ARE YOU IN, OR ARE YOU OUT?

By George Cameron and Ryan Krupienski

Cafeteria; Xavier Institute

Sage Alcazar’s first thought when she entered the Xavier Institute’s cafeteria was one of awestruck amazement. Students of every shape and size, some three hundred strong, occupied the cavernous room for dinner. The sun had already set for the evening, and since Angela Molton’s remodeling of the estate mere weeks before the beginning of the new semester, the cafeteria now had enormous plate-glass windows that made up an entire wall, showing a view of the estate’s new hedge maze, the athletic courts, and past them, the student dormitories.

Her tray of food in hand, the Latino girl known as Jinx began to look around for a table to sit at. As she hadn’t been assigned to a squad yet, she didn’t even have the option of sitting with her squadmates. But if there was anything Jinx was good at, it was making friends. She just had one of those personalities, when her attitude wasn’t getting in the way. Besides, she was dressed to kill tonight, and if she couldn’t make any new friends tonight, she’d at least draw a few stares and get herself put on the social radar.

“Hey, aren’t you new?” came a deceptively sweet-sounding voice from Jinx’s left.

Jinx turned to face the girl who’d addressed her, who sat with two of her friends at a lunch table that was otherwise unoccupied. One of her friends had beautiful hazelnut hair that she left long and unbound, and with a bit of the wind-blown look going for it as well. The other girl had golden-blonde hair that was messily swept up, leaving her bangs to fall on a face that radiated with innocence. The girl in the middle, who’d addressed Jinx, had no such innocent air about her. Her raven-black hair was worn long and layered, parted straight down the middle and framing a beautiful face. Her mascara and eyeliner beautifully accented her ice-blue eyes, and Jinx could see the gloss shimmering in the lunchroom lights. The girl wore a black leather jacket and a white baby-doll t-shirt, upon which were the words “I ADORE DIOR” in black, shimmering sequins. Jinx instantly sized up this girl, and her first impression wasn’t a flattering one.

“Yeah,” Jinx replied, casually brushing a lock of her own midnight hair back behind an ear.

“Well, what’s your name?” the girl asked, her two friends flanking her wordlessly.

“Sage. Sage Alcazar.”

The girl laughed, a rather annoying sound, and a heartbeat later, her friends joined in. “What’s your other name, Sage Alcazar?”

Jinx smiled widely, showing just a little too much gum. “Jinx.”

The girl inclined her head just slightly. “Sit with us, Jinx.”

Jinx nodded, and set her tray down on the table across from the girl. She was acutely aware of more than a few pair of eyes watching the exchange, but she paid them no mind. The girl extended a hand to Jinx, and she noticed that the girl had exquisitely manicured and French-tipped nails. High-maintenance. “I’m Carla. Carla Santini. But you can call me Vixen.”

Vixen’s voice was just a little too high-pitched for Jinx’s taste, and it confirmed her initial impression that Vixen was a bitch. So far, she hadn’t said or done anything to offend or hurt Jinx, but if she did… well, Jinx knew how to deal with bitchy girls.

“So what squad are you on, Jinx?” Vixen asked.

“Oh, I don’t have a squad yet. I just got here today. What about you?”

Vixen smiled. “Oh, I’m squad leader of the Diaboliques. You know, Domino’s squad?”

Jinx nodded. “Yeah, I know, the squad that’s all girls.”

“Yep,” Vixen replied. “Sofia and Laurie here are on the Hellions squad together.” Vixen turned her head to her left and to her right very briefly before refocusing her attention on Jinx.

“I’ve heard a lot about the Hellions today, actually,” Jinx offered.

“Oh yeah?” That was from the blonde. “Like what?”

“Well, I heard some kids in the hall talking about how all the most popular students at the school were in the same squad together, and how weird they thought it was that the Hellions all got to stick together,” Jinx replied.

