Avalon, an Institute of Peace

Posted on Thu Feb 9th, 2023 @ 13:21 by Claire Cavendish & Duke Anthony Cavendish

Chapter: Prologue: Dawn of Avalon
Location: Avalon Institute, Exterior
Timeline: Monday, September 28th, 1992
2587 words - 5.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Claire took in a deep breath through her nose, she'd been peeking into the gathered crowd of journalists and other interested parties from the nearby town and felt that perhaps she really shouldn't have. It had been a tumultuous couple of days with the Sentinel attacking them, the Rangers blowing up a building, and then mentioning the Institute in their manifesto. Her hand was forced in a way that she had been able to avoid since they opened their doors in '89. With her influence, and that of Avalon's benefactor, as well as her father's need to keep everything she did out of the public eye it had been possible to keep Avalon somewhat of a 'public secret'. It was even a bit eerie how easy it was to keep certain things from reaching the public. It had made her wonder what else influential people were keeping from being found out.

She checked her watch and realised that the time had come for her to step up on the small podium and lectern that Cameron had made, from which hung a banner with the Avalon Institute logo made by Otis, to give the press conference that Jhanvi had arranged, and get behind the microphone that DJ had wired up. Even this thing, something as simple as talking to the press, she couldn't even do without the help of all the wonderful people that had started to gather around her at the institute. She cleared her throat, straightened her back, and remembered that all of them were counting on her in this moment.

No pressure.

The moment the head of the institute stepped up to the podium flashes of cameras lit up. They had made sure that the placement of these first shots would show off the nice exterior of the keep. Claire took a moment to stand behind the lectern, allow the press to get a good shot, smile a friendly smile, make sure the eyes join the smile. Think happy thoughts. When the first wave of flashes died down she stepped closer to the microphone.

"Good afternoon everyone." She looked at the paper in front of her, next to the glass of water. This was way too early to have a drink of water. "Thank you for coming and giving me. Us. An opportunity to share our story with you. And the rest of the world. There will be plenty of time for all of your questions at the end of my statement." She eyed the water again, throat drying up at the view of those journalists pointing their cameras at her. She was the face of the Institute. She was the voice of all the faculty and students here. "In times like these it's important to keep asking questions, to keep talking with each other, to keep listening." She reached for the glass and saw her hand visibly shake. "Avalon Institute is a place where we teach our students, and faculty, about the importance of these things."

She grabbed the glass and took a quick sip of water, making sure there wasn't a long enough pause for people to start raising questions. "Which is why I feel it's important to state, unequivocally, that Avalon is in no way associated with the Sherwood Rangers." That raised a couple of voices in the crowd but she immediately raised her hand to stop them from talking over her. "I know we're in a precarious situation, and that tensions are high. But we at Avalon do not believe in meeting violence with violence." She took a moment to seek out the BBC camera in the crowd and made eye contact with it, "Eye for an eye makes the world go blind. We at Avalon choose love." She let her eyes roam across the crowd again.

"The people associated with the Institute stood up against segregation. Against the unlawful war in Vietnam. Against the atrocities that were happening behind the Iron Curtain. And we did so in peaceful protest. In civil disobedience. By talking to the right people, and insisting that our voices be heard." She put the glass of water down and spread her arms. "And now I don't even have to make a wooden sign and yell at the top of my lungs." She smiled at that, hoping it would lighten the mood among the crowd, it didn't seem to resonate all that well with the gathered people of the press.

"When one of our students was attacked by what the news is calling a Sentinel, some of our faculty felt forced to respond. This lifeless, metal, machine threatened the life of a fifteen year old boy, and if it wasn't for the brave men and women of this Institute he would've been whisked away. Plucked from his life. A boy that makes the flowers bloom by brushing his fingertips against its leaves. Taken against his will, had we not intervened." Her hands were grabbing the sides of the lectern. "The photographs and videos that you have seen of the robot, destroyed in the middle of a wrecked station. They didn't show you the side of the story where my friends and my students had to patch up their wounds, where I had to sit by the bed of a fifteen year old boy because he was afraid another robot the size of a small apartment building would come and whisk him away, and that whenever he did manage to drift off to sleep, he woke up thrashing and screaming not thirty minutes later."

Claire shook her head as she recounted the last two days since the Sentinel attack. "Regardless of our ethics and philosophy, I will say this to anyone that is still smart enough to listen. I will do what is necessary to protect anyone within these walls, and we will do what is necessary to protect the innocents that will inevitably be caught in the crossfire between the extremists." Her jaw tightened at that statement, he eyes fierce.

"Let this be a warning to the Sherwood Rangers, and let this be a warning to whomever was behind the creation of the Sentinels. Do not take our reluctance to take up arms as a sign of weakness. Avalon stands in protection of the innocent. The disenfranchised. The forgotten and betrayed. Avalon is an island of peace, where anyone can come and recover from their wounds. That is my promise to the Mutants of the U.K., of Europe, of the world." There was a moment of silence as she took another sip from her water. "I will now take your questions."

The crowd immediately erupted into questions being flung her way, some of the reporters got closer to the podium, waving recording devices and microphones in her face. The whole rush of things made it extremely difficult to distinguish anything coherent. She held up her hands and "Alright, alright. Different approach." She raised her voice, she smirked a bit realising it was her 'call the class to attention'-voice. "You, good sir, what is your question?" She just pointed at a man in her line of sight.

"Miss Cavendish. Jimmy Byline, Action News! Contrary to what you're declaring here, the Sherwood Rangers claim that Avalon is their ally. Do you support their actions that resulted in the death of four and injury of twenty more?"

