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Sinister Intentions; {Jean, Rosie and Scott}
Topic Started: Sep 5 2008, 06:48 AM (938 Views)
Mr Sinister
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Date: August 31'st.
Time Of Day: 4:00 PM.

[align=center]:: :: ::[/align]

[align=center]Behold the great Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Nathaniel Essex stood before the mansion, the gates behind him. "For too long I have been denied the privilege of approaching this great manor...and those inside it," he muttered in awe. And true it was. The light cast a shadow upon Essex, his red pupils gleaming. He took a few steps forward, fixing his black suit and dusting his pants. "As Mr Franklin said, 'If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality'..."

Essex placed his feet on the porch, his fingers pressing against the doorbell. "...and waste time I will not," he added. Nothing. The silence of the air struck a chord. Surely the mansion couldn't be empty, of all times like this. The sound of footsteps beyond the door eased his nerves, Essex once more making his appearance presentable. He would want to know as much about the couple of Jean and Scott before his true form could be discovered. And then would he allow the pleasure of presenting his power to them. Essex thought of that as a welcoming gift. What better gift is there than pain and a nagging urge to uncover something. Pain and Temptation.

He rang the doorbell once more, demanding attention from anyone. "Does this school teach anything about manners?" he scoffed.[/align]
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Cyclops
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Scott had been grading tests in his office, and frankly he wondered how these students could forget all the essentials of basic algebra after so short a summer... granted, there was a part of him that realized that last year's final semester had ended abruptly because of the evens of ShadowX, as he had allowed the school to slip into militaristic domination and scholastic mundanity had fallen by the wayside. But still in Elementary algebra the properties of operations on the real number system did not change. Symbols were still used as "place holders" to denote constants and variables, and the rules governing mathematical expressions and equations involving these symbols were the same after ShadowX as they had been before it. It was like pulling teeth to get them to concentrate.

The doorbell rang and that was a bit irritating. After all, there should have been some warning at the gate. Clicking on an icon on his computer, the monitor switched to live camera feed of the main gates and he frowned. Someone had left them wide open, obviously neglecting to close them as they motored off to the mall or the coffee shop or where they were headed. Teenagers. Honestly. He hadn't been that irresponsible when he was one... of course, he had never been accused of being a typical teenager, a fact people like Warren and Jon and Mina had relished in pointing out to him.

He got up and left his office as the bell rang again, impatiently. He rolled his eyes behind his scarlet lenses and muttered, "I am coming, I'm coming." He wondered who it could be. After all, parents and visitors to the school weren't allowed without prior notification, since it would 'distrupt the learning environment' and no student would bother to ring the doorbell. Hopefully it was just some passerby lost in the secluded area the school was in, or at very most a delivery from home for one of the children.

He opened the door, and found instead a dark haired, dark suited, rather put out looking older gentleman, "Excuse the wait, sir. It's Sunday, the staff makes themselves scarce, leaving me to do all the work, including, apparently, doorman's duty. Is there something I can do for you today, sir?"
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Mr Sinister
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[align=center]The voice of an approaching person caused Essex to fix his attention upon the door. Finally, someone had come. The door opened and Essex waited to see his receiver. It was a man. Late twenty's seemingly with brown hair. But what made Essex cast his glance upon the man's face was one extra feature. Sun-Glasses. More specifically, ruby-quartz glasses. This was the one. "Summers..." he whispered under his breath. But where was his spouse? The matter of that would be looked upon later, for now, he had one mutant to worry upon.

"My apologies if I'm interrupting, but I've been sent here to inspect the Institute's Grounds." He caught a detailed yet quick glimpse of Summer's clothing. It had seemed that, by comparison, Essex was donned in a more formal manner. His entire black suit that flapped with the wind against his waist, along with his black pants that moved along with each step of his leather shoes against the ground, was nothing casual as Summer's was. Perhaps, he would have to consider something more appropriate, for both the occasion and his age.

Transferring his attention to his surroundings, he gazed upon the inside of the Mansion. Photos hung from the walls and brown floorboards covered the entire floor. How comfortable. He reminded himself of his goal and that he was barely past the first stage: Getting In. He turned his head back onto Summers.

