gene. Couldn't tell you if it would have activated anyway, but it is now."

Tyson didn't know much about genetics, it hadn't been his focus in school, so what Cafas said didn't convey the intended message, "Hrrrrrr theeeen theeey can fiiiix rrrrrrr, deeeaciiiiivattee?" He had no working knowledge of how his father had done it, all he knew is that he had done something, pumped him full of chemicals, and experimented on him, in his mind the entailed that it could be undone, reversed it by undoing whatever it was his father had done. What it sounded like to him was that they discovered the cause, and could therefore undo it.

But then Cafas went on, describing mutation and learning control, and he became confused, and a lump started to form in this throat. "rrrrrr but.... cuuurrrrre? Suupposeed torrrrr geet... theey werrr suuuppoosed to hrrrrrrrr..." he didn't understand, he was here for help right? They were supposed to fix this, he was supposed to be going home to a normal life. He had to be misunderstanding, there was a cure, there had to be a cure. He looked at Cafas, a desperate expression on his face, almost pleading that he was missing something here.

No-one ever wanted to bear bad news. Having to tell someone twice on top of that was even less comfortable. He mulled over how to make it more clear, but just couldn't muster anything. He'd just have to kind of... Wing it.

Kipperling is gonna owe me for this...

Cafas sighed, stood, and walked over to the big wolf-man, resting a hand on his shoulder. This was potentially a poor decision, when delivering bad news to a werewolf, but Cafas only saw a mutant he was about to tell something potentially heartbreaking. The fact his arm was at real risk of being ripped off never even occurred to him.

"I'm sorry mate, there just isn't a working cure. You uh... Well, this is you now."

Tyson felt something within him crack, a cold sensation felt like it leaked somewhere in his chest. This was him now? There was no cure? He was... he was stuck like this? His breathing grew heavy as he felt the warmth drain from him, leaving a hollow feeling in him. He could feel his hands.... his paws shaking. He looked down at them, wide eyed in shock at the knowledge that it wasn't going to go away. A series of half grows, half whines escaped his mouth as he clawed at his chest, the crumbing feeling there painful.

Since his transformation he had witnessed the horrible things he had done, been disgusted by the actions that his instincts drew him to do, the nightmare that was his existence day by day... that was.... this was... his life now? No... No... NO! A new sensating erupted, where it has once been cold, it felt like somone had stabbed it with a red hot poker. His growling intensified as the heat grew, catching through his body like he was burning inside. His vision seemed to tint with red as the hot, painful, burning rage consumed his being.

"Hrrrr.. HRRrrrrr... HHRRRRRR.... geeeet oouuuuut... hrrrrrrrrr," he said, his breath rough, ragged, labored. He felt the hand on his back, and he wanted to bite it. He wanted to sink his teeth in and tear it apart. It was taking all his willpower not to do it. He held his head, more to keep himself from such taking actions, but the growing snarls and growls that were coming from him seemed to indicate that this was only a temporary barrier. He was losing it, and the danger signs were growing, "HHHRRRRR GRRRRRR RRRRRRRR GEEEEET OOOUUTTTT HRRRRRRR!!!!!" he snarled again, in case Cafas had not gotten the message, his grip so hard his claws dug into his own flesh, drawing blood.

Cafas could feel Tyson's world crumbling. He could see it. He wanted to hug the guy and tell him it'd be alright, but he hardly knew him. That seemed inappropriate, ultimately. He sighed and tried to think what to do. A nagging part of him told him to walk away, for a reason he couldn't quite pin down fast enough. How would he have reacted?

The anger is coming...

Yup, every nerve very suddenly started telling him he was in danger. Cafas was happy to listen to them, especially with Tyson's warning. He was fairly certain, even as trained as he was, he was under equipped for a physical confrontation with the guy. The natural weapons just had him outclassed.

But he was standing in a densely populated school. Some of the students might be okay, if Tyson got out of control and went on a bit of a rampage, but most wouldn't. Suddenly, Kipperling's choice made a lot of sense, and Cafas had a spike of anger of his own, that he'd been sent in without all the information.

This may hurt a little...

He didn't even have his communicator to call for back up. He was at the Mansion, why on earth would he have need of it? Well, there was the seven foot tall, emotionally distraught wolf-man, but besides that, right?

Cafas winced, swallowed, and went with his initial instinct. He wrapped his arm around the big furry Tyson, hugging him maybe slightly tighter than he otherwise would have. Adrenaline would do that. "I know mate, I know it hurts, but right now I need you to calm down. Too many kids here that could get hurt if you lose control." Cafas tried to keep his voice level, but he was out of his depth not just fighting his way out of a potentially violent situation.

What would Maya do. What would Maya do. What would Maya do...

At this point Tyson was way past reasoning, his life was over, he was a monster forever. There wasn't anything he could do, there was no cure, he would never see his mom again, he would never see home, he would never be normal. He hurt inside, more then anything else he had felt, a soul crushing pain as any hope was dashed into pieces, leaving only loss and rage. Unfortunately, Cafas didn't seem to be intent on leaving, wrapping his arms around him, as if trying to contain everything in him. If he were trying to comfort him, it was not working, how could there be any comfort ever again? Right now he wanted him out, he wanted the world out, he wanted everyone and everything to just go away.

