[ Rogue has never once thought of her mutation as a gift. Being a mutant in itself, perhaps, back in her early days with the X-Men when things seemed to be working out, but never the mutation that made even simple human contact impossible for her. Especially not after what she'd been through in the war.

Picking up that glass with only slight difficulty, she takes a long sip and only grimaces for a moment at the awful taste. The burn is welcome though. ]

I was seventeen when I came to your school, and I spent the better part of a decade there teaching as part of the X-Men. That's about 30 years in your future, though.

[ If that future still exists. ]