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Well, that was entertaining. Who knew welding gloves and a digital camera could produce such wonderful revenge?

I hope you enjoyed your bath, Alison. I know I did. At least I didn't scent the lake before I dropped you in. Sorry about the blouse, though. I'll replace it for you.

Wet silk clings so lovingly, wouldn't you agree?

Love and kisses,
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I still stink of roses and the Silly String got _everywhere_, but at least I gave as good as I got.

Need some help in cleaning the Danger Room?

I _will_ have my revenge.

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Hello all.

Professor Xavier has been kind enough to give me a teaching position here at the Institute. I'll be taking over Mr Dayspring's Arabic class next term, as well as some other duties that he has asked me to perform. I'll be working closely with Mr Dayspring in the meantime to get up to speed on what he has already covered. We'll be formulating next term's lesson plan together.

I know that my last stay here was ... counterproductive. All I can promise is that I will not allow myself to be goaded like that again. Not for any reason.

I've been given my old room back, if anyone has any questions or would like to wander by and say hello.

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I'm back in Marrakesh, posting this message via means best not talked about. The bill is going to be enormous, I've been spoiled by America.

I can't exactly say that I _enjoyed_ my time at the Mansion, but it was educational. I saw what I guess I needed to see, and did what I felt that I needed to do. I've seen the means used in America to solve the mutant problem, and, well, they just won't work anywhere but in America.

And the jury is still out on whether or not they'll work in America, either.

I'll be here, in North Africa, doing whatever it is that I have to to give my people a future. If you need me, ask, and I may come.

If I need your help, will you be there for me?


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Can't say exactly that I'm surprised.

The boy has no control. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it. I'd be willing to place good money (not that I'm a gambling man...) on the idea that Jono will be fussed over, sympathized with, coddled, and allowed to continue on his uncontrolled, unchecked ways with zero efforts to correct his problems.

But I'm not a betting man.

What I'm wondering is how long it will take before instead of filling a bed in the Infirmary Jono fills one of the graves out back?


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Let me speak to you of manifestations.

I discovered, shortly after arriving to America for the first time, that I could fly.

Like an angel, just with no wings and with a roaring sound and the stink of chemicals.

Well, all good silver linings come with dark clouds, and mine was a problematic gift.

I'm not immune to my own power. So many of you all are. You can't be blasted with your own power, you can't be injured just by using your abilities. Sonme of you even have forcefields that protect your tender flesh from the backwash of your power.

I don't.

The first day I flew, I basically just hovered in place for a bit. It was marvelous. Then I flew higher. And faster. And higher. And faster. And it felt _wonderful_.

Then I crossed a threshold - the threshold where my mutant flesh ignites.

My own power burned me. I could hear the flesh of my back and legs sizzling, smell the sickly-sweet stench of my own body. I blacked out from the pain, and plummetted back to Earth at 9.8 m/s^2 + my original velocity. I believe the final toll of the damage done was that I lost both legs, third degree burns over 45% of my torso, a half-dozen shattered ribs, and two broken arms. It took a specialized trauma team an entire week to excise half of my body and replace it with bleeding-edge machines and custom software.

Does _that_ satisfy your curiousity?


The sky...

Jul. 16th, 2003 07:53 pm
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is beautiful at night.

Especially when you're cruising at a thousand feet or so.

If anyone heard something like an explosion from the back porch last night - well, that would have been me.

Flying makes me feel clean. I wonder why I don't see too many other flyers in the sky at night?

Lorna, let me know when you're free. I owe you a flight.

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in updating this journal.

The repair and rehabilitation sessions have gone wonderfully. It seems that I have near-total use of my legs now when in bipedal mode. Crawling still has a bug in it, and don't ask me to dance, but the best news of all is...

... the flight stabilizers are 100% again.

I can fly once again.

Rahne, bless her, has been most helpful during my ... convalescence. Thank you.

My time with you all is drawing short. Seems that things back in Marrakesh are getting a little ... fervent.
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Apparently a little black-and-white ... figurine ... just ran past my room door.

It was dragging a stuffed animal by its ear behind it.

Is this normal behavior?

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in my courtesy.

Several of the students have wandered by, electronically speaking, to introduce themselves and I have not bothered to reply.

So, in the interest of getting-to-know-people, I have decided that I will spend the evening rotting my brain with American television. If you wish to chat, or say hello, feel free to stop by.

Popcorn will be served.


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It was interesting. Still, I think I prefer bowing my head respectfully in submission to God rather than all the pomp and circumstance.

Besides, all the sitting and kneeling and standing was really getting on my nerves. It _hurt_!

But at least the music was ,,, interesting. I'm more used to just singing without music.

And, once again, I was reminded of the Christian obsession with graven images. God lives in our _hearts_, people, not hanging from our necks or all over our walls!

But I do not begrudge them their faith. They worship Allah, even if they do not know Him by that name. I did not really enjoy the readings - too many religious differences, I don't want to get under the skins of my temporary house-mates.

Kurt is ... very devout. I would never defile my own flesh so, but I can sort of understand why he does it. The others were fairly typical - a little French girl, the big Russian (so much for the storied Russian atheism!), the green-haired temptress American, and the African.

Ororo confuses me. Her ancestry is clearly African; I can hear it on her tongue, but she seems so ... American. She flaunts her body openly, and she is completely lacking in respect. But that's what America does to you, so I should not complain too much.

After Church, I did something I should not of - I tried to fly.

And I was punished for my presumption. I got maybe a dozen feet off the ground before the stabilizer went, and I crashed back to earth. I do not think anyone saw me, but my entire right side is a little tender right now. So much so that I had to miss the basketball game.

Still no sign of Professor Xavier. I believe I overheard one of the children mention something about a Cerebro?

Ah well. I believe that the phrase is "In for a penny, in for a pound?"

There's a beer under the sink that is calling to me.

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I must say, the school is a magnificent structure. Much nicer than my previous school.

Of course, I am not here to learn, but rather to be repaired and to talk to this Xavier person.

But it seems that no-one is currently in residence, and I do not think random exploration would be looked upon kindly. And since my thrice-cursed legs are badly out of balance, I think that I shall collapse on this overstuffed couch and rot my brain with a little American television.

Maybe someone will come home soon, so I can properly introduce myself.
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