The room was lit by the faint light of a green lava lamp, its glow falling softly over crisp, blank pages. The warming scent of vanilla filled the still room, the faintest hint of smoke dancing through the shadows, twisting and curling as it rose from the incenses that rested on the night stand. Sunlight flirting at the edge of the room as it peaked its way from between the drawn curtains, its golden glow falling on the wall above the simple bed where an old framed poster hung. The edges were yellowed with the haunting touch of age, the edges slightly torn and chipped but the color were faintly dimed by time, but it only added to its vintage charm. The old Captain America propaganda poster, brightened as the sun's golden touch flickered across its glass.

A figure rolled over across the purple sheets, stretching lazily as her long tresses fanned across the purple cotton sheets, her curls wild, yet elegant, like the gentle dancing smoke that rose from the incense at her bedside. The simple fabric was soft under her touch as she sat up, pulling the open notebook to her, pulling out a simple gold colored pen from between the rings that bind the leather book; it's cover soft and supple under her long fingers. With a soft yawn passed her lips as she propped her head up, she seemingly unfazed by the lack of proper light as the resounding click of the pen met her ears, she taking the point to the waiting page.

Well here we are. I still don't really get how keeping a diary is supposed to be good for me. Though I guess you're a little big to be called a diary, I think you are more of a journal. I'm going on tangents again aren't I? Sorry, yes, I just seriously wrote sorry on a piece of paper, to apologize to the flipping thing. Anyhow, back on topic, I don't get how writing out my thoughts and feelings in you is good for my mental, and emotional wellbeing, but Professor insisted since I filled up my old one, who am I to argue with a man who has P.H.D's in psychology?

I still think he wants me to write in you so he and Storm can flip through you when I'm not looking. I KNOW someone read my last one, they left flipping Cheese Puff stains on it, seriously guys the pages smelt like cheese for ages! So, yeah, despite how stupid this feels, I'll write in you, I guess I should call you something since, writing "Hey diary!" Is just, so bleck. I think I'll call you DJ, short for Darling Journal, hey now, don't judge.

So DJ let's get this started, I guess I should tell you about me first since you don't know me like DD, my old diary, so to start; My name is Olivia Winters, and I'm not what you would call a normal girl, well I guess woman now since I'm twenty four. Right now I live at Professor Charles Xavier's Mansion, or as it's also called, Charles Xavier's institute for the Gifted. Can you guess why I'm not so normal yet?

Well you see those that go to the Xavier Institute aren't here because of their brains; no we are all here because we are different. Not quite human, some call us the next step in the human race, some call us freaks, some genetic mistakes of nature, some go so far to say we aren't even part of the human race. We are Mutants. We are all different, with different gifts, or powers, whatever you want to call it. Though I'd be here all day telling you about all of us here but I'll go through those I find a firm part of my life.

There is of course Professor Xavier, or his codename, something a lot of us get, Professor X. I owe him a lot, he saved me, plain and simple, if he and the others hadn't found me, well, I wouldn't be writing this. Professor Xavier is a good man, smart, strong and determined. Kind, gentle in many ways, especially with the mutant children he takes in to help teach them how to control their powers, and to cope….At times it seems it's only he and us, the X-men, who are standing between mutant and human-kind, keeping them from ripping each other apart, hiding us from a world who isn't ready for the truth that we walk among them.

He thinks it's possible that one day that Mutants and Humans can live side by side in peace. I really do hope he's right. I look up to the Professor, he looks after us, he's looked after me, even when at times it would be easier on him to just kick me out. I hope he never reads this, it would be about like my dad reading this thing.

The Professor might be stuck in a wheelchair, how I still haven't got him to tell me, but he is one of the strongest Mutants here if you ask me. (Which you are since you are MY journal!) He's an amazing telepath, I mean it freaking spooky how he can just get in your head, find what is deep down, but there isn't anyone I trust more than him to be in there. He can do so much more then that though, it almost makes me wish I had the mental abilities like he and Jean do.

