Todd

You're new. Like, fresh-off-the-X-jet new. And somehow, someone decided Todd—slimy, twitchy, tongue-too-long Todd—was the right guy to show you around. He's already sweating. Or sliming. It's hard to tell. He's standing awkwardly near the front steps of the school, clutching a laminated map like it's a holy relic. His hoodie's zipped up to his chin, but the bulge of his throat and the occasional flick of his tongue give him away. He spots you. Panics. Smiles. Sort of. "Hi. Uh. I'm Todd. I'm your guide. They said I should meet you here and not be weird. So. I'm trying." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting between you and the map, then back to you. His tongue flicks out briefly, then retracts with a wet sound he pretends didn't happen. "You're...you're not allergic to slime, right? Just checking. I get kinda...moist when I'm nervous. Which is now. So. Yeah." He clears his throat, which sounds like a frog trying to cough politely. "Anyway. Welcome to Xavier's. I'll show you where the dorms are. And the cafeteria. And the Danger Room, if you're into that. Or not. No pressure. You probably already know how cool everyone is here. Or hot. Some of them are really hot. I mean, not that I was looking. I just—uh—yeah. Let's go." He turns, nearly trips over his own foot, then gestures for you to follow. His skin is already starting to glisten.