Not all of the students at Xavier’s school looked forward to the field trip to New-York.   A few genuinely dreaded the prospect.  Walking around in the company of ‘normal’ humans again, to have them stare at you like you were a circus-freak, overhearing snide remarks behind your back while you were still very much within earshot… why would anyone ever want to subject himself to such humiliation?

‘Thanks, but no thanks’ was a not uncommon sentiment.

Professor Xavier didn’t force anyone to go (though he did encourage it), and quite a few students elected to remain at the mansion rather than accompanying Professor McCoy to a day at the American Museum of Natural History.  Those who did come along were the ones who felt comfortable enough in their own skins – either because they could pass for humans, or because they have come to accept, if not love, themselves the way they were.

If others could be as accepting!

The train ride was more or less OK; the group of mutants was big enough to take up an entire passenger car, and few people felt comfortable enough to ride with them even if it wasn’t the case.   Things started to feel awkward once they reached the station and made their way to the Museum.  Pedestrians parted for the group like the red-sea, avoiding the mutants like they were a bunch of lepers.

But the worst was still to come.  Professor Hank McCoy was one of the brightest men alive. Six PHDs he had. And only six, because he no longer cared about receiving an official certification for the many other fields in which he was a world-class expert.   He was also a gentle man, caring, and humble, who dedicated his entire life to Xavier’s dream of peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants.  In fact, he risked his life many-a-times in pursuit of that dream.

And none of it mattered to the group of snickering teens passing him by at one of the exhibits. Those saw fit to suggest that it is HE who should be stuffed and put on display behind the glass wall.

The young students were in state of shock.  Hank was a revered figure at the academy.  To see him treated like a grub-worm was a somber reminder that even the best of them were judged solely based on their appearance.  If Hank hadn’t brushed the insult aside and went on talking about the wooly-mammoth as if nothing happened, some of the more hot-headed mutants would have done something very unpleasant to the teenagers giggling at them from afar like a pack of hyenas.

Hank wasn’t the only one made fun of that day.  Barnell (a boy who looked like a cross between a chicken and a man, complete with a beak for a mouth) received the brunt of the ridicule.  William, with the elongated neck of his, received his own share of wide-eyed looks.  But it was Herman’s translucent skin that had small children crying at the sight of him.  As difficult as it was not to answer back, all of the students followed the example set by their Professor, and by the end of the tour the resentment they’ve felt for being so mistreated was mitigated by the growing sense of camaraderie.

Having grown used to the abuse, and drawing strength from each other, the young mutants were in relatively high spirits as they reached the last stop before they start the journey back home: Time’s Square.  Most of the students have never been to New-York before, and walking down the 7th avenue with the super-high skyscrapers of steel and glass surrounding them from all sides, the rush of people (who in a typical New-Yorker fashion, briskly walked past them without giving the small group of mutants any notice) was an exciting experience.   So after buying the hot-dogs from the food-cart at the street corner (those were surprisingly quite good, as far as street-food went), and with their destination not more than a couple of hundred feet away,  it looked like the day was going to end in a high-note after all.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:07, Sat 14 Nov 2020.

This was a big day for Zoey.

Not because of visiting New York. Hell no. The last thing she wanted was to be octoteen picofeet from a kajillion other human beings, especially in (reputably) the rudest city on the east coast.

No, this was a big day because it was the first time Zoey was leaving the relative isolation of the Institute since... well, her arrival. This was a test of sorts, to see if she could keep her cool and not accidentally murderize half the city with her mutation. She knows she's nervous about this prospect because she's made up four new words in the span of about a minute (and, incidentally, while an octoteen is a lot, picofeet are infinitesimally small; it's like picking up a lethal dose of neutrino radiation from a supernova in that it mixes scales in an incongruous way; a kajillion, on the other hand, is an irrational number whose exact value varies depending on the observer and what the fuck is she going on about???).

Then again, maybe murderizing all these cockmonglers (five words!) wouldn't be such a bad thing...

Next time, perhaps. This trip was about maintaining control of her mutation, which meant making a conscious decision not to go picking any unnecessary fights. No matter how justly deserved they might be. Just focus on your heartbeat. Two beats, and two beats, and two... whoa, watch that adrenaline girl! Better shut the adrenal medulla down for now... that's better already, heheh...

Zoey stayed close to her fellow mutants throughout this expedition, mostly as a matter of survival. Some of them seemed to be... bonding?... over their shared trial. One of those little quirks of humanity Zoey never understood. She smiles awkwardly and says whatever empty platitudes they want to hear in order to keep them talking to each other and not her.

She'd take a bullet for any of these people, even wacky visible innards man, but ordinary conversation was a whole other pain regime entirely...

  It was a tough call for Victor whether to go on the day trip to New York.  On the one hand he thought it was just asking for trouble to drag a bunch of kids out into a world that viewed them as targets.  On the other hand, it was New York and that was irresistible for someone who's grown up in a county there the tallest building was three stories.  He'd convinced himself to go because some of the other kids might need someone to keep an eye on them...though he didn't have to wrestle too hard with his decision.