"May I come in?"[/align]
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Cyclops
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Not one to be extremely astute in his reading of facial expression, the normal indicators of color change and subtleties of minute changes in eye and mouth position difficult for him to read, Scott Grey-Summers might have missed the slight reaction to his appearance if not for the faint sound of his name whispered. Tonal qualities were too faint to be read, but the man's next words suggested that perhaps he was merely trying to remember Scott's name, told of his identity by whoever his superiors were before being dispatched here. Scott, however, was not about to let a stranger into the school simply because he said he wanted in. There were too many things about this school that made carelessness very ill advised.

"Excuse me, sir, but who exactly sent you and why?" Scott asked, "Do you have some sort of paperwork or badge or something that I can see? I'm afraid this school houses a good number of young people and we have security messages to make sure that they're safe. You understand my caution, don't you?"

The stranger craned his neck over Scott's shoulder to peer in the mansion in a way that Scott was not entirely convinced was mere curiosity. He put his hand out, pushing lightly on the man's shoulder to nudge him backwards, as he stepped out of the mansion to join him on the front porch. Scott shut the door behind him and said, "Which agency are you from, sir, and what exactly do you want to inspect? Have there been concerns or complaints that I should be aware of, Mr..." He let the sentence hang on the question of the man's name.

He did not offer his own yet.
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Mr Sinister
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[align=center]The faint look on Essex's face was not a pleasant one. He had underestimated Summer's suspicion and care for the Institute. A fatal mistake, one Essex planned never to have again. "Of course I do," he replied in a snarl. He was politely pushed back, most likely this was provoked by his inspection of the Institute. Perhaps talk was less helpful in his goal. Maybe violence did solve everything. But for now, Essex would not strike out either option. Perhaps talking then violence. The work of compromising.

He smiled at Summer's attempting to catch his name, something he chose last to provide. "Essex. Mr Nathaniel Essex," he continued from Summers. "And as for my agency..." he began, reaching into his coat. If Summers suspicion didn't go too far, he could at least get somethings out of him. "...I'm from the Local Education Council," he added, flashing his badge. True, it was forged, but this one wouldn't know the difference.

He peered around, behind him and Summers, as if implying that he were looking for someone or making sure no-one was there. "I was also hoping that I could also speak to you and Ms Jean Grey."

That, he could possibly have left out. Curiosity of how Essex knew of his wife would take hold of Summers. "Unless you need more proof that I'm a real...well human," he chuckled with a smirk.

And if you looked closely, you would faintly see the crimson gleam of Essex's eye.[/align]
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Cyclops
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Essex, was it, did not like to be questioned. That much was very clear. He flashed a badge so quickly that he was either very incensed... or he was attempting to hide something. Scott reached backwards over the telepathic rapport he had with his wife and said, telepathically, ::Jean, honey, can you come to the front door? We have an unexpected visitor and I am not so certain that he is what he says. Something about him...::

Turning his attention back to Essex so smoothly that it would not have been apparent that it had shifted, Scott said, "Forgive me, Mr. Essex, but you have to understand the nature of this school. Many of our students have come to us after being mistreated and misused. This school is their last hope of safety and a normal life. We comply with every state regulation, and are regularly inspected by both representatives of the State Board of Education, and of Child Welfare. Those inspections have turned up nothing at all improper, and haven't for the past fifteen years since I was chosen to be the first student of this school. So, this surprise visit of yours gives me a great cause for concern, as does your referring to my wife by her maiden name, which suggests to me that your information is out of date."

He noticed Essex's odd terminology referring to himself as a real human, though the gleam in his eye was entirely missed due to Scott's problem with color vision, everything appearing to be shades of red. "Mr. Essex, do you know what kind of school this is? What sort of students we have here?"
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Rosie
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It wasn't often that visitors rang the doorbell. Entirely curious, Rosie abandoned her stuffed toys in the student rec room and moved to the second floor landing, peering down between the railings. She could just barely see her father, moving forward in the doorway just a little bit, but the man beyond him was unclear from that angle.

