{2. Have you ever heard of Project GEM?}

Dreamer's POV

As soon as my feet landed on the pavement, I flicked the collar of my coat upwards to conceal most of my face. My boots stomped through the residue of rain mixed with street litter. The best I could do was ignore the smell.

The train station looked like it had been hosed by an exhaust pipe, dirty smoke lingered in the air and latched onto my blonde hair, giving it an earthy tinge. I shuddered. I am heading to the Mutant Embassy, which situates in New York. I am not used to the clotted streets here. I don't like the way my shoulders constantly bump into people. I make sure to keep a low profile though. And to my advantage no-one seems to notice anyone, probably because of the wet weather.

The New York ME is supported by large columns similar to the one's at Wall Street. I shuffled through the crowds of three-piece suited men and rushed up the stairs to be greeted by revolving doors. Immediately, the atmosphere around me changed. The air was more pleasant, the floor was a polished marble and I felt at ease...at least for now.

I approached an office lady, whose reception desk was surrounded by beautiful bouquets of exotic flowers. My eyes admired the flowers for a moment before I turned to...Ms Hepburn. That's what her name tag said. She looked up at me and offered a kind smile.

"How may I assist you today, miss?" She asked, twirling a pen in one hand. I took a deep breath.

"I'm here to see Mr Verite." It was important that I see him as soon as possible. I traveled all the way from the Netherlands, a three month journey at that, just to be here. I bit my bottom lip anxiously. This was it.

"I'm sorry but you have to make an appointment, and the next available slot is in three weeks." She replied, showing off her pearly whites. I inwardly cringe. Three weeks? What would become of me in three weeks?

"This is urgent. I have to see him today. Please, is there anything you can do?" I begged.

"I am extremely sorry miss, but there are mutants who have been on this waiting list for months. I cannot change the schedule." Ms Hepburn reasoned. Although she seemed genuinely concerned, I could not have it. I have to see him.

"Where is his room?" I demanded, my fist pounded the desk like a mallet. She looked at me uneasily. That's when I realized the approaching security guards emerging from my peripheral vision. "Please, I really need to see him." But by this time, the guards have successfully intervened between Ms Hepburn and I.

"I going to have to ask you to leave, miss." One of the sturdy guards said. I gritted my teeth. I looked behind them and saw a flight of stairs leading up to a second floor. Mr Verite had to be up there somewhere.

I nodded towards the guards, making it look like I was about to turn on my heel and leave, before I unleashed my element of surprise and backhanded them in the face. I'm not usually a violent person, but what can I say, I'm desperate. Ms Hepburn gasped as I started for the stairs, my heavy coat wasn't much help, it was slowing me down. The people descending from the stairs just shot me weird glances, only the guards dared to pursue me.

"Stop right there!" I didn't look back.

"Somebody stop her!" Oh dear. And that's when I felt strong hands grab my shoulder and envelope me into a restricting embrace.

"Let me go!" I squirmed. It was useless. The guards caught up to me but with an apologetic look on their red faces. That backhand must've hurt.

"Sorry Mr Verite, we asked her to leave and she slapped us." The guard explained pathetically. I rolled my eyes. Wait a minute...did he say Mr Verite? I whipped my head around, positive that I pulled something in my neck.

A tall man with slick black hair and a straight nose looked at me with a questioning eyebrow. So that's him. But before I could say anything the guards clamp their hands around me and proceeded to drag me away.

"No! You don't understand. Please it's important! Mr Verite, please! Please!" I don't care how many eyes turned my way. I was desperate. My hands were outstretched towards him and pleading eyes were very close to tears and-

"Let the girl go." he ordered with an exasperated sigh. My face instantly lit up as the confused guards released me with a complaint nod. Mr Verite's charcaol eyes gazed at my discoloured ones with intense curiosity that I almost shy away. I mouthed out a "thank you" to him. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

*

Mystique's POV

I burst into Charles' office with an annoyed grunt. He looked up from his work, taking a quick sip from his black coffee and then asked me.

"What's the matter, Raven?" I could tell that he was mildly amused. I rolled my eyes and slouched next to him on the sofa.

"I am blue, Charles, blue!" I complained, even though I had shifted into my blonde-haired, brown eyed human form. Charles looked at me, perplexed. I normally keep to myself, so this was notably odd. I sighed."I changed today on a train and as expected, there was a chorus of screams. Banshee would have been jealous." I elaborated.

"You changed in public?" Charlie asked. The corner of his lips inconspicuously curved upwards.

"Oh shut up, you know how I am." I don't change into my true form in public. The only people I am comfortable with seeing me in my blue skin is Charles and Eric. I honestly don't know why I had the sudden impulse to do so today. I guess that Heterochromia girl really got to me. I really wanted to show her the effect I have on people, make her swallow back her words. But now...I regretted it.