The girls laughed. “Well,” Vixen replied, “except for me and a couple of others, yeah. And speaking of Hellions…”

Jinx followed Vixen’s gaze, and came upon a strikingly handsome young man, with stylishly mussed black hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. Wearing a black polo, which clung to his toned upper torso like a second skin, white khakis, and black Kenneth Coles, Jinx immediately knew who he was. Julian Keller, known better as Hellion and leader of the Hellions squad.

After Vixen tossed him a smile, Hellion came over to join her at the table. “Hey, Carla, what’s up?” His voice was deep and very masculine, and had Jinx been one of the girls sitting at the table, she might have been a little taken by him. But this was a girl who’d probably had more sex than all three girls would have in the next ten years combined, and a high school boy like Julian Keller wouldn’t cut it with her.

Vixen smiled. “Oh, just getting to know Jinx here. Have you met Jinx yet?”

Hellion’s gaze turned on Jinx, and she met his eyes unflinchingly. She’d had more attractive and worldly men pay for the pleasure of her company, and she wasn’t about to be sucked into some high school popularity drama with Hellion. She extended her hand to him, a hand that bore more than a couple of very expensive rings, and he raised it to his lips in a move that she was sure he believed was debonair.

It took everything she had not to laugh in his face.

“I’m Julian. But everyone here calls me Hellion.” He leaned in a little closer, and Jinx had to make a visible effort not to roll her eyes. “You, however, can call me anything you want.”

Just to massage his ego a little (because it never hurt to grease the wheels with the most popular guy in school), she let a sly smile slide onto her features, and a coquettish laugh escape her lips. When Hellion returned her smile with a boyish grin that he obviously thought was a lady-killer, she knew she’d done her homework.

“I’m Sage. I mean, Jinx.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sage-I-mean-Jinx.” Vixen and her two friends chuckled quietly.

“So, has anyone shown you around the school yet?” Hellion asked.

“No, but I do have an appointment to meet with Miss… Moonstar?” Jinx replied.

Vixen and her friends chuckled again, and Julian grinned snidely. “Oh, you can cancel that appointment. Miss Moonstar is a loser, anyway. Carla, why don’t you show her around?”

Jinx turned to face Vixen, who stood up from her seat. Jinx could see the leather mini-skirt that Vixen wore, a skirt that did absolutely nothing to hide a pair of tan, well-toned legs. Jinx was actually a little jealous about that; her legs were always on the slightly thinner side, but she still thought they were one of her best features.

“Oh, I’d love to show you around, Jinx,” Vixen replied even as her two friends stood and moved toward Hellion. Much to her surprise, each girl attached herself to one of his arms, and the trio began to move into the lunchroom together. Hellion stopped to look over his shoulder at Jinx then. “I’ll see you around, Sage-I-mean-Jinx,” he said, tossing her a quick wink.

What an idiot, Jinx thought to herself.

The Xavier Institute wasn’t at all what Air Force had expected. When Miss Manh had first brought him to the mutant school, he expected that everyone here would be cool.Definitely not the case, he thought to himself as he grabbed his tray and began hunting for a table. It already looked like he was going to be stuck on a squad filled with losers and assholes, with one or two exceptions, and he wondered if it was too early to put in a request for a transfer.

From what he’d heard, the Hellions were where it was at. All of the Institute’s most popular students were there, including that delicious hunk of mutant Julian Keller, and their advisor was probably the most unique and interesting teacher there: a Roman princess that had the power to create volcanoes. All sorts of rumors floated around the school about Miss Aquilla, not all of them flattering, and Air Force found that it made her more interesting in his eyes.

Even now, he could see Miss Aquilla at one of the faculty tables, eating her dinner with Miss Moonstar and Miss Manh, and he could see the expression of imperious, haughty detachment on her sculpted features. Not a care in the world. Air Force envied that, in a way. Besides, Miss Aquilla had a style all her own: Roman goddess meets Stevie Nicks, and he definitely approved.

