Snacking On An Apple, Open [Jan 29]

[Ana Renard]

According to the oversized clock hanging on the wall over there, the time was 3:47pm.

If that were true, then that meant that Ana had been on the telephone for over an hour now. If only there was a mutant ability to actually be connected to the right person. Because it seemed that that was the only way she was going to talk her way through piles of red tape. Had she not stopped when she had, she probably would have found herself going insane.

After hanging up with a sigh, she flicked on the cordless to make one more phone call. This one, she suspected, was going to be very short indeed.

When the secretary’s voice came over the line, Ana knew she had predicted correctly.

“Jonathon Renard’s office. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Kathryn,” she said, using the secretary’s first name; they had met in person many times before. “Ana here.”

“Mr Renard is in a meeting at the moment, Ms Renard. Can I take a message?”

That was not a surprise at all.

“Yes, please. Can you tell Dad that I called? RE: TC and UN Meeting?”

“Certainly. Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.” The phone was disconnected with a soft click.

Ana placed the phone carefully on the table in the middle of the mentors’ kitchenette, before bustling about for something – anything – to eat. She had not had anything since lunch, and now she realised she was starving.

Cupboards opened and shut as she searched. Ah hah! Someone had recently stocked the fruit bowl. Her hand hovered over the bowl, passing over the oranges and bananas, instead selecting a bright red apple.

Retrieving a knife from a drawer, she seated herself at the table with a sigh. God it was good to take a break. She was currently she was alone, but Second Chance was growing more and more populated by the week. So who knew who might be interrupting her silence.

With a movement that screamed of practised ease, she placed the apple on the table, and cut it neatly in half. She selected one half and bit into it, closing her eyes with pleasure. She loved fresh apples.

The other half, however, remained on the table. As if it were waiting for something.

[Evan Sutherland]

Dear Dad,

Nope. Scratch that…

Hey Dad!

Ugh. No. Too cheery.

Daddy,

Too sentimental, what am I doing, telling him my mother died --Okay. Bad scenario, I shouldn’t have thought that.

Evan sighed deeply and threw the pen across the room. He’d promised his father that he would send him something upon going off to the Renard Institute however, absolutely nothing was coming to mind. He couldn’t tell the man “Oh! Everything’s wonderful! Mum’s here and we’re having a good ole time like we used to --You remember the good ole times, right Dad? When Betsy was still married and lived half way across town…Oh, you don’t?” See, that sort of thing wouldn’t go over well with anyone. Not only would his father simply think that he was acting out against his step mother again (for he usually did in some way) but who on God’s green Earth would believe that his mother Josephine Lawrence was still kicking, even if it weren’t in her own body.

Crumbling the paper up, he tossed it into the waste basket and headed out of his room. He was starting to feel cooped up. He’d been trying for far too long to write that letter and it was very obvious that it hadn’t been productive.

His feet seemed to guide him, or perhaps it was his stomach for he found himself in the kitchen with a smile etched onto his face. There was his Mo--Ana. Ah, screw it. Even without her original body she was still his mother.

“Hey,” He said pushing a tuft of red hair behind his ear as he took a seat next to her. Without even thinking about it, he took up the apple and took a bite. Mouth watered. He smiled.

“How was your day?” It was like it always had been and it was nice to have it again.

[Ana Renard]

It had become a sort of tradition, back when Ana was Josephine, for the two of them to split an apple and talk about their day. Ana did not know if Evan’s father had kept up the tradition, or if it had died out along with its instigator. If the former had happened, Ana doubted that Evan would have taken to it very well. It was their tradition, not Evan’s and his father’s.

“Busy,” Ana replied succinctly, taking another bite of her apple. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, wondering what else to say. And how else to say it. “With all the new arrivals, it means extra work. We had another few arrive today.” She paused to take another bite. “Not only just sorting out rooms and the like, but also school. Uniforms, supplies... even something as simple as which school they go to. And we’ll be needing more mentors soon.”

It was difficult, yes, but this was just the beginning. Once the first few bumps were dealt with, and everyone started to get into their routines, things would improve. Hopefully. A few of the older students, and the ones who had been here for some time, had already started on such journeys. Thank God for that. They would need all the help they could get. Especially with school starting.

They did not want to be exposed first week of school.

“But enough about me. What has been going on in the life of Evangelos Sutherland?”

[Fiona McQueen]

If it were just the straight-legged jeans, black boots, and black leather jacket and gloves that Fiona was wearing, it would have seemed that she was trying to look tough. And although that could be taken as a half-truth, the gloves and long sleeves had a very different purpose.

It was the black hat, complete with matching opaque veil that practically screamed that she did not want to be seen. Fiona looked as if a biker had suddenly been dragged to a funeral, and the hat-with-veil had been a last minute attempt to look the part. But in a place such as The Renard Institute, it simply made her look out of place, and made people curious: why would she be hiding every inch of skin?