"Thank you for allowing me to elaborate on this, Mister Byline." Claire felt her jaws clench a bit as he pushed his publication's rhetoric of putting the Rangers and Avalon into the same compartment. She used the initial response to come up with a proper response. "We denounce the actions of the Sherwood Rangers in the strongest possible terms and mourn the loss of life that their aggression has wrought. Our hearts and support are with the victims of their vicious attack."

"Thank you Miss Cavendish. A follow up, how long has your 'institute' been hiding out here?"

"A valid concern, Mister Byline." Claire took a quick sip of the water as she had not properly given thought to a reaction. "While we have never actively been avoiding the public eye, there was never a need to actively reveal our existence to the general public either." That wasn't completely true, she knew for a fact that a couple of things were kept out of the press. "We work together with the local community and mutant organisations around Britain to make our services available to those who need it. The Institute bought the property in 1989, we renovated and applied for the necessary accreditation so we could open our doors for the school year of 1990." She shifted her attention to another waiting reporter.

"Ms Cavendish, just to clarify your statement of working with mutant organisations." Another voice spoke up this time. She gave a nod to allow them to continue asking. "You speak regarding the Sherwood Rangers as though you've had connections to the terrorists. What is your connection with these people and their so called leader, 'Robin Hood'?"

Claire was taken aback by the insistence of the reporters to connect Avalon to Sherwood, and she knew it had to do with the statement made by the man who had identified himself as Robin Hood. She shook her head in an attempt to give her some more time to come up with a politically correct answer rather than wonder out loud if the reporter was hard of hearing or just a slow learner. "There is no connection with Robin Hood or the Sherwood Rangers. Before their public statement yesterday I'd never heard of the organisation, their leader, or the manifesto they purport to carry for all mutants." Another shake from the head. "There is no connection. None whatsoever." She pointed at another man holding his hand up.

"Maddox Malarkey, Esquire. Can you comment on the threat your Institute poses given than one of your students has attracted the attention of these mutant-control measures?"

"Ehm." It was the first moment where Claire lost the flow of questions and answer since the question itself was so heavily front loaded with assumptions. She was used to academic debates. Civil and on the logic of things. All these people insisted on was poisoning the well and ad hominem accusations. "Mister Malarkey, thank you for raising this concern. I can imagine that those outside of the institute would view our organisation and the staff as well as the students within it as threats. As people have always seen a threat in those things they do not fully comprehend. And even as I know that my comment here won't be able to persuade anyone on this topic, I can assure you and those listening, watching, and reading this at home that the people of Avalon Institute do not pose a threat to anyone. We're currently looking into why one of our students was the target of this clandestine operation involving military technology, but I will repeat what I said before. Oliver is a lovely, friendly, and clever young man that reveres life and focuses his attention on renewal and growth rather than destruction." She looked sharply away from the reported not giving him a chance to follow up with a question, hoping to get something better from the next person she looked at.

"Trent Crimm, The Independent. How do you plan on keeping these children under control and safe guarding the normal people in the area?"

It took quite a lot from Claire to bite back a remark, outwardly her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated a more constructive response. "I can understand that people may be concerned for their safety, or the safety of the people in Avalon Institute. We were all startled by the fact that a military mechanised unit designated as a Sentinel would assault one of our innocent young students." She wanted to turn this around. The kids didn't need to be kept under control, they needed to be taught to defend themselves because this had all the markings of becoming a lot worse before it became any better. "Just as we came to the aid of our student, we will also come to the aid of those that might find themselves in peril in the area. The first step of which will be to aid the town of New Cresthill in the rebuilding of their station through manual labour as well as financial support."

"Eddie Brock, The Daily Bugle, New York. Is Spider-Man part of the mutant menace? Or is he a menace unto himself?"

Claire had to stop herself from laughing, she hadn't heard of this Spider-Man and wondered if it was a joke to get some weird statements from her to use against her later down the line. "Welcome to the United Kingdom, Mr Brock." She narrowed her eyes a bit trying to come up with the best way to respond. "I'm unfamiliar with the person referred to as Spider-Man, but I will say that I take offence at the insistence on calling a diverse and inclusive community a menace."

"Miss Cavendish, Alan Douglas, BBC, speaking of diversity and inclusion, what measures does the Institute take to promote this in your school and the local community?"

"Excellent question, Mister Douglas, thank you for raising that concern. It bears repeating that Avalon strives to be a safe haven for those that are inevitably caught in the cross fire between radicals on both sides of the spectrum. I want to extend a hand, a hug, a warm drink, whatever it is you need to those in need. We promote these things by leading by example, and by working closely with local merchants and governing officials to help them where our help is warranted and welcome." Claire was happy to be able to end on a bit of a high note and gave a decisive nod. "Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen. Any follow-up questions may be forwarded to our secretariat and we'll make sure to get an answer back to you as soon as possible. I wish you all a good day, and stay safe."

A cacophony of questions followed Claire as she stepped down from the lectern and hurried off out of the spotlights. Her heart was pounding and her palms were so sweaty she wondered exactly how she had been able to keep hold of the glass of water at all. She looked back at the crowd, conflicted about how that had gone. The speech she had prepared, she felt, had gone well, but the questions were so vile, so laden with prejudice and discontent. She wondered how much of her answers would stick, if there had been anything she could have done to rid these people of their preconceived, and ill conceived, notion that the faculty and students of Avalon were nothing more than threats and menaces to 'normal people'.

Claire felt a lump catch in her throat at that. Normal people. None of them were normal. For the past two decades she had marched, and protested, and lectured on the fact that Mutants were no different from anyone else. But everyone out there seemed to know the truth that had haunted her for all of her adult life. They were not normal. On some days that would have been an inspiring thought, something that she told the students to lift their spirits. Something that she could tell herself when she read a story in the paper, or saw an interview on the news.

Today was not one of those days.