Suddenly, he collided solidly with the craggy form of Santo Vaccarro, the Hellion known as Rockslide. Rockslide resembled nothing so much as he did the Thing, of the Fantastic Four, except that his stone-skin was as gray as granite. The Puerto Rican Hellion Brian Cruz, known as Tag, was at his side. As Air Force’s tray fell to the floor with a loud clatter, the students nearest the trio all turned to watch, eager to see what would happen next.

Rockslide poked a massive finger into Air Force’s chest. “Get the hell outta my way, fag.”

Air Force’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”

Tag laughed, and Rockslide’s features curled impossibly into a grin. “Yeah, you’d like that too much, wouldn’t you?”

Air Force matched Rockslide’s grin with an acidic sneer of his own. “Don’t flatter yourself, breeder.” And with that, he moved to sidestep Rockslide and extricate himself from the conversation, such as it was.

Rockslide, however, moved to block his path. “Who said you could leave?”

“I did,” came a very stern voice from behind Rockslide, a voice Air Force recognized.

The trio all turned to see Miss Manh, her arms folded across her chest and a very unpleasant look on her face. “Santo, Brian, be somewhere else.”

After tossing Air Force a couple of nasty, even threatening looks, the two Hellions moved to depart. Air Force returned their veiled threats with a wink and an air kiss, just to piss them off a little something extra. Miss Manh then turned to regard Air Force, and shook her head.

“Boyd,” she began, “you know that’s not the way to handle situations like that.”

“Oh?” he asked. “You’d prefer I just bury my head in the sand?”

“Of course not,” Miss Manh replied.

“Then get on their case, not mine, because all I was doing was defending myself,” he spat angrily, stepping past Miss Manh before she could reply. Before she could catch him, he had already lost himself among the hundreds of students eating dinner in the cafeteria.

Vixen carefully leaned against the lunchroom table, giving Jinx a slow once-over with her appraising eye. “You got style, girlfriend, I’ll definitely say that much.” Jinx was glad she’d chosen this particular outfit: a knee-length black jacket with violet trim and silver balls serving as buttons, a violet baby-doll t-shirt with a silver “J” embroidered on the chest (revealing just a hint of midriff), a black leather mini-skirt that rivaled Vixen’s own for sheer revealing quality, a pair of black, knee-high spike leather boots, and a violet-and-black leather belt with silver buckle that cinched the coat at her waist. “You definitely look the part of your codename.”

“Oh, thanks,” Jinx replied. “I figure first impressions count for a lot here, right?”

Vixen nodded. “You got that right.” She linked her arm through Jinx’s, and began to lead her through the lunchroom. “You’re so lucky you walked by our table, too.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Well,” Vixen replied, “you could’ve ended up making that great first impression with the wrong people. Like… her.”

Jinx’s eyes moved to where Vixen was pointing, and she noticed a table where five perfectly identical girls sat. The girls were very pretty, beautiful even, in a Hilary Duff-sort-of-way. Even their clothes, white baby-doll t-shirts with brown-and-white plaid-patterned skirts and matching hats, were identical. Their eyes were also all aglow with an inner, white light, and Jinx instantly sensed the power that radiated from them. In a normal school, she’d expect girls that looked like that to be at the top of the social order, but here… she didn’t get that impression at all. “Who are they?”

Vixen smiled. “That’s Sophia Frost. And her twisted sisters.”

“Wow,” Jinx said. “All five of them are identical? What do they call that?”

“Actually, that’s just one girl. Unfortunately for her, she can’t handle her own mutation, so she has to split up the workload,” Vixen replied, unable to keep a sneer out of her voice.

“Really? What’s her power?” Jinx asked.

“Oh, she’s a telepath. Supposedly, she’s one of the most powerful telepaths in the world.”

Jinx regarded the girls, awestruck. A moment later, all five of them turned their heads to look directly at her… and call her crazy, but Jinx felt as if they could see straight into her heart. But before she had time to linger, she felt Vixen begin to tug at her arm. “Let’s go,” Vixen commented.

