Mr. Summers was expecting questions, and thought that one in particular could have waited for later, he thought it best to address it presently:

"In time. Those are only necessary to protect your identify, and you won't be setting foot outside the Danger Room today"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:13, Sun 13 Dec 2020.

“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss, Cyclops” the pretty woman in the clubwear smiled at Frank
”How do you want us to call ya, hun?”

"Uh..." Scott the stoic was a bit intimidating, so Frank wasn't sure he wanted to undermine his authority by answering Rogue's question. But it was only a few seconds of indecision before the southern belle's charms overrode Frank's caution. "Well, in high school football, I was Frank the Tank... so I was thinking I'd just stick with Tank."

Zoey glances around to see if anyone else was about to speak before she does. It's not waiting to be called on, but it's something. "How is a code name going to protect our identity?" Zoey asks. "Facial recognition technology these days is very good; the U.K. police department uses ear lobes over fingerprints to identify persons of interest. I've heard most of the X-men don't wear full helmets or even masks."

Kate watched the conversation as though it were a tennis match, from one to the next as each spoke up.  She was a little jealous of the Professor who now was escaping what she felt were kind of silly questions.  Of course the government would know who they were pretty fast.  Though that earlobe thing was kind of interesting.

Besides, if someone like Barnell was participating how long would it be until everyone knew the school was behind everything? "So, is this gonna be like gym class or like marine training?" She finally slipped in when a chance occurred.

  Leaning against the desk to the right and behind Frank, Victor sipped on his scalding cup of coffee taking in the situation.  Of all the places he'd ever expected to end up this was certainly not on the list of what he ever expected.  The X-Men had a media representation that ranged from dangerous vigilantes to mutant terrorists but that was far from dissuasive for Victor...he had a number of uncles and aunts on watchlists for activism.  I'm in. Every one should have training to defend themselves and others.  The world is a dangerous place and it's not getting any friendlier.  That's for sure... Especially after half of Manhattan melted because one mutant lost control.  He'd lost control once and could empathize with her situation.   His 'episode' hadn't been as far reaching as that but he'd hurt and killed people in the process.

"Governments might have the technology to track us down, but you don't want to make it any easier for the Friends of Humanity.  Or for Mutant Radicals out there"
Soft spoken Jean was the one to answer Zoey this time

"I prefer Mutant Terrorists" Scot jaw tightened, and his fists clenched, only to relent after Jean placed her hand over his arm

"You got it all backwards, no?" the man leaning against the wall spoke with a heavy accent.  He was quiet till now, but found the discussion over costumes and call names too amusing:
"It's all about style"

"We don't have time for this" 'Scot' waved his hand, indicating that this, indeed, was going to be more like boot camp than gym "You got ten minutes; change clothes, and meet me back at the entrance to Xavier's office"

In reply to Gambit (msg # 34):

Kate giggled at that.  Gambit really wasn't at all like the other grownups she was familiar with.  Outside of the fact he didn't hate her, something oddly familiar here at the school, he was actually kind of funny and did a lot more talking to rather than down.  Mr. Summers she thought was a better example of the talk down type, even if they looked pretty similar in age.

It was as she was having that thought that Mr. Summers proved her right by his command.   
"So we're all going to go to the danger gym and become anti-terrorists?"  She asked with a shrug of her shoulders.  "Okay, I can do that."  Hopping to her stocking-ed feet she gave the others a wave.  "See you all there."  She planned to be the first, because she wasn't going to bother to change.  Nobody ever let you change cloths before chasing you out of a store after all.

Ana Sofía wastes no time once Mr. Summers dismisses them. She hurries over to the kitchen to get more coffee with lots of sugar and goat's milk. Then to her room to switch to running shoes, running tights, and a sports bra showing off her belly and some cleavage. She also grabs her water bottle (with water!) and a towel to bring along with her coffee. And then down to meet the others just barely squeaking in under 10 minutes.

"Oh right... them," Zoey replied, dejected. She'd managed to forget, if only for a moment, that the governments of the world weren't the only people trying to disown her. Disown all of them. It had been a nice moment, but now it was time to go back to work.

She was sure glad she hadn't rationed the day's energy yet, because this promised to be a very horrible day. She'd wanted to go to the Danger Room for a long time, but... not like this. Not with so many other people around. She was going to have to double up the peanut butter on her morning toast... front-load those calories...

Zoey, one of the last ones out, hesitated in the doorway. She half-turned back to the instructors. "You know my ability only works on living things, not holograms?" she asks. She doesn't bother asking if they've read her file and her long long list of sensory issues. Mr. Summers in particular seemed like he'd take the list as a challenge, as if her autism could be beaten out of her, but better minds than his had tried and failed.

"Anti-terrorist, pro-mutant activist... super-hero... call it whatever you want," Frank said, not sure if anyone was listening. "I'm still in."

He ran off to get changed into some workout clothes.

Kate unlike most of the others just headed straight over to the meeting spot.  Sure she did have less fashionable more sturdy cloths, but not a lot and she wanted to keep them clean in case she had to do a runner.  So instead she wandered around the hall outside the Professors office, curiously sticking her nose into things.  Poking at the art, wiggling her toes in the carpeting and generally trying to waste time till someone else showed up.