In a decision that took approximately half a second to make, Rosie made her way carefully down the stairs, holding on to the railing for dear life until she reached the slick wooden flooring. She yanked on her dress, tugging it lower over her jeans -- her mother had let her dress herself that morning -- before she moved to wiggle in between her father's side and the wall.

"Papa?" Rosie chirped, craning her head back to look at him before she turned to face the stranger. He was tall -- well, everyone was tall to her -- but there was something about him that made the little girl shrink back, hands burying themselves in the material of Scott's pants.

Whoever this was, he reminded her uncomfortably of her genetic parents, and the thought made Rosie shiver. "Papa, what's goin' on?" She asked in a voice barely over a whisper. She didn't offer a name to the stranger, realizing in a moment of clarity that this was one of the strangers that her parents had warned her about. "Miss Rahne wants ta see ya."

This was an outright lie, but anything to get her papa from this spooky man. Rosie watched him with her wide mismatched eyes, one hand moving to her inhibitor charm bracelet. One wrong move, and he would fly, or so she told herself.
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Mr Sinister
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[align=center]Perhaps violence should be ensued right about now. He clenched his fists behind his back and smiled at Summers. "I have my guesses," he replied, eyes moving up. He caught a glimpse of a girl who looked straight back at him. She was not like any other child. Then again, nor was anyone else at the Institute, but she was very special. Perhaps his 'list' had to be updated again. Turning back to Summers he kept his smile. And with swift timing, he entered Summer's head. {'Of course I know what the students, you, are'} he whispered in Summer's head. Of course, he didn't give away that he was the man who said it, but just simply implied that there was more to him that met the eye.

The momentary silence was broken and the faint footsteps of another. It was the child. And only when she referred to Summers as 'Papa' did Essex rekindle his interest in her. He chuckled at her suspicious yet frightened expression that his face provoked. "A beautiful child you have there Mr Summers," Essex commented with a smirk.

He faced Summers, his mood immediately growing cold. "If I cannot inspect, could I have the talk I previously stated?" Essex questioned.

Once again, his attention was drawn back to the child, then Summers. "Wouldn't it be a pity if she was suddenly...taken away?"[/align]
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Jean
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Waves of thought lifted the heavy branch into the air and crack, the sound of splintering wood echoed through the woods behind the mansion. Crack – crack - crack, soon the branch felled by the heavy winds from the previous night’s storm was snapped into more reasonable chunks. Jean stood not far away, her concentration focused on the wood as she tore it apart. It wasn’t a challenging exercise but unlike Danger Room exercises, this one had an outcome other than making her sweaty and tired.

She still had more to do when Scott’s words suddenly echoed through her mind. She heard the concern in his voice but nothing remotely approaching fear or anger. Probably… what? she thought to herself as she walked back to the mansion, her splintered logs floating behind her, trailing her like ducklings. A lawyer from a parent? The police? SHIELD? A government agent? The possibilities emerged one after another, although, it was a futile speculation; they didn’t have enough information. Then, she felt it; the intrusion of another mind into Scott’s and Jean too heard the stranger’s words.

The logs fell discarded to the ground and Jean took to the air in one fluid motion. She sped over the distance between her and mansion in mere moments. A stranger using telepathy on Scott made her heart race in fear. It also lit a fire of anger in the pit of her stomach; the words ‘how dare he’ spitting flames. She rounded the corner of the mansion and extended her mind around Scott and Rosie, hardening her thoughts into a barrier around them.

“We have rules here about the use of telepathy. You seem to lack any handicap that would make that necessary as your only method of communicating,” she told him coolly, advancing on the trio. The irony that she herself frequently sent telepathic messages around the school wasn’t a double-standard she chose to dwell on.

“Thankfully, she won’t be taken away,” she said with a challenging lift of her eyebrow. In the back on her mind, she wondered if the stranger was deliberately provoking her: going into Scott’s mind, then saying something sounded suspiciously like a veiled threat in regard to Rosie. He’d found her raw nerves and was thoughtlessly strumming them.