Snarling, he snapped, fury blazing in his eyes, and his claws were on Cafas back, digging into the leather jacket easily before he tore the man from about him and lifted him over his head, hurling the man at the door. He wanted him out, gone, he didn't care if he had to throw him through the door to do it.

Still caught up in rage, still hurting, he clutched at his head, which felt like it was going to explode. He turned, leaning against the desk chair, his claws digging into the wood, before let out a huge snarl and lifted it to throw it against the wall, where it splintered and broke apart. The desk was next to suffer, as his claws dragged across the surface leaving deep gouges.

His fury went on, as he took his rage out on the walls carpet and furniture, little more then an angry animal, before finally he stood before the mirror, where he stopped, looking at the reflection, the hideous, ugly, stupid reflection. The sound of breaking glass filled the room as he slammed his fist against it, glass fell to the floor and Tyson hit at it again and again, blood dripping from his hands where the glass had cut, staining the backboard and wall. He continued still leaving dents and holes in the wall, until his rage was spent, and Tyson fell to the floor, growling and whining, in a pile of broken glass and shattered hopes, the blood dripped from his wounds, but he couldn't feel it. He felt numb... no, that wasn't it, he just hurt so much inside he didn't feel the pain. He didn't care, the stupid wounds were already healing. And this was it.... this was his life now. A silent wail left his jaw, he couldn't scream, his body wan't built for it, instead a whine mixed with a mournful howl came out. His life was over, it was all over.

Cafas was very grateful for the Kevlar in his jacket. It would have protected him nicely from a road surface, had he ever come off his bike. Instead it gave its structural integrity to keeping claws out of his back. The leather was simply beyond repair.

That was not to be the end of his problems though. The world went sideways, and Cafas was lifted into the air. That alone was an odd sensation, Cafas clocking in at over 250lb, being thrown was almost frightening. IT had been a while since he'd been so easily tossed around.

This happens way too often...

The thought occured to him as the kevlar spine protector of his jacket impacted the door. Lucky for the door, Cafas only partially hit it. Unlucky for Cafas, because he barely got his arms around his head before he impacted the wall. He fell to the floor dazed, blinking away stars. A splintering of wood told him he was not the only thing being used for stress relief.

Well, if it's not over, I suppose I'm still needed...

The metal manipulator got to his feet, sucking air into his winded lungs. He leaned against the door, barring the exit, as Tyson destroyed the room. It went on for quite a while, all the angry growling and howling. By the time he was done, the place looked like a bomb had hit it. Tyson whined and howled on the floor pitifully.

Cafas nodded as he surveyed the scene, impressed, in a very unimpressed sort of way. It was quite the destructive display. It seemed to have done the trick though. "Yup, sturdier furniture is going on the list. If you're done, we can get you another room temporarily." It was just another day at the Mansion.

Tyson curled up into a ball, not bothering to even roll off the glass, breaking into a consistent sob. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now. He was still angry, but overwhelmed at the same time, he just wanted to be alone right now, he didn't want Cafas here, he didn't want to be watched as his life crumbled before him "hr p-pleeeese, juuust gooo hrrr," he uttered weakly, his voice still trembling within the growls and slurs. He half half his face to be wet with tears, however, as he felt his face, it was dry. He couldn't even cry. Just another thing to show how inhuman he had become. He didn't want to move to another room, he would likely destroy it. He didn't want to be around people right now, he didn't want comfort or pity, he wanted to morn in peace. Despite having calmed down somewhat, he was not better, he would never be better.

Cafas remark when unheaded, Tyson just laid there, it was clear he was in no shape or mood to entertain Cafas apparent nonchalant reaction to his breakdown. The room was in shambles, but Tyson thought it fitting at the moment. It looked like a violent creature lived there, a monster, it matched what was inside him now. He was fine staying there, there was no point in going to another room, not when he couldn't stand the mocking reflection in the mirror, or the illusion of normality which was just lying to himself. Things would never be normal for him again, he couldn't stand to look at it right now.

Cafas nodded, reaching behind him for the door knob. He was just glad he'd managed to miss it. His powers didn't work through cloth, and that would have hurt really bad. He bent and picked up Tyson's file from the floor at his feet, where it had ended up. "Alright, Chief." Cafas twisted and swung the door inward, spinning to exit, shooing curious kids away.

Too curious by half, this lot.

"Go on, I'm sure you all have something better to do." They dispersed disappointedly, some of them craning to look past Cafas' frame. They earned a glare for their trouble, that sent them shooing a little faster. When the last of them had finally taken the hint and gone back to their day, Cafas turned and, one hand on the door, looked over to Tyson.

He's really taking this hard...

"Look, Tyson. If you need to talk to someone, I'm here, and the other staff are too. You'd be surprised how similar some of our experiences have been, and we're happy to listen. Just... Take care, okay?" The X-man swung the door shut, and let out a sigh. He was frustrated with himself for not handling the situation better. He rested his forehead against the door for a moment, trying to think, but it was no use. His head was just all over the place. He needed to clear it.

He spent the next hour training in the danger room, beating hard light bad guy into submission. At least he was good at that.