[identity profile] x-otoxic.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
New student Miles takes a self-guided tour of the school and meets Julian in the gym and learns more about the New Mutants.


Miles had never been a health nut or anything of the sort. Even after he manifested and donned the mask, he didn't work out or train beyond watching old kung fu movies to try to replicate their moves. Mundane exercise might not have done much good, anyway, because his abilities put him way beyond what any tread mill or free weight could offer. But Xavier's had a gym that was designed with the mutant like Miles in mind. A 500-pound dumbbell sat on the floor, apparently forgotten after someone's workout, so Miles picked it up with ease to put back onto the rack. It wasn't the heaviest weight, either, he saw. And several of the lifting machines were also fitted with weights that no mere human could lift.

Miles had to admit that this was all pretty freaking cool.

Towel in hand, Julian entered the weight room, mopping the sweat of his morning run from his forehead. He noticed the lights on from down the hall and assumed someone else was inside, but hadn't suspected the someone else would be a stranger to him. "Good morning," he waved, pouring himself a cup of water from the tap near the door and downing it in a single gulp. With a sigh he made his way over to the nearest free-weights rack and laid out his towel. Pausing, he turned back to the stranger, "Would you mind if I hooked my iPod up to the speakers?"

"Knock yourself out." Miles eyed the new guy as he went over to set up his music. He'd been surprised by the number of mutants who looked normal. Well, "normal" as in no extra limbs like Jumbo Carnation or weird faces like that Radian dude. The residents of the mansion were definitely a whole level of physically fit and attractive above the general population, though, so they weren't really normal normal. Maybe that was an x-gene effect, too? He'd have to look it up.

"Um, I'm new. Miles Morales," he introduced himself, suddenly remembering that staring at other people even when their backs were turned was rude as hell.

Macklemore started pumping through the built in speakers of the gym as Julian pulled weights off the rack and began fitting them on the bar by hand. "I know, I'm Julian Keller, one of your New Mutants advisers." Julian clapped off his hands and casually walked over to the younger man, extending a hand, "Welcome to the mansion, Miles- I'm glad to have you here."

Macklemore, though? Miles half-expected his spider-sense to go off to warn him of the danger of going deaf. He made a face but dropped it when Julian turned to him, and returned the handshake firmly. (But not firm enough to break the other man's hand.) "Oh, so the, uh, New Mutants, huh? Professor Xavier mentioned that. It's like karate class for mutants here?"

Julian smirked, "While there is a defensive component, it isn't the main focus of the program." Still speaking, Julian began to approach his free weights, "It's more like a lesson in teamwork, and a way to get you off campus every once in a while." Taking a seat, Julian stretched out his arms, still loosened up from his pre-run stretches, but not wanting to take any chances. "Hopefully no one gets eaten by robot dinosaurs this year," Julian shrugged and laid back, beginning his first set.

"You just gonna say 'eaten by robot dinosaurs' and not explain it?" Miles asked, picking up the 500-pound weight like it was nothing. He was totally not showing off.

"It's a long story," Julian said, racking the bar and shaking off his arms before starting again. Straining against the weight, he managed to get through the set and rack the weights, sitting up. "The short version is if a guy called Arcade ever offers to make you a super-hero, don't take him up on his offer." Julian had noticed the amount of weight the younger man was lifting before he started on the bench. "Super-strength then- what's your limit?" Not to be out done, Julian telekinetically lifted two more 45-pound weights off the rack and added them to the bar before starting to lift it, trying to divide his focus.

"I don't really know, actually. I've lifted a police cruiser over my head before." In Miles's defense, the cop was being racist so he didn't really deserve a car. "Ignore a guy named Arcade, okay. Is he, like, a super-villain or something? With a costume and nefarious schemes?" Maybe being a New Mutant until he could join the X-Men wouldn't be such a bad thing if they had their own rogue's gallery.

