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female Nova gets dropped on the X-Men
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He shrugs awkwardly. "If there's anything I can do..."

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Blaze bites her lips. "The rules? No-one's told me any?"

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"Uh--don't run in the halls, don't cheat on tests, don't hit the other students or teachers or whatever unless it's a consensual training exercise or something, don't use people-affecting powers on others without their consent?"

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"...that's it?"

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"I could be forgetting something?"

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"Oh. Just seems. Easy?"

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"I mean, yeah, if rules are hard to follow there's probably something wrong with 'em."

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"...there is?" She looks, a little bit, like that simple statement has shaken something fundamental. (She'd always thought she was just too stupid to be able to.)

There's flames flickering around her fingers again as she winds them together.

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"Oh," she looks at her flickering hands. She can feel the flames trying to get away from her, trying to wind up her wrists.

She reaches into the bucket, under the pretense of reaching for the sponge again. She hisses as the flames die under the water, skin feeling burned in a way it never did from heat.

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And this is when Edie walks up.

"Hey, I felt you were awake. ...What are you doing?"

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She pulls her hands out of the water, barely remembering to grab the sponge. "Cleaning the floor?" she more asks than says. (Her hands are steaming slightly.)

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"You really don't have to."

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"...I was awake?" she says. "I- thought it would be helpful?"

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"Well, you weren't wrong. It just--I didn't want you to think you owed it to us. You don't. You don't owe anybody anything."

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That...isn't right. She doesn't think?

"I-" she looks briefly up at Edie, trying to gauge the correct answer here. "As you say?" she says eventually.

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Edie sits down on the floor beside her and hugs her.

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She goes briefly tense before leaning into the hug. "M'sorry?"

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"You didn't do anything wrong."

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"Okay," she murmurs. She reaches over to drop the sponge back into the bucket. "I should..." she says quietly, gesturing to it.

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"I- either finish the floors, or- or put the bucket away?"

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"Right, that makes sense."

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She still hesitates, not entirely sure which she should do. (Her hands hurt.) "I-" She can finish the floors later, she's sure. "I'll. Put the bucket away?" (It's more a request for permission than anything else.)

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"Okay--what's wrong with your hands?"

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