Fiona and her sister had arrived early in the morning, and from the moment the two (and their parents) had stepped out from their van, there had been looks. Skye – your average blonde girl – stepped out first. It would have been nothing out of the ordinary, save for the second figure, covered from head to toe, with not even eyes or hair visible, that had followed. From through her veil, Fiona could see that the others were ordinary. Their mutations were easy to hide.

So anyone who arrived as Fiona did was bound to get attention.

If that were true, wait until she finally worked up the courage to take it off.

She had seen one of the other students head into the kitchen there. Having set up her room, she had asked where she might find Ms Renard; she wanted to talk to her as soon as possible.

But she hovered there by the door for some time. What would she say? What would she do? Fiona had no idea. But she had to do it. She was going to be living with these people, she was just going to have to get used to it.

Ms Renard and the boy were talking. Just an everyday conversation. But still, she hated to be a bother. She coughed once. “Um... Ms Renard?” she said, boots making a tapping sound as she stepped from carpet onto linoleum. “I’m Fiona McQueen? We... talked on the phone? My sister and I are settled in, thank you. I just... wanted to see if there was anything I could do?”

[Evan Sutherland]

After Josephine had died, out of habit Evan had cut the apple in half and left it on the table for her. Of course, she never came and the fruit was tossed into the trash all wrinkled and brown. Betsy had noticed this and had tried to eat the other half of the apple (as she had seen that Evan would not) but when she went to do so, she’d always be fussed at by the boy. Because of this, (and the fact that she was tired of him wasting perfectly good food) she informed Jonathan of the boy’s wasteful habits. Of course he then explained this tradition that had been his and his Mum’s and his father had talked Betsy into letting it be.

He needs some way of remembering his mother and he’s not hurting anyone. That was what his father always said but Betsy was usually anything but thrilled.

As she started talking about the school, he had half a mind to zone out, to simply pretend that he was listening only because what she had to say was probably boring. However, Evan didn’t do such a thing and he watched her as he took another huge bite out of his apple.

The juice from the apple beaded up at the corner of his mouth but once he had swallowed the food, he had licked it away.

“Well, let’s see,” His gaze flickered towards the table as he fiddled with the bright red skin, “I’ve been meeting some of the people around here. Like there’s this really goofy English man around here. When I saw him he was sitting in a circle of daisies…at least they looked like daisies. He looked like he was talking to the plants, of course, he could have just been talking to himself…”

Another bite of the apple.

“Oh!” His index finger shot up into the air because he remembered he had not told his mother something. He swallowed the fruit before continuing. “I met this girl named Angel. She’s really really awesome….and she has a car!” And of course she was older therefore it was highly doubtful she’d associate with him when older people got there…right? Evan hoped not because he had never met a girl so into comics and that in it’s self was great.

“Did I mention she was cu--” And he cut himself off when he saw someone else walk into the room. His brows furrowed at the fact that he couldn’t see her at all. Why would she need to be all covered up like that? Was she one of those albinos?

[Ana Renard]

Ana could not help but smile; her boy seemed to be settling in nicely. She was worried about it all, for many reasons. Not only did he have to deal with being a mutant, and being away from his father (and his stepmother - but Ana was keen to forget about that one completely), as well as a new school, he also had the extreme difficulty of dealing with his mother's strange and unusual way of being resurrected from the dead.

"I see you've met Brenton, then," she said, still smiling. "The 'goofy Englishman'? His power, from what I've seen, is that he can manipulate the growth of plants. Whether he can actually talk to daisies, though, is something I don't know.

"And you mean 'Angela'?" she added. There were no students at SCI called Angel. Currently, anyway. Maybe in the future... but that was not Evan's power. "She was very annoyed that she had to give up her prefecthood in order to come here... so the car was part of the deal. Her parents had promised her one, and I agreed to let her have it here instead. I suppose it will be useful, though."

A voice interrupted the two of them, then, and Ana turned to see a figure covered head to toe in black, save for the denim of her jeans. Her suspicions were confirmed when the girl introduced herself as Fiona. Of course Ana knew about the girl's circumstances, but she had not seen them in the flesh (bad choice of words) yet.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Fiona. Please, take a seat." She smiled warmly at the girl, hoping she would take her up on the offer. "This is," my son, "Evan, one of the students here." She looked the girl over once more and added, "And please, you must be sweltering in all of that. Why don't you take a few layers off. This is your home - you are safe here."

[Fiona McQueen]

A small part of Fiona simply wanted to turn tail and run. But unfortunately, she was stuck here. And she had made her choice, made her bed, and now she was going to have to lie in it.

And, sooner or later, her secret was going to be revealed. Might as well get it over and done with.

