Welcome to Gaia! ::

Dante stood in the window of his room. Behind him was a bed he would never know the comfort of, one of two in this shared room. There was a drawer filled with clothes he would never feel or wear, a bathroom with a shower whose water he would never know the delight of, and a toilet he would never again have to use. Downstairs... upstairs... all around him was a magnificent world whose pleasures would slowly fade from his memory until they were nothing but living legends that people spoke of. Such was his curse. To be made of molten rock, to have an obsidian body that knew no pain or feeling. The ground and walls was the only thing that Dante knew intimately. A strong, hard surface that he could plainly feel stop his own body. It was almost the only thing he could know now, asides from emotion, but even that was a distant memory. Too much had happened, too fast. It drained his mentality and left him as rugged as his own body.

Turning from the window overlooking the Xavier courtyard Dante made his way into the hallway and looked from left to right. It was currently midday and most of the younger generations were in classes being taught something important to their life. He had already finished school and so the days left him largely alone, but that was no real issue. The people here were filled with smiling and hopes for the future. They felt like they were given a purpose and they felt rejuvenated to be around people like them, who knew their sufferance and could overcome them together. It must have been nice to be ignorant, but as Dante walked the hallways he recalled the truth, as he did everyday when he took his afternoon walks. The world outside the gates of the Xavier Institute was a cruel one, and it wasn't as nice to their kind no matter the age or state. We are a mutation of the Human Gene, and we will always be hated for that difference.

The other tenants of the Institute that didn't have class at this time were walking the halls as well, and as Dante made his way down the main stairs he passed a couple talking together. Dante's body was terrifying to most of the people here, especially the children. Pure, shining black that was broken by straight lines of orange magma that glowed faintly, although his feet and hands remained black while he was indoors. It was one of the first things he learned to control with his body, so he did not burn everything they touched. His eyes were bright orange with no pupil or iris, just magma that glowed emotionlessly at the people he gazed at. He no longer met the gaze of any person in the Institute, for his eyes unnerved them, made them feel like he was burning into their body and soul.

Opening the front door Dante walked outside and looked up at the blue sky. It was a beautiful day... a day filled with a breeze he would no longer feel.

Dante stood still outside of the doorway, staring up at the sun for a few minutes. It did not burn his eyes, he had no retinas, and the sun made him feel comfortable. Many people complained about the heat of the sun or the problems they have with the glare, but he knew none of it. The sun was like him, as was the Earth and the other planets in the solar system. Burning hot magma constantly churning, chaotic and uncontrolled. He was envious of the sun. All it had to do was sit there and keep on being and the people loved it. The people loved the Earth because of all it housed and how it kept society alive. What these people remained ignorant of was the fact that he was the closest kin the Earth had. Molten magma with a hard shell protecting its interior. It was because of that reason that Dante always walked the campus grounds during the height of the day. It was when the sun aligned with the Earth and let the people know, I'm here, and I'm staying.

Dante began down the main pathway of the campus, his hands swaying at his sides as he continued to look from left to right. Teenager's played on the outside Basketball court, trying to be as human as possible, not using their powers. It was something that he could understand, but never partake in. Whenever he first arrived at the school people had given him a chance, they had let him play in their games, tried to get close to him, but it did not work. His body was hot and any game that involved contact pushed people away. Sometimes in the thrill of a game he would lose concentration and magma and heat would flow into his hands and feet, melting the ball and the course. When people tried to talk to him they found his blunt and depressed attitude a major turn-off, and slowly but surely people began to stop trying. A brave soul would try occasionally, but none of them lasted long.

As Dante came to the edge of the campus he put a hand against the fence lining the courtyard. It almost felt like being locked in a cage, but here in this prison there was a far less cruel world. Turning off of the pathway he began to walk through the grass, his orange eyes gazing out across all of the greenery and trees. The first time he felt shunned and came into the woods of the Institute he did not have full control over his hands and feet. He remembered standing before a large tree, he didn't know what kind, and before he knew it a fire had started at his feet. He felt no pain so he did not notice the flames licking up his shins, spreading to the roots of the tree and along the grass, sped up by a gust of wind he could not feel. He had no nose so he did not smell the smoke and he did not notice until his entire body was wrapped in an envelope of smoke. It took an hour or two before the fire was put under control, and many confronted him saying he should control his power, control the fire. He gave the same response. I cannot control the flames, I am not a pyro-technician. They all scoffed and looked at him disdain.

That was almost a full year ago, and yet the large tree stood defiant against the flames and it continued to prosper. It was here that Dante came to every day, and it was here he would stay for hours on end, watching the people around the campus from the shadows, enjoying being one with his closest kin; the Earth and Sun. As he stopped under the shade of the boughs he ran his finger along the base. The marks were still there. . . charred, black wood. A small tinge of guilt came to him with he saw it, but it quickly faded. He began to concentrate and the lines along the sides of his legs and around his kneecaps began to fade as the magma within him cooled and hardened. This always took time, but it was worth it. Soon only his arms, chest and head glowed between the cracks and he took a seat at the base of the tree, looking out across the courtyard. He could see a few people look his direction, but all they saw was the orange glow of his eyes and the fainter glow of his body 'armor'. They feared it, he heard them whisper in the halls. It made him look evil, like a presence hiding in the dark ready to destroy all of them. Let them fear him . . . let them be like the humans they so try to imitate. Humans... mutants... it didn't matter what you were, they were all alike, and only the mutants like him could see it, the shunned and forsaken.

Soon arriving in the library, Winnie scanned the room for any seats close to the large bay windows. Spotting one, she smiled; and began walking across the room, book in hand. One second she was fine, the next, she was flat on her face. Gathering her thoughts, and sitting up, our heroine looked behind her to see a couple boys snickering. She opened her mouth to say something, but just stayed silent.

Avoiding any more contact, Winnie stood back up, grabbed her book off the floor and finished walking to the window seat. Seeing it's soft burgundy cushions, Winnie felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards. Swiftly plopping into the seat and propping her feet up, a sigh escaped her lips. Flipping through the worn, yellowing pages of her book; and residing on the page with a folded down corner. Winnie hated dog ear-ing pages, but no bookmark would stay inbetween the loose pages.

Her eyes wandered around the room, then stopping as she looked out the window. Seeing Dante once again beside a large tree. Just as she came to library almost everyday, he was always by that same tree. She remembered the night he had arrived at the Institute, how the flames licked among the grasses; and how he had not even noticed the flames enveloping him as well. She remembered gazing out of her room's window to see the colors of the flames dance, and the tall dark figure lingering among the mere shadows forming around the light. A sigh was once again heard from her, and now; Winnie turned to her book. Letting it whisk her away in it's pages. The words flowing across the page wrapping around her in their imaginative embrace.