  He'd ridden a train before but this ride was different.  Everything was so close together that all the towns just bled one into another as the commuter train sped towards the Big Apple and it baffled him how people separated them in their mind.  The dirt was black here instead of red, thin and rocky instead of dry and dusty.  People were the same though, edgy and wary of anything different.  At least that made it easier to manage a train car to themselves as the other passengers gladly gave the group a wide berth as they filed in.  It occurred to Victor that Dr. McCoy chose to be their chaperone as much for his unusual appearance as his encyclopedic knowledge.  The blue furred beast would detract from the appearance of  more obvious mutant kids.  Victor could respect that.  McCoy had the self confidence to be unashamed of his appearance; Barnell, William and Herman needed to see that confidence modeled to them.  They were the stand-outs amongst the group of kids, the easy targets, so Victor hung back with them keeping an eye out for them.

  New York was the epicenter of things, or so the news and media made it seem...  The city didn't seem real even when Victor was in the middle of it.  It was wholly unlike anything he'd experienced before.  More people lived here in this once city than in his whole state!  He'd been to Tulsa and Oklahoma City but they couldn't hold a candle to even the suburbs of NYC.
  Central Park West and the American Museum of Natural History was an unreal experience as Dr. McCoy lead them on a curated tour of the museum's highlights.  There was way more to see than could be experienced in just one day though. He wanted to listen more closely to Dr. Mccoy's lectures but split his attention between the lectures and watching the group's back.  He caught a few of the corrections to the exhibits McCoy noted off-handedly as they passed but spent a lot of his time 'mean-mugging' anyone staring too long at the group.
  Times Square was just as surreal with the crush of people everywhere.  More than he'd ever seen in one place before and all going about their own agendas.  He'd scarfed down two hotdogs, even if he was sceptical of the topping choices available, as the group milled around the square.

Ana Sofía volunteers as a chaperone for the trip to NYC. She doesn't generally go to the busier parts of Manhattan, having stuck mostly to the Columbia University area pre-Covid. But with Professor Xavier on-hand there would be more leeway with the large crowds.

The Harlem line ride was nice. Usually she had to ride it with many strangers. Right now she really appreciates how Metro North blocks off entire cars for schools when enough students are traveling. She sits with the littler students and points out some of the things visible outside the windows of the commuter rail. When they get to the subway, she keeps track of a bunch of the youngest to make sure they each get from one spot to the next with the school crowd, trying to protect the more sensitive from the nastiness of some of the onlookers.

She wasn't used to this many attacks though, with the combination of the verbal ones and the non-verbalized ones invading her head. She had experienced it some of the volume as a student on these trips. Right now, outside of keeping an eye on the youngest students, she just tries to keep the plethora of voices out.

It was a game. Several human kids were playing at seeing who would get the closest to the mutants, pushing each other and laughing about it, to the intense discomfort of the mutant kids.

"Don't react," Frank told them. Herman in particular seemed to want to confront the humans on their bigotry. Frank thought of several things that he could say about tolerance, or about being the bigger man, but what he finally said was, "No matter what you do to them, it'll be more trouble for you."

Then one of the human kids got bold enough to edge up behind Herman and slap him on the back. Herman's translucent flesh jiggled like a bowl of Jello, eliciting a burst of laughter from the human kids.

Frank sighed. The human kids were apparently on their own field trip, so he went and spoke to one of their chaperones. After a minute, he returned, and the human kids were suddenly getting disciplined.

"What did you say?" asked one of the kids.

"Don't you worry about what I said," Frank replied. He'd intimidated the human chaperone through the use of his size, and wasn't especially proud of it. "Just enjoy the museum."

Hayden had been uncertain about the trip, until she found out that Professor McCoy would be leading it. After that, she was immediately on board. Coming with her messenger bag at her hip, stocked with notebooks and pens, laptop ready just in case. On the train, she blends seamlessly. Someone used to public transit, grabbing hold of one of the handlebars. Spacing out, earbuds in place, letting herself shake along with the train.

The museum stops are the real highlight for her, obviously. Always at the front of the crowd of students, notebook braced against a forearm as she takes notes. Each page neatly organized- she even seems to know how to do tabbed indentations freehand. All of them so close to the same size it would take a ruler to tell the difference. She raises her hand for questions, the answers getting taken down verbatim in whatever color gel the subject required.

The trip through the city, the attention of the people- tourists!- obviously got her annoyed. Slowly simmering behind her eyes, in her frown. Not enough to do anything, yet, but by the time Frank is back from his 'chat' it's clear she's on the edge of it. Instead, she slates herself, momentarily.

"The farming practices that produce beef are, like, destroying the planet. Those things are a major contributor to climate change," she says, to no one in particular.

"I'm eating them as fast as I can," Frank replied with a smile. Hayden seemed pissed, so maybe a little humor would defuse the situation. "But I'm just one man."

John-John, so named because he insisted he was two different people inhabiting the same body, stifled a chuckle

"Nha" he talked with his mouth full "I'm pretty sure there ain't no beef in any of these. "