Helen Cecelia Back

Private to the Dancetroopers

Tue, 21 Sep 2004 16:47:15 GMT

Mr. Wagner is back. Yay! Much yayness! And now on my wall is the nice cross he carved me for me -- For me! He was thinking about me while he was on retreat! That's so nice! And we're going to do trapeze! And he's grown his hair out, which looks So Cool! And I really need to start using some punctuation other than exclamation marks!

Class should be nice. But Miss Frost is just a bit scary. I wish I hadn't missed the second half of U.S. history in the spring of sophomore year, but dance class took precedence, as well it should.

Sun, 19 Sep 2004 22:46:20 GMT

Dear Everyone,

Mom, I'm here and I'm safe. Let me know if anything changes with Cassie. Cassie, if Mom tells me something and you don't e-mail me immediately to clarify, I'm going to get all panicky and stuff, so don't think you can hold out on me.

800-845: Poetry with Professor Xavier
850-935: Math II with Mr. Summers
940-1025: Fitness with Mr. Wagner
1030-1115: US history (post 1865) with Ms. Frost
1120-1205: Lunch (not nearly long enough, of course.)
1210-1255: World Religions with Mr. Wagner
100-235: Drama with Ms. Braddock
240-325: Environmental Science with Ms. Munroe

And then, on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays, it's off to Ms. Hunter's studio.

It's good to be back.

Fri, 09 Jul 2004 17:40:25 GMT

Dear Everyone,

Well, I'm doing great in classes. Studying a lot. And dance lessons have been great. Exhausting really.

Got my check-up from Dr. McCoy. Everything's fine, and I like the good doctor himself. He's definitely the most professorly of the professors.

There's going to be a thing tonight. The classic high-school dance sort of thing.
I'm going to probably end up in the Buridan's Ass conundrum, standing there staring until I collapse because I was unable to choose between dancing and consumption of cookies.

Log

Tue, 29 Jun 2004 15:30:43 GMT

Helen and Hank
His Office
Check-up

Helen walked down the hall to Dr. McCoy's office. The marked point on her calendar had come around, and it was best to get this over with. She knocked.

Hank rose from his desk and opened the door to the face of an unfamiliar student. "Good afternoon." He pulled the door wide to allow her to pass.

Helen smiled. She'd heard Dr. McCoy was another of the blue-and-furry types. #Hello# said Sir Paul. She extended her hand. #Helen#Cecelia#Back# provided her new Wings CD and the usual Simon&Garfunkel and Gloria Gaynor snippets. She then produced The Note from the doctor back home, saying that she should have her throat checked by a physician to look for signs of infection or of the scar tissue's becoming an obstruction to swallowing or breathing in any way.

Helen's hand nearly vanished in Hank's grip. "Nice to meet you, Miss Back." His mind connected the name to the file as he read over her note, nodding. "If you'll just follow me..." He opened another door at the back of his office, leading into the large medilab area. He gestured toward one of the nearby stools as he walked further towards a lab cart. "I just need to gather a few items."

#Pleased to meet you# said Mick.Helen walked over and climbed onto the stool. She looked around for a moment before sighing silently and reaching to untie her scarf.

Hank returned a moment later, cart laden with supplies, the majority of which will be unnecessary. He adjusts his glasses and peers at Helen's throat. The wound is clean and appears to be nearly healed. The skin around the scarring appears normal. "Are you having any difficulties? Interference with your breathing, any other functions?"

Helen managed to restraun herself from covering the livid vertical slice with her hand. She smiled and shook her head and pulled out her notebook. "There haven't been any problems not fixable by a scarf."

Hank observed the tension in Helen's movements. He nodded a little at the note. "Would you mind if I palpated the region around your wound?" He'd already begun slipping on gloves--custom made, with three fingers, a thumb, and reinforced fingertips for extra protection. With the access to nanosurgical techniques and other advantages his labs offered, it wasn't often he needed them for hands-on work, but when he did, only the best would suffice.

Helen shook her head with a small smile, looking curiously at the glove setup.

Careful to keep his fingers far to the side, Hank rested the tips of his thumbs on the sides of Helen's wound and slowly padded down the length of it. There was no unusual discoloration, no discharge, nothing to indicate anything less than normal healing. Pleased, Hank nodded and withdrew his hands. "Do you still require bandaging, Miss Back?"

Helen shook her head. "The healing has apparently been almost as miraculous as the not-getting-killed-in-the-first-place," she wrote.." It just needed confirming, really."

Hank nodded again. "Indeed, your wound is healing remarkably. I have no doubt it was due to efficient and skilled care--give your primary physician my compliments the next time you see him." He smiled warmly as he removed his gloves.

Helen smiled and nodded. Then, she looked a little bit odd, in that I-want-to ask-a-qustion-that-i-probably-shouldn't way.