“What a cool power to have… being able to know what everyone’s thinking all the time,” Jinx said.

“Yeah, but it’s too bad she never seems to realize that nobody likes her. She’s just so… random, so plastic. And let’s not even talk about her bitch of a mother. But I’m gonna stop myself before I say something nasty,” Vixen said with pure condescension dripping from her words like venom.

Even in a school full of freaks, Jinx began to realize, there were still… freaks.

“Hey, y’all, mind if Ah sit here?” said the friendly yet country-fied voice of Bootylicious to the two students sitting at the table before her.

“Not at all,” said Calculator, who sat next to the enigmatic Integer. The reclusive young man, who looked to Bootylicious like a cloud of cigarette smoke that had taken human shape, nodded to her politely as she sat down, causing the table to lean noticeably to her side. Calculator and Integer both discreetly held onto their trays to prevent them from sliding forward.

“Thank ya kindly, boys,” she replied. “Ah just wanted t’come over here so’s Ah can get t’know mah new squadmate… and Ah know you’re th’only guy he talks to here.”

Calculator shook his head. “It’s not a matter of choice for him, Tammy Lynne,” he replied. “Trent can’t talk to anyone else.”

“What d’ya mean?” Bootylicious asked. “Don’t he know English?”

Calculator laughed, and turned to Integer. “Say hello, Trent.”

Integer regarded Bootylicious carefully, and when he “spoke,” it caught her by surprise. <0011010001011101,> he “said.”

Bootylicious blinked a couple times in confusion, and looked askance at Calculator. “What’d he say?”

Calculator laughed again. “He said ‘What’s up?’ Tammy Lynne.”

Bootylicious turned again to regard Integer for a moment. “Sounded like mah computer tryin’ to load something!”

Calculator nodded. “He only speaks in binary code. It makes social situations a little… awkward for him.”

Thinking for a moment, Bootylicious offered Integer a dazzling smile. “Ah’m sorry if’n Ah was rude t’ya, Trent. Ah didn’t know.”

<0111011110101101010101001010101100010101011,> Integer replied, nodding his head.

“What’d he say?”

“He said it’s okay and not to worry about it,” Calculator replied.

“How come they didn’t assign y’all to our squad, if you speak in bah-nary?” Bootylicious asked.

Calculator shrugged. “I don’t know. And to tell you the truth, neither of us are too happy about the situation.”

“Ah s’pose they know best,” Bootylicious said.

“Hi, guys,” said Velocity, who had just arrived at the table. “Mind if I join you?”

“Hey, Ami,” said Calculator. “Have a seat.”

Velocity sat down, greeting each of them in turn. “This is so exciting, you guys.”

“What?” asked Bootylicious.

“You know, being in squads,” she replied. “We’re on our way to becoming real X-Men!”

“Yeah, well, some of us aren’t too keen on that idea,” Calculator said.

“Y’all don’t wanna be X-Men one day?” Bootylicious asked.

Calculator shook his head. “I’ve got other plans in mind. Integer does, too.”

“And what about you, Tammy Lynne?” Velocity asked.

Bootylicious smiled. “Oh, Ah wanna lead th’ X-Men one day!”

Velocity laughed. “You gotta beat me there first!”

Bootylicious joined her in laughter. “You’re on!”

“I know this is a stupid question before I ask it, but do you mind if I sit with you?” Air Force asked the sullen Saudi known as Sirocco, who ate his dinner at an otherwise-empty table.

Sirocco didn’t even look up to acknowledge Air Force’s presence.

“Good,” Air Force said snidely as he sat down across from Sirocco. “I figure, since we’re on the same squad, we should at least get to know each other, right?” He didn’t add that he thought Sirocco was incredibly attractive. He never really noticed it until this moment. But now that he got a good look at him, without the added distraction of the morons in the squad, he was pretty hot.

After a few moments of silence, Air Force smirked. “Strong and silent type, huh? It’s cute for you.”