Next on my list is Logan, A.K.A Wolverine. Don't let him fool you journal he isn't as intimidating as he tries to seem. He's rough around the edges, blunt, tough, all around kickass and the last guy I ever want to stab in the back. I've seen what he does to the baddies.

Sure I thought he was a little scary, he was a big strange man, when I first met him but, he is a good guy under all that, well you have to know him to get what I mean. His codename fits him pretty well. Though Logan, despite his rough outside, has a sweet center, at least I think so, he's looked after us at the institute since the day it became his home. Well in Logan's own way. His mutation I think it's pretty cool, I mean claws that come out of your knuckles?! How is that not cool? Though they are covered in this odd metal, and you can seriously shoot him in the head and he will be completely okay, I'll say it one more time, last guy I want to tick off. Though I do like Logan, he teaches a sort of combat course here at the institute, it's pretty fun!

Next is Ororo Munroe, or Storm, she is, well she is a good teacher, she is nice-sh. Though like Scott she is a bit stiff, she tries to mother quite a few of the students, she even has with me, it nice I guess, but like a mom she nags a bit, and acts like she knows what's right all the time. I mean Storm for the love of all that is holy you're not always right! I'll stop at that point because, again, we will be here all day.

Storm really doesn't seem to like humans, I don't blame her too much, I mean those that know and believe we exist aren't exactly the most open. The norms rarely are. Though Storm almost borderlines hate sometimes, though I'm not sure if that's it. As her code name suggests she manipulates the weather, and if you ever seen her twisters? Never want to get caught in one of those. Things with me and Storm shifts from friendly to we almost seem like we want to slug each other.

Scott Summers, or Cyclops. Scott, well it's complicated, I care about Scott, I owe him so much, and he was there when I was rescued. He was part of the team. The first thing I remember of meeting Scott is him picking me up off that cold cement floor. It was the first time I felt safe and warm in a long time. I love Scott I guess is a way to say it, not like him and Jean loved each other; don't get me wrong I think Scott is pretty good looking, dare I say at the risk of him EVER reading this, hot, but no, I don't love him like that, or even have a crush on him. This feeling is more like, I guess how I would love a sibling, a hero who saved me. Though I'd shoot myself in the foot before I tell him that.

He keeps telling me to grow up, and the fact he's sort of our leader can go to his head. Despite that, no matter how I like to mess with him, Scott is a good guy, I know he'll look after us no matter what. I just wish. I miss Jean, and I'm sure he does too. Scott has seem more distant since Jean died. I'm worried about him, but, what can I do? Crap this is the feelings thing the Professor was telling me to vent isn't it? Let's move on. Scott shoots like laser beams from his eyes, he has to keep it under control with these sunglasses and to help control it with some sort of visor.

Next is Kurt Wagner, A.K.A. Nightcrawler. Kurt, well Kurt is pretty cute if you ask me, I know might be weird that I think a guy with blue skin, pointed ears and a tail is cute, but I do, it's more I think he's a sweet guy. Devout to his religion, something I can respect, but the brandings on him, the fact he did that to himself makes me worry about him, I mean heck I know I'm not alight in the head, no denying it but it worries me he would do that to himself.

He's also peaceful, he's unique. I wouldn't go so far to say I have a crush on him, well maybe a small one. (Kurt I doubt you would break into a ladies drawer and read her journal, but if you're reading this, I will so kill you man, dead serious. Start praying sugar.) After that whole thing with Stryker, it took me a bit but we are sort of friends, I was a bit timid of him to be honest, I was more afraid I'll say something insulting or something, but yay me I didn't until he knew me for a bit. Kurt's power is pretty cool, he teleports in a poof of smoke, eat your shorts all you sucky magicians, Kurt kicks your human butts!