"I don't see why you are making this such a big deal. You're blue, that's nothing to be ashamed of. To be honest I am quite proud of you for exposing yourself today. Baby steps, Raven, baby steps." He smirked. I glared at him before retreating to his desk, which was littered with stacks of paperwork. He has surrounded himself with all these documents for the past forty-eight hours. It's what you do when you're the school's Principal. I sighed again.

Charles doesn't understand what it feels like to be a freak because he doesn't have to hide the way I do. People scream when they see me. I'm blue! With red hair and yellow eyes! As if my mutation couldn't come up with a better genotype. Like seriously. Argh, this is so annoying. It's all that girl's fault. What did she say again?There's nothing wrong with being blue. Easy for her to say, considering the only thing she has to deal with is one blue and one green eye. That's nothing!

I shake my head to clear my conflicting thoughts. I wished I could eliminate those petrified faces and shrieks. But each one embeds itself inside me...making me despise what I look like even more.

"Raven, that girl was being nice." Charles pointed out. I shot him a death's stare.

"I thought you promised not to read my mind!" Although I am impressed with Charles psychic abilities, I really don't want him lurking in my head for memories, like a student looking for a good book in a library.

"I'm sorry, it's just that your thoughts are so imperative sometimes but if I were to be critical, you insulted her for having a 'pretty' mutation. That's not nice, Raven." Charles mused. I rolled my eyes, something I was probably born to do. I know he's right. I mean, I didn't have to make that rude comment on the train, but I have been really moody lately. Teenage hormones? That's a plausible excuse, considering I age half the speed of a regular human. I knew I needed to let this go, so I transformed myself in that Heterochromia girl on the train.

"There's nothing wrong with being blue." I mimicked her voice in a childish manner. Charles chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

*

Dreamer's POV

Once the door was locked and I sat myself adjacent to Mr Verite. I felt my insides practice knot tying. I have never really spoken to anyone about what I am. You could say I am a little introverted. I have been so careful not to arouse suspicion. Everyone I had encountered just thought I was a typical mutant looking for an embassy in New York.

"What's your name?" Mr Verite snapped me out of my reverie.

"Dreamer." I replied in a small voice.

"You're full name." He prompted. Uh oh.

"I...I don't know. Its always been Dreamer. Nothing else." I stammered. I could feel his calculating eyes burning into me and it made my anxiety worsen. I couldn't imagine how strange my response might've sounded. But Mr Verite good-naturedly dismissed it.

"Well then, Dreamer. What is it that you want?" I looked up at him, hopeful. I learnt that the Mutant Embassy focalises on transferring foreign mutants to America and helps them to assimilate into schools or boarding houses or both. I was hoping they could do that for me, considering I don't have a valid identity.

"I want to apply for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." I announced. There was a brief pause.

"I've had to declined many mutants, Dreamer, even some with exceptional abilities. If you really want to apply, you have to be a little bit more...convincing." I know I am not giving him much to work with. I guess I sort of hoped the distressed scene I caused ten minutes ago could perhaps prompt him to help me. He knows I am desperate. But his eyes asks me why. And I don't feel confident about opening up to him or anyone for that matter.

"I have nowhere else to go." I murmured. But he did not sympathize. Instead he leant over the table and in a low threatening voice said.

"My name is Verite which is French for truth. And although you are not lying to me. I'm going to need more of the truth or else I will demand it...and trust me, you'd prefer to speak willingly," my eyes widened...he is a mutant too. I stopped fidgeting with my fingers and decided to trust him. What choice did I have anyway? This was my only chance. "Do not waste my time, Dreamer. Tell me everything." I nodded.

"Have you ever heard of Project GEM?" I asked. His eyes immediately glinted with awe and he grinned wildly. I'll take that as a yes. "Well, three months ago I woke up on a train in the Netherlands with a case of memory fragmentation. I didn't know what happened to me or the scientist that created me. My only hope was to see Professor X so that he could help me regain my memories. But in order to do that I had to see you first, because I don't have any personal details; no full name, address, contacts, nothing. And drifting here and there was the closest I have come to integrating into society. I have never seen so many people before. I could only recall being confined in the laboratory my whole life...till now." There was a long pause. Mr Verite stroked his non-existent beard and made a lot of "hmmm" sounds.

"What are your abilities?" He finally asked. I inwardly blush.

"I don't know. They're dormant." Please be dormant. What fun would it be to just have Heterochromia and no powers? I looked at Mr Verite, trying to read his thoughts through his body language, but he didn't give anything away, other than the fact that he was still contemplating on what to do with me. He knitted his hands together and put his black polished shoes on the desk.

"Professor X would be fascinated to have you. Project GEM was an illegal and private practice that was exploited a few months ago. But news quickly died down. Not sure how or why. Some even say it's just a rumour...but I am sure they are wrong. We might have to collect some DNA samples from you and have that checked before we make further arrangements. This could be the start of something truly amazing." His eyes glimmered in an unsettling way. But I ignored it.

I didn't mind the DNA samples, as long as that meant I could finally meet Professor X. Plus I never had a problem with needles. Not when I had sixteen years to be poked and prodded with them.

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