Hank disposed of his gloves, then turned back to face Helen. Something seemed to be troubling her. "Is there something else, Miss Back?"

Helen bit her lip. #Grace# sang Robbie Wiliams.
She then began to scribble. "This is an absolutely ridiculous question. She seems like a traiteur, and I never head of a traiteur who could fix a major injury, but I just feel like I shouldn't let it go by without asking: How good IS she?"

Hank tilted his head and sighed. "To be honest, I really can't answer that. I haven't yet had a chance to work with Miss Waverly specifically on discovering the extent of her powers, though we have discussed some measures towards experimentation. However, until such experiments have been conducted, I believe it is in everyone's best interest that she perform as little independant healing as possible. No matter how beneficial it may seem, every mutation is dangerous unless and until it is controlled."

Helen nodded. Right. Of course. Somehow, it had just needed asking.

Hank smiled again. "Is there anything further that needs tending? Questions, at all? I'd be happy to be of assistance as long as you're here."

Helen smiled. She couldn't think of any good lyrics at the moment, so she returned to notes. "Just another silly question: Is there some evolutionary-related reason why mutants with fur often have blue fur, when animals with fur almost never do? I know next to nothing about genetics, but I keep wondering about that."

Hank couldn't help but laugh a little. "No question is a silly one. For myself, when I originally became furry, I was grey--the blue came later, though to this day I am still not certain precisely why. I don't know that there's a distinct evolutionary advantage or disadvantage to being blue. In Herr Wagner's case, for example, there may be an advantage, as the darkness of his fur allows him to blend in with shadows, making him virtually invisible. For myself, it often presents a disadvantage, as I present a large enough target on my own, and being blue merely heightens my visibility. I believe that--the overall distinctiveness of a bright blue shade in natural surroundings--is why wild animals never have such a brilliant hue to their fur. As far as I've been able to ascertain, on my part, it's just another enjoyable side effect of my own mutations."

Helen smiled. "That makes a lot of sense about P.Wagner. All I could think was birds, that maybe the x-gene was producing people in various lovely shades of blue so as to get the attention of those would would help make more furry mutants." After handing over the note, Helen tied her scarf back on and hopped off the stool. #Thank You# sang Alanis as she prepared to go.

Hank laughed warmly in response to Helen's note. "I suppose that too is a possibility, though once again, I'm uncertain if it's truly an advantage or disadvantage in my own case." He smiled as she left, following her back into his office. "Any time there's anything I can be of assistance for, Miss Back, don't hesistate to pay another visit."

Mon, 21 Jun 2004 16:51:49 GMT

Dear Everyone,

First off: Mother, I got your package. Thank you SO much. Especially for the Wings CD. I have another song to introduce myself with now.

Dance class is fabulous; Miss Hunter is really nice. Between it and the workouts, I've been feeling kind of tired lately, and have been sleeping a lot.

Professor Summers was sick, so for physics class I ended up writing a paper on persecution. So I wrote about the Helots of ancient Sparta, American slavery and Jim Crow laws, and modern day attempts at "mutant control acts" and pointlessly violent 'protestors' who just want to "protect themselves." The common theme was that the "superior" group was always trying to maintain control of the oppressed group, because they felt threatened. But oppression has improved a bit over time. At least mutants aren't legally obligated to give up nearly all our food year after year, and legally we can have any bus seat we want. It was a pretty good paper, but it took a while to think it all out and type it all up.

Thu, 10 Jun 2004 17:33:42 GMT

Dear Everyone,

Remy prepared absolutely perfect jambalaya Tuesday night. Much wonderfulness. I have by this point met nearly everyone. One of many enjoyable recent meetings is Bobby, who is the coolest CPA I have ever met. Hear that, Mom? There is both a doctor and an accountant on campus. I have a safeguard regarding both death AND taxes!

And in addition to the doctor -- whom, yes ma'am, I will see about that check-up eventually -- Xavier's seems to have its very own traiteur. Kind of, anyway. Her name is Grace, and what she did to my wrist was as effective as the homeopathic pills. Now, at this point, Lucas is going to say "yeah, both are the placebo effect," but my wrist hurt less, so what do I care? Very nifty gift.

In the Gym.

Thu, 10 Jun 2004 14:08:42 GMT

Helen was working on upper-body stuff again. Handweights got a bit boring after a while. She watched the soundwaves from the noise generator in her purse bends as they emerged, forming them into the White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army." Had she thought about the fact that her arms had ceased their repetitions, she would have argued that certainly rocking out to that amazing bassless bassline while holding a weight in each hand would work SOME kind of arm muscles.

Private Message to the Troupe.

Wed, 09 Jun 2004 22:36:36 GMT

All right, everybody, here's the rundown.

