xp_logs | Log: Intro Danielle Moonstar!

A week hitchhiking to no-where in the freezing cold without sleep.

Danielle Moonstar Gilbert trudged down the highway, not even trying to hitch a ride into nowhere anymore. All she cared about was not sleeping. That was important. So far, she'd managed nearly two days, despite what her body wanted. Shivering as a gust of wind caused the bare shrubs to rustle, she wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. She didn't have a jacket.

Haroun, in the Jeep, was driving at the listed minimum, looking closely for someone walking along the side of the road. Charles had told him that she was on this road, but not precisely _where_.

Finally, he saw the girl up ahead, wrapped in an old blanket and shivering with the chill November air. He pulled to the shoulder well behind her, and carefully got out of the Jeep and kept his hands well within sight. "Danielle Moonstar?" he called out to her, just to be sure that she was the right girl.

Somewhere, a voice called her name, which was different from the other hallucinations she'd had of being back on the reservation with her husband and her life going back to what it used to be.

Turning around, she was surprised to see an older man with a car. Cocking her head to one side, she looked at him through her tangled hair, waiting to see if he was real or not.

Haroun walked towards her slowly, keeping his hands visible and his body-language as nonthreatening as he could make it. "You've been expected. Heading up to Xavier's, are you?" he asked her with a big smile. Inwardly, he winced - the girl was _wiped_. He'd seen fresher and more normal-looking women in war zones.

She shook her head mutely, staring at her feet. He seemed real. She still wasn't certain, but she figured she should still be polite to hallucinations. It wasn't their fault that they weren't real.

Haroun kept walking towards her - and removed his jacket as he walked. "You look like you're freezing. Here, take my jacket." he said pleasantly, holding the jacket out for her to take if she was so inclined to. "You've come a long way - you must be tired."

A hand snaked out of the blanket taking the jacket, "Thank you," she replied quietly, her gaze shifting from her own feet to his. Figments did not offer jackets, so he must be real.

"Come on. The Jeep is warm, and Professor Xavier sent me to come meet you. Jeep's nice and warm, and there's a Thermos of coffee in there if you're interested." he said, leaving everything up to her.

No pressure, let her make all the moves.

Nodding, she headed towards him. Warmth. She'd never ridden in a car this new. Once more she reached out, stroking the side of the car marvelling at the lack of dents or scratches. He must be rich, she decided.

She didn't say much. In a way, he kinda liked that. "Go on, get in. I don't bite. My name is Haroun al-Rashid. I'm an instructor up at Xavier's. Thermos will be on your seat - help yourself." he said as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Dani Moonstar," she replied stowing her backpack on the floor of the car, although he obviously knew her name. She picked up the thermos, but didn't open it. "Good to meet you."

Haroun smiled at her. "And you as well. Here, let me turn the heater all the way up for you." he said, cranking the Jeep's AC control all the way towards the hot end, and then the fan all the way up as well. "How long have you been out there?" he asked her curiously, then double-checked to get a feel for traffic before starting the Jeep and pulling back out onto the highway.

Dani tried to count, but wasn't succeeding. "A day on foot, then two in the truck, and a day on foot again?" she ventured, but that didn't seem right. "No, two more on foot. So a week?"

Haroun whistled. "Long time to be out on your own like that. I'm impressed that you made it this far." he told her, and then out of deference to his passenger he tried to tame his usual reckless driving style even further. "Where did you start your trip from?"

"The rez," she fished a brush out of her bag and tried to comb her waist-length hair. The knots were too difficult to get out in the car, shrugging, she tied it back with a rubber band, "It's not so far when you have no where to go."

"The rez? I'm not familiar with that term..." he admitted as he danced the Jeep into and out of traffic. "I'm from Morocco myself." he said with a grin. "Been in the States for a few months now - and I went to school here."

"The reservation," she explained, trying to look at him surreptitiously, she'd never met anyone from another country. Unsurprising since she was one of the only people she knew who'd even left Oklahoma, "Where Indians live, ain't it?"

"I thought Indians lived in India." he said with a quirked smile. "Oh, wait! Native Americans! Gotcha - you'll have to forgive me for being a little slow. Didn't put it together until just now." he said. "I feel silly." he admitted.

She giggled bordering on hysteria, "Some people think we have feathers in our hair and take scalps still."

Haroun brutally suppressed an urge to do the Chop. He did, however, do a quick glance over at Dani's mess of hair. "No feathers that I can see." he said. "And if you're hiding a scalp anywhere besides your own, I don't want to know about it." he said with a laugh.

"Nothing," she replied, her grin fading. Her life was in her backpack. She touched it with her sneaker, reassuring herself it was still there before touching her stomach. Yes, everything was still real.

"Hey, cheer up. You're on your way to a better place now." he said with good cheer. "A chance to start over, to discover who you can be. It's our job to give you those opportunities."

"At...Xavier's?" she stumbled over the word, trying to remember what he had said, "It's a place like any other, ain't it?"

