Moving Out/Moving In

[François Laffont]

Franck wondered for a time if he should take a room in the college dorm this year. He wanted to prove his father he was becoming an adult. But he opted out at the end. Despite how it would make his life easier if he wanted to meet with his friends, and lover, he didn't want to take a place from a student who might need it more than he did. After all, his father lived in town and he lived with his father. Plus he was pretty used by now to use the bus all the way to Bellefonte. Owning a car might be a good idea but it was not something he was bugging his father about. It cost a lot of money and Franck was always cautious not to ask too much out of people.

All this to say it was not his boxes he was moving throughout the hallways to one of the college dorms. Elsa had so kindly asked for Ellen and himself to help the students who had to move out of the high school dorms into a college one, as well as any new students who moved in and this was what he was doing. Ellen was... to be true, he had no idea where she was. He tried not to pay too much attention, even though he was well aware that he was likely doing all the work here. That too, he preferred not to think about. He just had a more helpful nature than Ellen. She would likely use another term but he’d say that.

“There you go, that should be the place,” he said as he reached a door. He had no idea what was inside the box he agreed to carry but it was pretty heavy. Unless it was the bag she added on top of it, blocking most of his sight that was. But his money was on the box. “They must have given you a key, non? I don’t know exactly which room you have in it but I can place the box in it if you open up first,” he added in his most charming French accent.

[Logan Diacha]

Moving in. Oh yes. Logan had been thinking about that fact her entire flight over. Usually followed by a silent exhale as she rethought over what her brother had said. "It will be good for business and let you see new sights!" Had been his cheery explanation when she questioned his plan. "Besides, I trust no one else to meet our new contacts." So Logan had agreed and off to America she went. And it was..... America. Not great but not terrible. Just decent really, and nothing she was too impressed with.

She was just a tad more impressed with the school when they finally arrived late in the day. But she was mostly impressed because of the old architecture. The rest of it she hardly cared for to be honest. It was a school, and one that apparently operated very similarly to her old school; St. Bethany. So it was basically just a change of scenery and more work to do from scratch while keeping everything else the same. Oh joy.

Although that wasn't completely true. There were also new people, like the boy helping her carry her things to her new room. At the first kind words of greeting, Logan pegged him as French. His accent was about as obvious as Logan's face was unreadable. Since he offered to help, she gave him one of her boxes and threw a bag on top of it. Little did the boy know what exactly he was carrying. He probably thought it was clothes or something. Which it was, but also technology for Logan to hook up to her computer. Each of her boxes and bags had a bit of tech in them. She needed a lot, and she wasn't about to put them all in one container. Better safe than sorry, and unseen rather than stolen.

"Got it." Came her dry reply as she fished the key out with one hand while balancing two boxes with her other and her hip. A few seconds later and the door swung open, revealing no one inside. Her roommates must've been out for the night. Logan observed the four doors across the room before heading in more and setting her boxes carefully down on the floor. Then she turned and helped the boy place his share of the luggage down carefully as well.

"Only a few more." Logan commented before looking up at the boy, expression as neutral and bored-looking as it always seemed. She supposed she ought to thank him, as it was only right. So she did. "Thank you, by the way." She added as she glanced around to observe her surroundings before her eyes landed on the boy again.

[François Laffont]

Franck didn’t understand why Elsa asked Ellen to help. Because it was a terrible idea. And torture. He was just not sure if it was torture for him or for Ellen the most. Either way, Franck believed it was best Ellen was not in the way. That girl was able to make them second guess their decision of going to college here. If they had to be welcomed, it was best that it was with a friendlier face. And no one screamed friendly more than Franck. At least, he sure did more than Ellen.

Although the girl he ended up helping was not exactly the type you’d figure came here for a friend. She had a tough exterior and a face that refused to show any emotion. Not that it mattered much to the French boy as she could not possibly hide her emotions from him. Unless she was able to suppress powers and she then would need to know that he could read her feelings. Or if she had apathy. He always wondered what would happen if he met someone who had a power countering his. That would be weird, no doubt.

