"I was all responsible and informed my foster parents that a powerful mutant seduced me and I was going to be taken by him to live somewhere else. But my foster father didn't choke on his beer as expected. They didn't really believe me until I started floating off the ground. No problems as far I see."

"Man, some people are just no fun at all. Open your window for me?"

Should Trevor look out his window, he will notice Xan, hovering with a pair of enormous red wings.

"Wow, I like your style." He says opening the window. His room is not a cupboard under the stairs, but it's very modest, but luckily very much his own.

"You all packed? Or is this what your room looks like anyway?"

"Packed. The joy of the Spartan life style is not having much to bring anyway." He says with a shrug.

"Fair enough!"

Xan picks Trevor up without significant effort, bag and all, and hops out the window. His wings snap out to catch the air, and they're flying.

Trevor wraps his arms around Xan's neck. "Oh, thank you for rescuing me from my terrible home situation."

"Oh, yeah, must've sucked. Told them all about your mutant awakening and they didn't even get the shotgun."

"I know! What is even the point of TK field if you are not harmlessly shot once in a while?"

"Hah. I'd trade you my family's reaction, then, sounds like you'd have fun with it. Dad with a shotgun, full SWAT team called in, two months on the run knocking over liquor stores and fighting local hero teams."

"Ouch, sorry, my dude. Also, what the fuck?"

"Yeah, it turns out there's still assholes in California."

"Ugh. How did you get to Whateley?"

"Turns out some of those local heroes are, like, good at their jobs. I robbed a payday lender outside of Reno and the next thing I knew, Iridium Mystic bound me in magic-suppressing chains and read me the riot act. When she realized I was fourteen, she told me about Whateley, I told her to go fuck herself, and she said I could either go to Mutie High or go to maximum security. So I did the former. Way better deal than I expected."

Trevor clamps down the annoying shoulder angel impulse to comment on that crime stint. "Well, despite school being called kid's jail, I can see why you took that deal."

"Yep. Kid Jail strictly superior to Actual Jail. So, what's your story? You were in foster care, did something exciting happen to your folks?"

"No idea! Someone found me asleep in a park when I was barely able to walk. The best they could get out of me was that I had just made a long car trip before the park and I was with 'aunt'. I don't remember it. I guess they could be mutants that got into shenanigans."

"Huh. Sounds weird, at least. You ever feel like finding your biofamily, that's basically the easiest thing blood magic can possibly do."

"Wow. Good thing you are already holding me. So many surprises. Is the school forced to hand me over in that case?"

"Oh fuck no. In the considered opinion of Whateley Academy, kids don't have to do jackshit, especially not go back to their biological families. But I figured, hey, might be cool to know what the fuck, right?"

"Aha, great. And of fucking course I would want to know. It might not lead to anything useful, but who knows? Maybe I am the son of Lord Paramout and he will be willing to spare a couple of millions as an allowance."

"Oh, absolutely. Did you know his actual name is Fred? Well, Frederick, but - Fred Paramount. Seriously. The things you learn at Whateley."

"Frederick." Trevor says in disbelief. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. Any famous super-heroes with embarassing names that I can now know? Being part of the mutant club and all."

"Most of them have, like, secret identities to protect? But Paramount... I mean, when you're a dictator you tend to have less skin in the game, you know?"

"Heh, I guess when you get to that point you can't ask for much confidentiality."