September 1st, 2020.  X-Mansion

The rainstorm that started the day the X-Men returned from their mission has not abated the following day.  Though it was morning, it was nearly dark outside.  Tar-black clouds stretched over the horizon like a dark sheet, blocking the light of the sun, and the sounds of raindrops pelting over the earth were drowned by an occasional distant thunder.   But siting in the cozy antechamber, it was all too easy to forget about the dreary weather outside.

They were all called that morning by the Professor; the Veteran X-Men, the probationary members, and even the gatecrashers.  Not everybody could make it, however, which would be one of the topics on the agenda.

Sitting across their art teacher, Piotr, was Professor Hank McCoy . The burly men, who could barely fit in the armchairs they were sitting in, were hunched over the chess board lying on the table between them.

By the fireplace was Gambit, in his trademark trench coat, busy moving the ambers around with a poker, and not paying much heed to any of his teammates.

The cushioned sofa opposite the door was taken by Scot, and his lingerie-model/superheroine girlfriend, Jean Grey.  You’d think the stoic man would have shown some emotions sitting next to her, but his face was as cold as the weather outside.  Completing the cast were the immaculately dressed Professor Xavier, and Storm, who were standing, or sitting (as the case may be), by the window, looking out as they carried a conversation between themselves in hushed voices.

“Checkmate in four” McCoy exclaimed right after Piotr’s hand let go of his white bishop

Piotr took a full minute to study the board. He could have given up and accepted Beast’s word, but then he would have learned nothing from his (yet another) loss:
“- I don’t see it”   

Zoey had debated on whether she even wanted to show up to this meeting. She had come to understand the X-Men to be really rather preachy and judgemental, excepting possibly Professor X himself and even that probably due to his aggressively neutral stance. Still, Zoey owed them much and had been a strong player in the events back on Norbert's Island (Norbert? Norman? names remain hard) and so ultimately conceded her presence was necessary.

Plus, with Frank gone, Zoey was now the closest thing her peer group had to a leader. Sweet mercy that was not a very good sign for much of anything.

Zoey had entered the room quietly, and spectated the chess match between the two men whose brains were as big as their muscles. They played on a much higher level than her and she was just as helpless to find the Beast's prophesied win as his opponent. Maybe... the rook? No. Yes?

Zoey gives up on that and goes to sit by the fire, as closely as possible without getting in Remy's way. She doesn't want to be the first to speak up to anyone here. They'll greet her when they're ready.

Now this was an intimidating gathering.  Kate wasn't really sure why she had been invited, if invited it was and not required to show up.  Instead of one of the cute outfits that others had purchased for her recently she was wearing something far more sensible for this kind of a rainy day, slightly oversized fuzzy warm sweatpants and sweatshirt along with fuzzy slippers.  The whole outfit sort of hanging off her but being warm.

She did have one hope for the meeting though, even if she did get scolded and yelled at, that they would say what had happened to keep the others from coming back.  So she willfully refused the desire to shift and hide beneath the sofa or curtains and only quasi-lurked in Zoey's shadow waiting for the shoe to drop.