With that, Sirocco looked up to meet Air Force’s eyes. Even Air Force was a little taken aback by the lifelessness in his dark gaze. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Air Force asked, confused.

“Don’t court me,” Sirocco said evenly.

Air Force burst out laughing. After a moment, he’d calmed himself enough to respond. “Court you? Oh, you’re too much!” He continued laughing. “I’ll admit, I think you’re cute, and I’m more than a little curious as to if you’re a boxers or briefs kinda guy, but that’s as far as it goes. You’ve only said four words to me EVER, so it’s a little early in the game for me to be courting you.”

He smirked then. “Besides, I don’t approach guys. I let them approach me. That’s just my style.” Air Force regarded Sirocco. “Nothing to say?”

Finishing his meal, Sirocco again met Air Force’s gaze evenly. “I do have one thing to say.” He slowly stood up from the lunch table, taking his tray with him as he moved to leave.

“In my country, we would do far worse than taunt you with a silly name for what you are,” he stated simply. Then he walked away, without another word.

Air Force narrowed his eyes at Sirocco’s back, unable to contain himself. Affecting a Middle Eastern accent, he spat out four simple, yet insulting, words.

“Thank you! Come again!”

“Well, Dani, your kids certainly are the colorful bunch,” said Xi’an Coy Manh, returning to join Danielle Moonstar and Amara Aquilla.

“Oh? What else have they done?” Moonstar asked.

“Well, I broke up an argument between Air Force and a couple of the Hellions, for starters,” Karma replied.

“What happened?” Moonstar asked.

“Well, Rockslide and Tag decided to give Air Force some bad-natured shit about his sexuality. I sent them on their way before it developed into a situation, though.”

Moonstar sighed. “Spirits, you’d think here the kids wouldn’t have to deal with something like that. This is supposed to be a place of tolerance, of acceptance.”

“What is the problem?” Amara Aquilla asked.

“Well, ‘Mara, it looks like you might need to have a talk about homophobia to some of your kids,” Karma said.

Confusion clouded Magma’s features. “What is homophobia?” she asked.

Moonstar decided to explain it to her. “You know what homosexuality is, don’t you, ‘Mara?”

Magma nodded. “A perfectly natural biological condition. And one that is quite acceptable in my society. We do not even consider it a condition worth discussion. It simply is.”

“Well, homophobia is the fear and hatred of homosexuality. Think of what prejudiced humans feel, say, and do to mutants, and you’d have a pretty good idea of what homophobes feel, say, and do to homosexuals.”

Moonstar looked at Karma. “Does that about cover it, Shan?”

Karma nodded. “More or less.”

Magma stood from her seat, her gaze already beginning to search out her wayward students. “I will attend to this matter immediately.”

Moonstar looked up at Magma. “What are you going to say, ‘Mara?”

Magma regarded the both of them evenly. “This school is a haven from intolerance and hatred of any kind. And I will not tolerate such behavior from my students.”

As Magma stalked off to find her students, Moonstar noticed Rahne Sinclair hurrying to join them. She looked winded, and Moonstar could feel the anxiety and even… fear… through their psionic bond.

Moonstar stood from her seat. “Rahney, what is it?”

“Liam…” Wolfsbane replied hoarsely. “He is dead!”

Athletic Court; Xavier Institute

Shaquanita Jenkins, already notorious on campus as Milkshake, was enjoying a pastime she hadn’t engaged in since she was a lil’ shorty in the projects: double-dutch. She had found two other ghettofab girls to kick it with: Lafawnduh Simmons, also known as Chicken Head, and Ebony Jones, known simply as Ebony. Ebony was a little on the lesbian side while Chicken Head was actually a little big and tall, looking freakishly like a man in drag.

The two bigger girls whirled the ropes for Ebony, when they saw a shadow move overhead. The shadow looked vaguely like a human form, although it appeared to be standing on top of something much larger, something that moved through the air silently. Stopping their game, Milkshake looked at the other two girls. “Who dat?” she asked.