"It's a lot more than that. It's a place where people like you - people like me too - can be themselves without interference from the outside world. Where you can get an education in as many areas of life as we can teach." Haroun said with real pride in his voice. "It gets a little crazy at times, but that's what happens when you've got a bunch of teenagers with gifts all living in close proximity."

"You mean mutants," Dani said, saying the word for the first time. She'd known she was a mutant for years, but her Grandfather had always said she was gifted and no one had ever dared to disagree with him until now.

"Yes, I mean mutants." he said carefully, taking his time to maneuver around some offensively slow drivers. "We have all kinds living at the school."

"Like me?" such a simple question, but not.

"As far as I've been told, you're a psion so yes, including people like you. We've got one young woman who possesses people, another who sees possible futures, and a few telepaths and even an empath." Haroun explaned. "Can you tell me more about your gift?" he asked.

"I make people scared," the words were almost a whisper as she stared out the window determinedly at the passing country side. "But only when I sleep. Can't sleep."

"We have a room, in the Mansion, to help people like you get control over their gifts. It's a regular room with special equipment built into all six walls. Equipment to block out psionic powers, to cancel them out. You'll be able to sleep there and not frighten anyone else." Empathy was a hell of a gift, Haroun thought in the privacy of his own mind. One hell of a gift.

"I could sleep?" Danielle repeated, trying not to sound hopeful. Her body needed sleep and she knew it, but if she hoped, she might not sleep. "I would like that, please, but I have no money."

Haroun waved that off. "Professor Xavier has a fund established so that needy applicants will have their expenses taken care of for the duration of their education at Xavier's. He can give you the gory details, but I don't think means will be an issue." he said with a smile. "So you can rest easy on that account."

"Let me out." Dani reached for her bag.

Haroun blinked. "Why?" he said, slowing the Jeep and making his way over to the shoulder. "It's not a gift, and it's not chairty." he said with a flash of insight. "It's a loan, repayable once you graduate."

"How?" she asked, suspiciously. "And what interest?"

"You can discuss that with Professor Xavier." he said blandly. "I'm sure that they'll be favorable to you." he said with a smile. "Still want me to pull over?"

Danielle shook her head, her hair falling out of the rubberband and hiding her face again. "I don't take charity."

"An odd stance to take, but it takes all kinds to make the world work." he said. "I'm a Muslim - giving to charity is a large part of my faith. Those who have provide for those who do not. Not so different from the way your people work, is it?" he asked her

Dani shook her head, "On the rez, everyone's on welfare, even those who got jobs. 'Assistance' they call it. White men not honoring their promises, is what it is, ain't it? White men taking our land, everything we got. Then give us a pitance and say they're helping! They ain't helping with more jobs or fair trials. I ain't been on welfare and I ain't ever gonna be." This was the longest Dani had spoken and with the most emotion. She sagged in her seat with the effort, rubbing her eyes.

Haroun shrugged. "I come from a different place. But yours are not the only people to know the boot-heel of the white man. Ours were French." he said supportively. "But now is probably not the best time to start talking about oppression of our ancestors. We could be here a while." he said with a grin. "And besides, we'll be at Xavier's in about fifteen minutes. Do you have any questions for me?"

"So soon?" Dani was surprised, the trip had been quick. "Um you should know I'm pregnant."

"Are congratualations in order, then?" he asked her carefully. For some reason, she wasn't dazzling him with joy at the pronouncement.

Dani shrugged, "Shel hates me. Kicked me out. What's that say about the baby? Or about me? Just life, ain't it?"

"I am guessing that that means no on the congratulations." Haroun said somewhat stiffly. "Unfortunate."

Dani shrugged again, "Life gives you choices and you can't go back and change them. Are there a lot of students?"

"Never met a time-traveller. Precognitives, yes, but no time-travellers. And there's a fair number of kids currently attending Xavier's. At a guess, I'd say that there's perhaps fifty or so." Haroun said. "All of whom have some sort of mutation."

Nodding, Dani pulled her hairbrush out again and tried to brush her hair. She wasn't usually concerned about her appearance, but she could hear her Grandmother telling her that an Indian's pride was their hair and if they can't take care of it, what could they take care of? "Any Indians?"

"Forge is a halfbreed, if memory serves." Haroun said. "And Miles might be, but he's green and doesn't have much of a nose and I don't think he's been typed fully yet." Haroun mused. "I don't know all of the students personally, but we take pains to maintain a wide range of diversity among the students and staff."

Dani snorted, "Halfbreed. Diveristy. Token is more like it," she finished brushing her hair. "I'll try it, but I leave if the deal's bad."

"There aren't that many Native Americans left in the US, and mutation rates are still pretty small. Give it time, Danielle. Give it time." he said soothingly. "And that's all anyone can really ask. Give it a chance - you'll find that the place will grow on you pretty quickly."

Shrugging, Dani looked out the window.