He had no idea what was in her boxes. He might have made an attempt of a joke about how heavy they appeared to be but he did not press the matter any further and she did not appear to be the kind to share. One thing for sure, judging by the way she was watching her boxes, it was pretty delicate stuff inside. Probably a bunch of clothes too, but he doubted any girl, let alone one dressed the way she did, would worry so much about her clothes she’d show that more care in placing the boxes down.

He nodded as she told him there were a few more of those, said with a voice as emotionless as her face. She did thank him and he smiled at her. A bright smile, the kind that could be referred to as his trademark, had she just known him enough to know he had such a trademark. Only she didn’t. “No problem, really. You’re new as I understood, where do you come from?” Franck asked as they left the room to go and pick up her other boxes. Because everyone knows people so neutral in their expression even though they just moved in a new school only wants to make friends with the first kind person to come their way.

[Logan Diacha]

The thanks seemed to brighten the boy up, because he flashed her a smile so bright that Logan probably could've absorbed energy from it. However, she didn't believe it. Growing up where she had and how she had, Logan didn't believe in genuine people any longer. There was always something somebody wanted. And this boy probably just wanted to be done with Logan. But oh well. He had asked her a question so she felt compelled to reply.

"Amsterdam." She said, heading out the door towards where the rest of her boxes were. She did this all with the only emotion being one of determination. She wanted to get this done and that was that. She didn't need to feel anything else, and frankly she didn't feel anything else at the moment. Perhaps a mild curiosity about the school and all she had to do, but that was about it. Logan didn't feel much when she had something to do other than sheer determination and a cold neutrality.

Once they reached the boxes, Logan hefted one and handed it to the boy carefully. Then she figured that, once again, she should probably ask his name. These things were pretty damn heavy. "I'm Logan, since you're carrying my stuff. What's your name?" She asked.

[François Laffont]

She was not the first person to mistrust him at first. Most people here seemed to have felt abandonment or treason at some point in their life, to the point that it seemed to be a required thing to be a mutant. Trust issues was a common thing around here and Franck learned to shrug it off as if it was not happening. Eventually, he’d get to this girl’s heart. Or not and they would both be on their way never seeing each other again. He supposed he could live with either option.

Franck nodded as she answered him. It was nice to meet another European But Amsterdam was a long way from his small French hometown and he doubted pointing out they both came from the old continent would make them bond. The curiosity she had, mixed with all curiosity was usually mixed with, but that was nothing to surprise Franck, since this was a new school for her. “Does that mean you studied at St Bethany? Or... I’m sorry, I know there is another one in Europe but I don’t remember the name,” he asked her. To think he could have gone there too. But he had not thought of that for so long now and couldn’t even see himself doing so anymore. Bellefonte and Kalispell had grown into his home now.

He grabbed the box she handed over to him. Another heavy one. But Franck did not complain. He had been helping other people before her and was not going to whine now that it was nearly over. Even if he could use a break. At least he didn’t move that many boxes before. She introduced herself and he looked at her as she talked. “I’m François, but everyone here calls me Franck,” he told her as he gave her another smile, ready to carry those boxes to her room. He really started to know the way through the college dorms now.

[Logan Diacha]

The boy seemed determined to ask about Logan's life, but it was only fair considering. Besides, she was new. People seemed to always be very curious about the new people. So she would amuse him, answer his questions. Depending on what they were. "Yes, I'm from St. Bethany originally." She confirmed with a nod and a shrug. He probably expected more, so she saw no harm in it. "This school seems pretty similar, from what I've heard and seen." She added, musing to herself a bit as well.