Then there is Rouge and Robert "Bobby" Drake, or Iceman. Rouge; well she's still never told me her real name. Yeah it annoys me she won't tell me, but hey she doesn't press me on why I won't go in a hospital without being drugged or knocked out. The two are a cute couple, Bobby is a nice guy, he's good for Rouge. I wish she didn't hate her powers so much, hate being a Mutant as much as she does. She's a bit broody I guess. I can't really blame her I mean if I can't touch the man I love, anyone without having to cover every inch of my skin or I might kill them, I might be a little bitter too. Bobby well as his codename suggest his power deals with ice, more like he can create it and manipulate temperature. Pretty neat, yes I just used the word neat.

Then there is my best friend, even if I'm told I'm nuts for calling her that, but hey, Chaos, is my best friend! Sure everyone calls her cold, heartless, and well, sure she really has a low bullshit level but hey, she isn't that bad! She lets me play with her inventions and there is no one I trust more at my back. Though since this turned out longer than I thought, so I'll tell you more about her next time so that I can finally tell you what I can do. Well my Code name is Artemis, you know the Greek goddess.

My power is I can shape-shift into any animal, warm or cold blooded, but trust me turning cold blooded is not a comfortable or safe thing. I put myself in hypothermic shock last time I did that. Taught me to warm myself up before I changed back next time. The Professor thinks I might be able to shape shift into other things one day, like mythical creatures, since I have been able to do other things with my powers. Like I have been able to manipulate my size in animal form, once I turned into a panther the size of a small horse.

Though that's not all I can do, I apparently can take on the attributes of animals while in my real form, like the heighten sense of smell like a blood hound, or the nocturnal vision of a jungle cat, though I risk getting permanently stuck that way. That has happen before; that is why my eyes are the tanned gold color they are now, I had fun sneaking up on others in the dark and well, you get the idea. I also like quite a few have heighten healing and durability; I guess nature's way of compensating for her improvements. Finally I can sort of communicate with animals, it's nothing like I really understand them, it's more like when you learn a few words of a language, you kind of get an idea, but I found that only works if I am in the same form as the animal, as well as they sort of understand me that way.

I guess that is why they call me Artemis since I have such an affiliation with animals, and well I'm pretty useful when you need to track someone, I'm better than a blood hound. It's one of the reasons I'm still here instead of moving on like quite a few other graduates of the institute, though as well I help to teach the other shifters how to without hurting themselves and becoming more comfortable with it. The professor thinks it makes it easier for them to connect with someone who might have had the same power problems. I'm happy to help the kids and the Professor however I can.

A loud beeping sound broke through the silence of her room as the woman sprawled atop the bed, the sheets askew, clear that she had made herself comfortable before she set to this long task of writing in her journal. Her lightly tan skin a soft contrast against the dark purple sheets. Her messy, loose dark brown curls having slid over her shoulder as she shifted, startled by the sudden sound. Olivia let her burnt gold gaze fall on her digital clock. The bright red numbers glaring at her in the shadows of her room, she having blocked out the light as she had settled down to start a once thought to be short entry. "Shit!" She cursed rolling out of bed.

With that I have to run. An old classmate asked me and a few others to attend a party with him. He said his parents wanted to meet the people who he apparently raved about from his days in the institute. I've never been to Stuttgart, Germany! Here's hoping I don't make a fool of myself DJ.

Olivia shut her Journal with a snap before she dug out the suitcase she had slid under her bed the night before. A soft grunt left her as she threw it on top of her bed. The girl snapping open the leather bag, only for a few things she had packed to try and liberate themselves. She knew she was only going to be gone for two days at most, and David had insisted that his sister had a formal dress that would fit her, but she couldn't help but pack her bag to the brim. It was an improvement really last time she got to bring luggage on a trip she packed two cases and still felt like she didn't have everything. She took out her make-up bag, placing her new journal in its place, the soft black leather standing out against the red top it rested on.

The young woman slamming her palm on the beeping clock, before she made a dash out of the room and for one of the bathroom. She nearly knocks over Kurt who had been minding his own business, just walking down the hall on his way to meet with storm. He only hearing a shouted sorry as the woman slammed the bathroom door behind her. The man raising a single blue brow, letting loose a soft chuckle at the girl. He almost wishes he could say that it was out of the usual to see the woman bouncing about like that. She never was very good at being on time.