LokixReader - All for an Ounce of Love - Part 2

ATTENTION: This story is best viewed in a word processing document with the following items replaced with the corresponding words.
After copying and pasting the document into an editable file, use the find and replace tool in these ways:

f/n - Full name. It can be as full as you want it to be. Since I can't predict what you're going to place here, I would stray from attempting sarcasm
f/f - Full first name. This is only if you are using a nickname. Please put your birth name here instead.
r/n - Reader's name. Use a nickname or what you would like to be called throughout the story.
r/b/n - Reader's name in bold. Exactly what it sounds like. Ex: Katie.
e/c - Eye color. Be as specific as you want.
r/a - Reader's age.


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Enjoy ;3

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Leaving my old life behind isn't proving to be all that easy...at least emotionally. But I think I half expected that to be the case when I was packing up all of my things. And when I left my front door. And when I looked back at the thing as I was walking away. But as I place my books on these standard bookshelves, my clothes in the bare, walk-in closet and three separate dressers, and my toiletries in the dark grey bathroom it's becoming clear to me that this is all...right. This is where I belong.

Back home I felt so wrong and out of sorts with the way things were going, like I was destined for something greater. The people around me were weak and foolish, fully content with their lot. At least, they were coping a lot better than I was. But now it's plain to see that I was right about myself. I was right about that sinking feeling in my heart whenever I went to work, the churning pit at the base of my stomach whenever I waved to my neighbors.

But that's all gone now. I'm a mutant. Better than I was. At least I hope that my mutation is an upgrade from normal human standing. That would be the biggest let down of my life--no, that is not a sock--but Shirleigh did say that I was a special case. Still very curious to know what that even means.

r/b/n. Reverberating, accented bellows pulse in at me through the dead space in my skull, causing me to drop what would have been the last book to be put into its rightful place, transfiguring the pristine thing into a clattering, page crumpling mess on the floor. Right. Telepathy. Yes, apologies, I didn't mean to startle you. Please come to the front lobby as soon as you can. The others are here and we need to begin your orientation.

And I don't need to lock my door because it automatically--Yes, you have it right--Awesome.

--

"Hello everyone." Although he's pausing for an answer, no one seems to be giving him one.

"Hello professor." Using my usual, casual smile, I take the chance to be a bit proactive in earning a good place in Xavier's book. Not that I plan to be a menace while I'm here, but people can't generally be trusted to make me look as good as I wish to. He shines me a sly smirk beneath the eerie nature of the turned heads of the other students before continuing on in his introduction.

"I am Professor Charles Xavier and the founder of this estate." He slips a finger over the control stick of his trusty wheelchair and slides to the left-most side of the line, taking a good look at us all. "I trust that you have already been briefed on the reason that you are here, but I would like to elaborate and introduce the six of you to each other. I believe that it will be beneficial to at least be familiar with someone from your universe in case things prove to be a little bit overwhelming.
"To begin with, I would like to say thank you for making no fuss about coming here. I understand how odd it must be to hear that you are carriers of the x-gene. I will not lie. It is a difficult burden to bear at times. However, I think you are all quite capable of gaining control of your individual manifestations of this mutation. That is why I have asked your government to exchange you for some of the people in this universe...those who wish to be away from the chaos that ensues here from time to time.
"On that note, I am sure you are quite curious about the circumstances of our knowing about you at all. Today, we have a student with us who has a very special name. f/n." His hand extends meaningfully toward me from across the line of mutants and once again I'm burdened with glorious heaps of malcontent. I can almost hear them thinking about how annoyed they are with me already. "You have the same name as the woman that put this program together.
"Because she was taken from your universe and happened to carry the x-gene, we were made aware of your circumstances and...potential."

"So that's why you want us here. You want us to do your bidding." Gravelly, bending words erupt from my left, drawing the flicker of my gaze. Shaggy brown hair sits atop a sculpted visage, plainly jagged in all the right places. Nearly black eyes find my own e/c ones for a moment before he gets back to explaining himself. "I watched some of the movies. You make people do what you can't. Send 'em in dangerous places to do whatever. And they follow you like sheep." He stands proudly, arrogantly as he plasters his odd distrust out in front of everyone to see.

Interesting...are you an idiot, my dear man?

Before I can get over my assessment of his internals to take a look at his externals (possibly attractive externals), Xavier takes a breath so sharp that my attention is sucked straight up to his roving figure. Sitting near the center of the string of potential students, the man tents his fingers and opens his mouth for a moment before beginning his ridicule of the speaker.

"They make the choice, as you will be doing. I only ask that you give this all a chance. When you agreed to come over here, you accepted those terms at the very least." For some reason, this simple string of words sets the man at ease and the Professor relents to continue on in his explanation of why we're here.

"f/f is an empath and is currently residing in Stark Tower with her fiancée, Bruce Banner. She was the one who actually suggested the idea after coming to the realization that others from your universe might have also needed this outlet. She said that although she lost just about everything when she came here, she found more than she could ever have hoped to have and thought that the rest of you could benefit from this opportunity as well." Sounds like a smart woman, even if she has stolen my name. Now I'll be famous for all the wrong reasons. "Thankfully we were able to scrounge up enough funds to be able to transport you over here, as well as the other hundred and two students that have been scheduled for transport." Shit ton of people.