She was a bit surprised that he wasn't complaining, but then again he had probably signed up for this. Or was dragged into it. In that case, he at least was keeping his mouth shut impressively. Logan hefted a box of her own before starting off back to the dorm. As they walked, the boy introduced himself. The name was indeed very french. And Logan figured she should offer her name in return. "Logan." She offered as they eventually reached the rooms again and she put the boxes down carefully again.

This Franck had helped her quite a bit. He was probably tired. "I can do the rest." Logan stated as she helped place his box down.

[François Laffont]

This girl didn’t seem like the sharing type but Franck was not asking anything too personal. He was not asking for her whole biography or her passions or hobbies or if she left a boyfriend, or girlfriend, in Amsterdam or whatever school she came from. She couldn’t give him the name of the other school in Europe but confirmed she was from St Bethany. He nodded at that. “I was originally supposed to go there. But my father believed it would be better here,” he shared with her, not caring she was a total stranger and this was a rather huge, although also insignificant, part of his life. He smiled as she talked of the similarities between the two schools. “I’m sure you’ll like it in here. And we have several students who went to St Bethany as well. You might recognize some.” He didn’t know if that was something she would be pleased at or not care at all. He had yet sized her up. Even when he did, he always made sure to allow himself to change that mentality with everything else he might learn about her. He was not what you would call judgemental.

Logan was a rather unusual name. To be exact, Franck believed it was more a guy name. And he was pretty sure the person he had before him was not a guy. But hey, his name pretty much meant Frenchman, so he supposed he couldn’t talk. Maybe in Amsterdam, Logan fit both genders.

She assured him she could do the rest. He nodded again. “You won’t need any other help? If so, you can always find me, if not around here, down on the first floor,” Franck said, understanding when someone was pushing him away. He still couldn’t help looking at the boxes with some curiosity. But he should not pry. He told her that if she needed anything she could get him. He doubted there was anything else he could do. Or should do.

[Logan Diacha]

The boy continued speaking as they moved the boxes to her room, mentioning how he had almost gone to St. Bethany's himself. That made Logan glance at him with a faint trace of curiosity. Apparently his father had felt the boy would do better in the American school. Logan couldn't see why that would be. As she had voiced, the schools seemed very similar. Perhaps it was America itself that was the cause.

But he moved right on from that, stating that he was certain she would like it there. And apparently that there were other kids from St. Bethany's too. Logan raised an eyebrow at this, actually curious. But not for the sake of making friends. Mostly just to see if it was someone she'd have to avoid. Although she doubted it. She never left a trace of what she really did. "Could you tell me who?" She asked.

Once they reached the room and set everything down, Franck asked if she needed any other help, and that he was on the first floor if she ever had need of him. It was a generous offer, but Logan felt like he probably didn't mean it. Besides, she had a lot to do that she would rather have no one around to see. So she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though." She stated politely. There. Over and done with.

[François Laffont]

He did get some light curiosity from her at his words but everything about her seemed moderate. He didn’t think she was incapable of powerful emotions. She simply felt none at the right moment. But Franck knew better then underestimating the quiet ones. They often ended up the loudest for him. He might have to meet with Logan later, see how she was doing in this new school once she settled in.

He didn't give more details than what he offered her about St Bethany’s and how he should have gone there. It mattered little, in the end. Especially to her. It was personal. She asked him who was from this school around here. “Uh... it’s not like I know them all, mind you. But there’s Frank Cox. She left about two years ago to come here. And Zoe Waller - not sure how you pronounce her name. She too has been here for a while. And Heather. She’s the daughter of the director or something like that? There might be more, but I don’t know everyone here,” Franck told her giving her a smile at that. She just arrived so she didn’t know he was amongst the most popular but even if he was, there was a limit how many of the students he could know.

He really meant it, if she needed help. A part of him was tired but he signed up for this and would not turn someone down just because he wanted a break. He nodded when she assured she was fine. He left her, coming back a few minutes later, knocking at the door so she would know he was there. “I forgot to give you this. You have to sign it and give it to the office on the first floor once you’re done.” he said before telling her goodbye again.