"All right," she said hesitantly when Ms Renard made the suggestion. To call it nerve-wracking would have been an understatement, but that was the best she could do. She was taking over her protection, in front of two practical strangers. But, of course, she would have to do it later, if she did not do it now.

Cautiously, she unzipped the jacket, revealing a white top of some sort. Whether it was a t-shirt or a tank top one could not tell yet. Next, she quickly pulled over her gloves, but her arms shrank back into her sleeves, so that they could not be seen.

"I'm sorry," she said from behind her veil. "I've... not done this much."

Then, in one quick motion, like one would rip off a band-aid, Fiona discarded the jacket, revealing her secret: her arms, and hands, were blue. A deep sky blue, to be a little more precise.

Her heart was pounding, but she felt a little better. The first step was always the hardest, and it was done now. Now, just for the hat and veil.

Cool air hit her face as blonde hair fell freely around her face and back of her neck. Just like her arms, her face was blue, even though her hair was a normal blonde shade. Her lips were several shades darker.

All in all, it was as if she were a real life Smurfette.

Without saying another word, she took a deep breath and joined the two at the table.

[Evan Sutherland]

Just great. He had to be introduced when he had just shoved a piece of food in his mouth. Great timing Mum, just awesome. Quickly though, he tried to swallow and wipe his hands on his pants. He had to be somewhat civil and give the girl’s hand a shake right?

“Hey,” His voice was soft as he gave a small smile. Evan leaned forward as the girl started to take off her layers and upon seeing her blue skin, a huge grin broke out onto his lips.

“You’re blue!” He exclaimed. The way he said it shouldn’t be confused with fear or even mockery of the girl for he was doing no such thing. Rather, the boy was quite amused that she was any colour but normal.

“Look at that Mu--Miss Renard! She’s blue!” And he could be so eloquent couldn’t he? Evan lurched forward with his hand out towards her.

“I mean…. just that fact alone is just…awesome.” And he was probably being far too zealous about the whole ordeal. He didn’t even take it under consideration that the girl was probably self conscious (hence the covering up) and there he was ranting about it.

It was such a pretty shade of the colour too. One of his favorites--not that the girl knew that but if he hadn’t scared her away, she just may know.

“I wonder if I could do that?” He asked glancing at Ana, “Do you think I could?” Evan was referring to his power of illusion. Never had he tried to make himself a different colour because the only thing he did on most occasions was send a rat to scare someone. After awhile that just gets a bit boring.

[Fiona McQueen]

If Evan thought that being blue was an 'awesome' thing, Fiona could only imagine his reaction to her skin turning purple as heat rose to her cheeks. "Of course I'm blue," she snapped, simply reacting to Evan's comments. This was why she hid herself away. Even in a place for people 'like her', she would still be the odd one out. Still be pointed at, pointed out.

From the looks of him, Evan was one of those many mutants who could pretend that they were human. Fiona never could.

It was only because Evan truly did not understand the enormity of Fiona's mutation that he thought it was cool. Perhaps when he learned that she had been kept in a form of house arrest for five years, he would realise how terrible it was.

But no, he was still going on and on about how cool it is. That was it, she had to put a stop to it. "Whatever it is you want to do -" how could he do that, anyway? "- you do not. Trust me." Although she remained in her seat, she visibly withdrew, shrinking into herself. But, she would have to say it all.

"I have been completely blue since I was fifteen. Since then, I have only left my property maybe a dozen times. Except for Halloween, I have to disguise myself, which takes hours. I never left my house for several months, until we moved somewhere where I could stand in my own garden. I still won't be able to move beyond the edges of this place."

She did not intend to give a speech, but now that she had started it, Fiona was going to finish it. "While you may think of it as cool, I do not. Your mutation may be cool and fun, and that is great. Really." Her blue lips twisted into an unhappy smile. "But my mutation is the reason why some mutants readily welcome the idea of a cure."

[Evan Sutherland]

"- you do not. Trust me."

And she would know better than anyone else however, Evan really hadn’t thought of it as a bad thing at first. It was one thing for him to think it was cool and yet a totally other one for her to live each day like that. His mind wasn’t concentrating at all on the negative aspects, for instance, her being made fun of or anything else.

Fiona went along on her little speech and his head lowered. Evan shoved the last bit of apple into his mouth chewing slowly for hadn’t he just made an ass of himself.

Think before you speak Evangelos. That sounded like his father’s mother in his head.

“Look, sorry,” Evan said after he finally swallowed the piece of fruit, “I take it it’s not a good thing to you. In my way of trying to welcome you…” Which I did a horrible job of… “I just made you think I was some weirdo…” Evan slumped slightly in his chair. Honestly! He had meant no harm!

“Can you forgive me?” If not, could she at least be civil towards him? He looked over at his mother, as if for help on the matter.