"You can really handle that many students?" I cross my arms as I take advantage of the break in his speech.

"As long as you all can get at least fifty dollars of income every week, yes. Anything else you earn is yours to keep. I apologize for having to relinquish a bit of the responsibility to you all, but our resources aren't that far reaching, unfortunately." Xavier tilts his head slightly, examining the row of seemingly normal students. "Why don't you introduce yourselves to each other? Name and age will do, but you can add anything else that you would like to share.
"Why don't we start with you?" His hand extends toward me,  and the others look again in their usual hive-minded manner.

"r/n, r/a," I ease out of my lips, looking at the man to my left expectantly. His dark skin stands out against the cream of his current background, shining beautifully in the copious amounts of light. Taking his bottom lip between his pearly teeth for a moment, the man straightens his back to emphasize his massive stature.

"Trent Johnson--"
"Like...really?" The man casts his attention further down the line toward the one who had spoken earlier about his obvious anti-authoritarianism. "I'm John Trent."

"What are the odds," Trent calmly states, clearly unbothered by the outburst. "I'm twenty six. I like to run." The tan brunette makes a few disgruntled noises at the lack of interest that everyone is having at the similar names before the next person down the line begins to speak.

"I'm Mia Rose, I'm seventeen years old and I spend as much time as I can in the sunshine." Oh, lovely. With a dip of my posture, I take a gander at the girl; her blonde hair shoots down from the top of her head like unkempt hay, shining to near translucence in contrast to her olive skin. She's a good foot shorter than Trent, but she seems to be just as calm and gentle as the darker gentleman.

"Just call me Tia! I'm fifteen!--But I have no idea what else to say." The small girl next to Mia scratches at her pale, bare arms as she looks between all of the interested persons in the room. Her lightly browned hair flips around with the tousling of her dark-green iris and her exaggerated movements.

"Ah, yeah, nice to meet you all," John pops in, staring at the young girl in a way that's making me worry for her safety, and quickly flips his vision over the rest of the group, "I'm John, like I said, but call me Joe. I hate my given name. Anyway, I'm twenty and I like sports." His words stop abruptly as he returns his gaze to the poor lady at his right, relinquishing the floor to the last person in line: a man who seems to take rather good care of himself.

Although he's a bit shorter than the other guys he's still a little bit taller than myself. Choppy, honey coloured tendrils of hair frame his young face as he looks toward the rest of us, brilliantly hazel-green eyes darting fluidly between each of our bodies.

"Call me Phene." Slipping his right elbow into his left hand, the man flips his hair in an effeminate sort of way. Strange how I've always found gender ambiguity to be attractive...but I suppose it's suitable for this instance since he is staring right at me. "I'm twenty-two."

With the clearing of Xavier's throat, I'm brought back to the realm of the sexually un-frustrated and he once again takes the metaphorical stage.

"Good. Now that we're all acquainted, there are a few things that I need for all of you to do for me. Tonight, before you go to bed, I wish for you to take the surveys that are designated in your handbooks. These are simply to assess where you place in the educational system used in the mansion and you will not be penalized at all for anything that you get wrong. Do remember, however, to take it seriously. It's important that your mental faculties are exercised properly and these questionnaires will make sure that this is the case.
"Aside from that, please feel free to wander around the compound at your leisure. I will not be asking for any rent until the end of next month, so you have that much time to find a method of employment. For now let us take a quick tour around the building."

--

Turns out that the largest part of the institute's acreage actually extends into the forest behind the North Wing so the tour lasted for maybe twenty minutes. We all broke off to do our own thing at that point and here I am, being an efficient little home-body. It's better to get the damn test out of the way as it is so I can just focus on getting a job. Actually, I wonder if Xavier is hiring around here. That way I won't be asked to work too much...The work asked of you around here is communal upkeep and you will not be reimbursed for your duties, however clever that idea may have been.

Well damn. Also, do I get any privacy, sir?

No answer. Good. Grand. At least the results are calculating quickly. I want to just be done with all of this necessary crap so I can get settled in and start living my life again--I didn't have a life in the first place. That's why I was so happy when they contacted me. Confused and paranoid at first, sure, but definitely happy. It was like I was given the option to run away with a god for a husband and live happily ever after in the land of the elves.

Results complete. Okay; catalogue...so I get like ten classes to choose from? That seems...limited. Couldn't they have just sent me to a regular university? Then again, I suppose if my powers are supposed to be manifesting, that could be dangerous for the normal folk that I would be learning with. Okay, fair enough, but this doesn't seem fair to my educational growth.

The glow from my computer burns into my eyes as I stare at the options for another few moments. We've got some really terrible ones here, so let's just cross those off...And what's left is the minimum requirement. Convenient.

Now for a job. Where would be a decent place to work? I don't think I want to deal with food service...unless it's a job as a waitress. I'm sure my charming smile would get me more than a few tips--sarcasm is just sad when used in internal dialogue--but I think I'd prefer something a little more quiet. Like...a librarian? Do they even get paid? I think I've heard that it's mostly a volunteer position.

Bookstore. Perfect.

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