The Prospects:

Nick: As said before, charming and a hottie. Common proximity of total oaf still an obstacle. Talented photographer.
Mal: Wonderful guy. Great taste in music. Talented at song-writing as well. As said before, pale-and-mussy-haired excellence.
Merric: Cool guy. Well-read. Wants to go to New Orleans sometime. Good artist. Good-looking. Somehow, looks like he should be named "Chris." It certainly would be easier to say. Gave me help there: his handle is 'Wildfire.' Nifty. Friend of Theo as well.

One of the adjunct X-People, and thus, not actually a prospect, is Bobby, who I haven't gotten to really talk to, but who is cute and funny.
There's another first-year boy I haven't met yet.

Write-offs:
Mort: Neither attractive, nor mannerly, nor too bright.
Theo: Not too bad looking, but a hypocritical oaf.

And, for the sake of completeness
The "Competition" (assuming the girls fancy boys):

Christine: Very nice girl. She's blind, so our conversations are a bit odd. She's Absolutely Gorgeous, too, so I hope she doesn't have ~~her eye on~~ an interest in anyone I choose to pursue things with.
Samantha: Also Absolutely Gorgeous and very nice. And in great shape. Agrees Nick is hottie.
Sharon: Quite cool. She looks a great deal like the previously referenced Professor Wagner, only she's got wings. Smart and funny. Very pretty, for those not squeamish about blue fur.
Grace: Seems to be a lovely girl. Pretty. High tolerance of problematic things.
Lotte: Cool. Beautiful. Concentration issues because of powers. Don't think she'll have that much time for the boys.
Loahn:Pretty, and nice enough. It was odd, though. She somehow has a certain student-council-officer aspect to her demeanor. She went around giving everyone brownies (which I appreciated, mind you) like there was a class election on Friday. Maybe I was misreading, but I somehow got the impression she'd be a bit too neurotic to be much "competition."
Becca: Finally met her. Seems quite cool. Thinks she'll be bored by self-defense, so probably the badass type. Managed to get in a fight with Theo previously.
Jane: A nice lady. Yes, lady. She's a grad student.
Ian: A nice and amusing fellow. Don't know how much "competition" he will be, as not all sexualities are known.
Tabby: Not sure if she's a student or an adjunct. Has been hanging around with first years, though. Fun. Reminds me of of certain people after the Pixie Stix incident. If she goes after any first-year boys, they will probably be too confused.

Conversation

Mon, 07 Jun 2004 23:05:31 GMT

Helen finished a long block of studying and headed down the hall, intending to raid the pantry. It was a good day. She'd enjoyed the moviewatching the other night, although she'd dozed off in the middle of it. The general hanging out had been nice. It was good to finally be getting out of the just-meeting-people stage.

Fri, 04 Jun 2004 18:20:33 GMT

Dear Everyone,

School continues fine. I have met all but one of my fellow first-years and many amongst the faculty and adjunct people, and nearly everyone I have met is quite nice. Yes, Mom, it turns out states like Ohio and Massachussetts can produce very nice girls and very nice boys, some of whom can even bake.
Regardless of this, however, they have doubtless been unable to reach the heights of culinary enjoyment, the kind only available eating in a culture which can turn a netful of invertebrates into a family feast.
And so, I would like to take the opportunity to make an announcement to my fellow Xavier's students:

~You are cordially invited to a bona fide Cajun dinner, prepared by the excellent Monsieur Remy, on Tuesday evening in the dining hall. Come and enjoy.~

:::Knocking on Kitty's Door::

Thu, 03 Jun 2004 13:57:05 GMT

Well, now that schedules were settling, it would soon be time to actually go to dance lessons. Helen was excited. She wanted to talk to that Kitty Pryde girl about going, arranging things with professors, etc. Besides, she'd seemed cool, and Helen wanted to meet her properly.

She knocked.

Private Message to Christine.

Thu, 03 Jun 2004 12:27:44 GMT

Sorry for my abrupt departure yesterday. It seemed like the best course of action. I have a fairly low tolerance for hypocrisy. It was really great meeting you, and Cade seems to be a very nice dog.

Reading the Paper

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 15:49:35 GMT

Helen looked over the front page of the newspaper she'd just aquired. That was awful about the airplane crash. Then her eye caught the smaller article. She read with disgust. And the imported Yankees back home would whine about how much more 'progressive' the north was. #Narrow-minded#Foools!# shouted Freddie Mercury harshly. People could be such idiots. And that name was blasphemous, too.

Hemph. She shouldn't let this be a damper on a good mood.

Another Private Message to the Troupe

Tue, 01 Jun 2004 19:59:38 GMT

And the followup comes sooner rather than later.

That Nick guy? Met him at lunch. Total hottie. And judging by some of the things he said, some definite possibilities.

Simultaneously met a guy named Ian, who is not a prospect but part of the 'competition.' Cool guy, though. He joked about calling dibs, which is silly. You cast at the end of the auditions, not the beginning.