“Let’s go see,” Ebony suggested.

The three of them dropped the rope and began heading in the direction of the movement. The shadow in the air had moved quickly past the athletic courts, descending rapidly toward the middle of the new hedge maze. Stopping just outside the hedge maze, the three girls regarded each other carefully.

“You sure we should go in there?” Chicken Head asked.

“Why, you scared?” Ebony asked.

“Shut up ‘fore we get caught!” Milkshake said. “Get in there!” And with that, she gave both girls a firm shove.

It took them no time at all to find the center of the maze, since they’d all been through it before. However, they certainly weren’t prepared to find what they found waiting at the center of it.

Clad in his Wrecking Crew finest, the mutant progeny of Piledriver known more notoriously as Excavator had just stepped off the large rock he had used to fly through the skies, and Milkshake was impressed that he had landed without making any noise. She didn’t know he was that good. He folded his arms, and before any of them could see what he was looking at, a second figure stepped from the shadows.

It was a girl. A pretty Latino girl, wearing a crimson tank-top, a pair of low-riding, pinstriped black pants, a black leather belt with silver spikes, leather bands with silver spikes wrapped around her upper arms, a black leather choker with silver spikes, and black steel-toed boots. She wore her midnight-black hair long and unbound, letting it fall nearly to her waist, and the red eye-mask she wore matched the color of her tank-top perfectly.

However, her most easily noticeable feature wasn’t her arresting beauty or her Avril Lavinge-like style. It was the technological monstrosity that was fused to her left hand. A sickly green color with even more sickly yellow accent, it resembled a gigantic, alien paw. It encased her arm all the way up to her elbow, and though the large metallic artifact looked to weigh more than she did, she appeared to wield it without any trouble.

Milkshake gasped quietly, making sure that the pair didn’t hear her. “Dat’s Southpaw!”

“Who dat?” Chicken Head asked.

“Fool, don’t you watch TV?” spat Ebony.

Milkshake nodded. “Dat’s Southpaw… she part of some bad shit. D-Generation or somethin’ like that.”

“Fo’ real?” Chicken Head asked.

“Sssh! I can’t hear!” said Ebony.

Southpaw grinned wickedly as she approached Excavator. “Miss me, Ricky?”

Excavator chuckled, and as he closed the distance with her, he wrapped his arms around her petite body and hoisted her up effortlessly. “You know I did, Sasha.” The two of them locked lips, and Milkshake rolled her eyes as they engaged in a messy make-out session.

Suddenly, Chicken Head fell forward rather clumsily, and before Milkshake or Ebony could catch her, she’d actually fallen through the hedge they were eavesdropping through and drew the attention of Excavator and Southpaw.

“Who’s there?” Excavator demanded.

Milkshake came around the corner, deciding to play it cool. “Oh, me, dat’s all.”

Southpaw put her one good hand on her hip, and smirked at Milkshake. “Who’s this Aunt Jemima wannabe? One of your little squadmates?”

Milkshake’s eyebrows raised at that, and she took a step forward. “What, bitch?”

Southpaw suddenly raised her weapon, and a flash of topaz energy surged forth from the “palm” of the paw, knocking Milkshake flat on her rather corpulent rear.

“You heard me, Shaneequa,” Southpaw retorted, even swiveling her head on her neck as she said heard.

“Oh, you got jokes, cracka bitch?” Milkshake got to her feet unceremoniously, her hands already working at removing her multiple earrings, and cast a glance in the direction of where her two new friends were still hidden. “Ebony, Lafawnduh, go get tha Vaseline and tha straight razors. This bitch on some otha’ shit…”

NEXT ISSUE: While Rahne and Shan help Dani uncover the mystery of Backdraft’s apparent death, Milkshake and her friends go toe-to-toe with Excavator and Southpaw! Also, see Magma give new meaning to the word “discipline” as she takes her Hellions to task for their behavior! Come back for issue three, “Use The Rod, Beat The Child”!