"Whoa, wait, Police cruiser? Okay, there's a story there-" Julian floated another set of weights onto a nearby bar before starting to lift that one two, his concentration being stretched thin. "Not that I'm judging, I've had my share of run ins with the law." Racking the weights he stretched his neck and worked out the stiffness in his fingers, getting up and moving over to the sanitation station to get the supplies he needed to wipe down the bench. "And yeah, super-jackass might be more accurate, but he is a sociopathic villain with a game obsession- I don't think he's popped up since that particular incident either." Julian mused on the fact that the absence of the second villain he'd ever faced down should probably worry him more than it did- he was not a super-hero. "You into comics?"

This white pretty boy had run-ins with the law? He must have done some real bad stuff, then. Intriguing. Miles wouldn't have pegged him for the type.

"Yeah, I read some comics," Miles answered, although he wouldn't admit to the stack of long boxes he had back home in his closet that housed every comic ever published by Milestone. Integral factors that influenced his Spider-Man identity, they were. "Why you ask?"

"You're asking if Arcade wore a costume and all that- you reminded me of a friend of mine, Doreen Green. She's around the mansion, you'd know her when you see her- she's the one with the pet squirrel, and the giant fuzzy squirrel tail. She got me into comics too, which is no small feat." He smiled, and moved to the squats station, being lazy and using his teekay to move weights off the rack and onto the bar. "If you need a ride into town to pick up your books on Wednesdays, just let me know...assuming you're not grounded for something, I've gotten in trouble for that before." Realization that he'd been in trouble a lot in his life dawned on him as he moved into position to do physical squats.

Pet squirrel. Why not? "No, I don't really buy anything. I just . . . it's all on TV and stuff, you know." Miles was looking for an excuse to switch to digital, anyway. "Do you? Read comics, I mean. You don't look the type."

Julian did his best not to laugh, as doing so would have ruined his concentration and likely have led to a nasty neck injury. Between reps, "You shouldn't judge a person based on appearance, Miles. Though it's true I used to read more- Doreen started me on a Teen Titans kick for a while, she even got me to play dungeons and dragons once...that ended-" he racked the weight and popped his neck. "Ended poorly. We got sucked into a pocket dimension where we were our D&D characters. Just because I'm good looking and popular, doesn't mean I can't like geeky things."

"Pocket dimension where you were your D&D characters." Those words made sense on their own, but not so much when put together into a sentence. Still, that was another adventure he'd missed out on. Spider-Man seemed so tame by comparison now. "How often does this happen? Can I expect a magic field trip next week?"

Julian shrugged as all the machine he was working with and the two flanking it started to glow a luminous green and lift on their own. "Hope that you don't actually. One guy...Nick...he died on that one, only not really. Turns out it was all just a game so when we got back, he was okay. Still...he died not too long after that." Julian chuckled as the machines paused, holding for a moment, "Come to think of it, that apparently didn't take either- he's dating Catseye, I think."

Miles wasn't sure whether to be more impressed by the story of defying death (twice, no less) or Julian using his mind to lift hundreds of pounds all at once. "So you all don't half-ass anything here, do you? You're all . . . you know, full-ass."

Julian guffawed, the weights dropping a foot before he regained his focus adn racked them. "You're a funny guy- but it's actually my job to make sure we don't have adventures like that. People get hurt, I'd rather avoid that and if you think about it, I'm sure you would too." The towel left abandoned on the bench press floated to Julian with a bit too much speed. The mentor caught it, but it knocked him back a bit. "Damn."

"People keep telling me that I'm hilarious. I don't do prop comedy, though. That's too low on the totem pole." Miles had no place to carry props, anyway. No pouches on his costume. "I think I'ma head back upstairs and finish unpacking. Nice meeting you, Julian."

"Good to meet you too, Miles- let me know if you need anything," Julian mopped off his brow and draped the towel on the rack behind him- a reminder to clean later- as several heavy medicine balls floated off a nearby rack and began to circle around him.

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