So I've men to drool over and boys to pursue, in the midst of pursuing some amazing performance opportunities. Don't y'all wish y'all were freaks of nature, too?

Private Message to the New Orleans Dance Troupe

Mon, 31 May 2004 00:05:08 GMT

Greetings, Ladies and suitably-inclined Gentleman.

The main point of this letter is to dish regarding those who combine oh-so-well the X gene and the Y chromosome. But first, an announcement.

Professor Wagner's agreed to eventually teach me the trapeze. The TRAPEZE! Yes, I feel your envy.
Please do not tell my parents. You know how they get about 'dangerous stuff,' even though this won't actually be dangerous.

Romantic prospects are uncertain. The only boy officially struck off the list is one who posted to the online journals. He's a mutie-hating mutant, I don't think so. Another one I've only seen online, named Nick, seems quite nice. He and I hope to meet at lunch sometime. As to the male student I did meet at lunch, he's a cutey. Got the pale-and-scraggly look going rather well. Other than that, none of my fellow students have caught my eye.

But we now arrive at the next portion of our letter, the Too-Bad-There's-Probably-Rules-Against-It! section. this section has two entries:

Professor Kurt Wagner. He's going to be my mentor/advisor person, and that's absolutely fabulous. He's got blue fur, glowing eyes, a total of 12 digits, and a tail, but let me assure you that as a physical specimen, he'd have any of you lads beat. The way he moves...! And he's just so incredibly nice! Very charming, with a good sense of humor. Don't try to tell me that German accents can't be cute. I have a feeling I may spend a great deal of time in adoration of him.

Remy: The fellow New Orleans expatriate. The only person who could possibly out-charm Mr. Wagner. The accent was so good to hear. He talks like my Uncle Octave, if my Uncle Octave was much younger, much much smoother, and much, much, much sexier!
He's an X-Man, which makes him practically a teacher. But he insisted on first-name basis, so I'm not sure what the situation/rules/etc. Pretty sure not an option. But that doesn't spoil the view, or the conversation. And a girl can dream. ::swoon::

So there you go. Further updates as things progress.

Sun, 30 May 2004 23:28:30 GMT

Dear Mom, Dad, Cassie, the Boys, the Troupe, and anyone from Xavier's who cares to read this:

School is great! Not only shall I be doing ballet at a high-rep dance studio, but Professor Wagner is going to tutor me in gymnastics! Very cool!
I'm also looking forward to self-defense classes. Can't have too much of those. There's an option for martial arts lessons, too, but there are only so many hours in a day, so I'll leave formal training for the good stuff and stick to RAD-style dirty fighting and whatever I learn in basic classes here for self-defense knowledge.
Oh, and actual academic stuff should be just fine, too.

Met with Professor Summers, who is having my room soundproofed. I so would not have thought about that until I'd woken the whole hall. I bet that's the one respect in which y'all don't miss me.

Appreciated your call, Mom. To elaborate what I couldn't make clear musically, I will definitely try to make it to Mass once a month if I can locate an accessible church.

Met some very nice fellow students, Malachy, Samantha, and Grace, at lunch. Planning to meet more. Also met a fellow New Orleans expatriate. Greatly enjoyed the experience. He also offered to prepare some real food some time. I would really enjoy that experience!

::Knocks on Prof. Summers's door::

Sat, 29 May 2004 21:10:34 GMT

Helen could barely contain herself from skipping down the hall. But it did not seem appropos in the circumstances. This was business. She already had her notebook ready.

She knocked.

Sat, 29 May 2004 12:39:13 GMT

Dear Mom, Dad, Cassie, the Boys, the Troupe, and any of my new schoolmates reading this.

Look at my new web page journal thingie. Isn't it nifty? I think so. Mom, I've e-mailed Cassie my phone number. Call. It'll be nice to hear your voice. Alternatively, you can get Cassie to show you how e-mail works.
My new room is nice. Prof. Xavier still has the same all-knowing vibe he's been giving since we've been in contact with the school. In general, there hasn't been much conformity to Yankee stereotypes, so that's nice. From what I've been seeing of their journal-thingies, some of the people seem really cool. I have tried the food, and I'd like to thank you, Mom, for reminding me to pack some Tony's. I'm going to need it.

I have contacted Ms. Hunter but before I start at the studio, I have to meet with a faculty member about it. Scheduling and stuff.

NOTE TO PEOPLE AT XAVIER'S: I don't know how much Prof. Xavier has told the faculty, but for the students and, apparently, the x-tra people around here that the Prof.Xavier mentioned, here is your heads-up: Don't be shocked if Freddie Mercury, Jack White, or any other musician starts singing when I open my mouth. Or even if I don't open my mouth, because sometimes I forget to. Anyway, the music is my talking.

"say something, anything"

Fri, 28 May 2004 13:36:54 GMT

Test....1....2....3?