The ‘elevator’ to the lower levels, cleverly concealed as part of the wall in Xavier’s office, turned out to be nothing more than a narrow tube.  Barely four feet in diameter, it couldn’t carry more than two or three of them at a time, and even that would be extremely uncomfortable.  Unfortunately, it was uncomfortable, as their new drill instructor (now in blue and yellow spandex), insisted on them going down in batches to ‘save time’. Being squeezed like sardines in a can was hardly the worst they would have to endure as heroes, so they might as well get out of their comfort zone training to become ones.

It was a momentary inconvenience, however, since once they reached the lower levels they found themselves standing in a vast underground fortress. The corridors, illuminated by white fluorescent lighting, were wide enough to drive a tank through them, and the high-speed personnel transport rail cars, ready to ferry people from the elevator landing area to god knows where, was all the indication they would need to figure out that the installation stretched for miles in every direction.

Then there was the Danger Room itself.  Once Cyclops pressed his hand against the biometric scanner on the face of the wall the doors opened with a ‘whoosh’ to reveal a room so large it was impossible to grasp its true dimensions, exacerbated by the fact that it was so…empty.    But it sure was big.  Big enough to fit an entire football stadium within it, with room to spare.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:13, Tue 15 Dec 2020.

”- step inside.  Jean has prepared the simulation and we can start as soon as you’re ready”

Looking around, Frank whistled in appreciation of the scope of the engineering feat that was the Danger Room. The dome would have made Buckminster Fuller wet himself. A very large chunk of Westchester county should have collapsed making this place, and yet the structure stood.

"I'm ready when you are," he said, trying to tear his gaze away from the dome and focus on the people nearby.

Looking around in amazement, Ana Sofía follows the instructions and walks in. Hearing Frank's comment she asks, "Ready for what?" Her walk gets more hesitant as she moves in from the doorway and becomes truly dwarfed by the room. She stops not more than ten feet in, just staring about.

The ride in the elevator, crammed in with the other student's hadn't been particularly nice.  Luckily she was small, so they could fit more students in?  In any case that first impression certainly set expectations in the wrong direction.

As the vastness of the underground complex became clear her jaw just continued to drop.  This was stunning.  Kate's eyes darted here and there, taking in everything.  This place, it was just ridiculously huge.  How had it ever been built?

Then when they finally got to the danger room she just stopped.  "This is just silly big."  But she sounded impressed as she trailed in after the others peering into the far corners of the room.

Tiny elevators. Great. And why is Mr. Summers always in such a goddamn hurry?

Zoey's low-key cleithrophobia ends up being forgotten as the monumental scale of the UnderMansion becomes clearer. How... how did they build something like this? The excavation work alone would have raised some eyebrows from city planning if nothing else. Did they just teleport the rubble to the moon or something?

Just as she thinks she's starting to get a handle on the scale of this place, they step into what Zoey at first thought might have been some kind of storage area for space shuttles. She takes a few excited steps into the immense space, spinning around to look at its unadorned surfaces. It was enough to give her vertigo.

"Forget holodeck," Zoey says in muted wonder. "Holohanger. You could fit the entire Enterprise in here. Original series, definitely... maybe even Next Generation. How long is this room?!"

  Like a couple of the other students, Victor skipped a wardrobe change and stayed in his regular clothes.  He didn't know what to expect that a worn and comfortable jeans and a 'lived-in' t-shirt wouldn't be appropriate for...

  Xavier's office was a lavish and ostentatious status symbol.  More money went into the decor here than went into the academic programs at his old high school, probably.  The whole "Xavier's" experience just dripped of 'old money' and made Victor wonder how things would've turned out for Xavier if he hadn't been born into the lap of luxury from the start.
  Victor's reverie was broken by the wall sliding back and opening into a tiny tin-can elevator that Summers shoe-horned everyone into that could fit.  He wasn't bothered by the confined space...Victor grew up in a very crowded household and this was like the bathroom on a school day morning.

  The vast underground complex was quite the contrast to the sardine-can elevator.  This...was impossibly large.  This is a bit more than just a finished basement... he stated flatly, the last to exit the tiny elevator.  You could buy off a whole room full of Senators for what this must've cost...

Cyclops only had a vague sense of the size of the Danger Room, so he couldn’t really reply to Zoey’s question.   It was one of those questions best addressed to McCoy, whose head was filled with little factoids like that.

“Jean” he called out after pressing against an ‘X’ shaped button on the yellow belt that ran diagonally over his chest “We’re ready.  Initiate ‘Savage-Land simulation zero-four’”

And just like that, with a blink of an eye, all of them were teleported straight into Jumanji.

Mr. Summers did say something about ‘holo-projectors’, and how real the simulation would feel like.  As it turned out, it wasn’t hyperbole.

The temperature in the room increased dramatically within a few short seconds, turning sweltering hot despite the pouring rain breaking through the green canopy above them.  Wet rain.  Real rain.  Or at least it felt that way, because the drops of water rolled over their body very convincingly, soaking the clothes of anyone who would not bother running for cover underneath the broad leaves of the evergreens.    Dense thicket sprung out of nowhere, so tight that navigating through it without a machete looked like an exercise in futility.

“RIGHT!!!!”

Cyclops had to raise his voice to be heard over the sounds of drums beating at the distance, which drowned not only his voice, but also that of the rain, buzzing insects, chirping birds, and much larger animals.

“We received an S.O.S from Doctor Perez.  His expedition ran into some trouble and requires immediate evac.  Get five people back to their camp for a passing grade”