“We’re both here now,” she left the unspoken rider, so what do you want, spinning in the air between them.
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Cyclops
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Rosie showed up, and instantly felt the strangeness of this man, cowering behind Scott in uncharacteristic shyness. She clung to his pant leg and boldly lied to get her papa away from him. Scott reached back and rested his hand on the little girl's head, in a comforting gesture that was very telling. "Thank you, Rosebud," he said, in the gentle voice of a father promising his daughter that there were no monsters in her closet. "Why don't you head on inside and go and tell Miss Rahne that Papa is on his way as soon as he deals with our... guest."

The man showed his true nature then as he spoke in Scott's head telepathically. Instantly, Scott felt the barriers that Jean erected in the minds of those she'd loved, flare into life, and his suspicious were confirmed, as he felt her own anger course through their rapport. She was not just concerned, she was angry that someone dared to dip their mental fingers in the mind of her husbands. He loved her so much when she came tearing into conflicts with a raised fist, and a righteous protectiveness, a mother lion protecting her cubs. With her keen understanding of human nature, and a power formidable enough to back her up when words were not enough, Scott knew very well the woman he married, knew that where his controlled tactics failed, her fiery temper and sharp bite would succeed.

"Mr. Essex, my wife Jean," Scott introduced, as if both parties had not already figured this out. "He says he is from a local education council, but I think it is not a mistake for me to say he is something more than a happenstance visitor."
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Mr Sinister
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[align=center]Essex's masquerade had lasted long enough. Now, both Grey and Summers were here, along with their adopted child, which Essex considered a bonus. How rewarding.

"I was wondering when your suspicion would be verified, I was beginning to doubt my expectations of your intelligence," Essex commented with a smile. Of course, they would do everything in their power to wipe his smile of his face. Or whatever heroes said nowadays.

He nodded to Grey, tapping his head with his index finger, as if taunting of his equal powers to her. "Just. Like. You." With that, the former black suited man morphed into something far more frightening. Essex's cream skin turned a ghostly white. His eyes became a solid red and his lips a jet black. His clothing dematerialized, changing into his superior black, metallic-like uniform. A cape grew upon his back.

The last addition to his change was the wide smirk that spread across his face. "Perhaps you could look me up sometime, my name, is Mister Sinister..." he said, introducing himself with a polite bow. "...and I will be your family's shadow for the years to come."

He raised his arm in the air and flicked his hand to the side. The gates behind them slammed shut, the bars in the middle becoming entwined. Drifting back, he began levitating in the air.

"The school will never be safe from the likes of me Summers!" he yelled, making sure his voice extended to the ears of those below. He began wondering if the students inside the Mansion saw him. No matter. With a swish of his hand, the door to the Mansion slammed shut, becoming a barricade between Jean and Scott and Rosie. "Let's see what Xavier has taught you eh?"[/align]
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Rosie
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Her papa understood. It meant more to Rosie than the world that he didn't ignore her feelings, and knew what was going on. She could hear the double meaning in his words, could hear the fact that he was always going to protect her from harm and strangers. Briefly the little girl leaned into Scott's hand, affectionate, but as she turned to edge back inside the softly-spoken words reached her ears.

"Wouldn't it be a pity if she was suddenly...taken away?"

Her breath froze, limbs going tight in fear as Rosie turned to stare at the man. He was going to take her? But...no, that wasn't possible. Her parents had promised her, pinky-swore and everything, that she would always stay with them. Hot tears building in the back of her eyes, Rosie lifted her chin stubbornly, managing a sharp "NO!".

As if on cue, her mother showed up, and Rosie knew that neither of them would let this stranger do anything bad on the grounds if they were there. She squeaked very softly, "Mama!", feeling the telepathic barriers that she had grown used to slide gently around her mind, protecting it. Easily, Rosie sent out a telepathic message to her mother. He's bad, Mama. Scary 'n' bad.

Again, her plans on edging back inside were thwarted when Sinister began changing. It took Rosie a moment to realize it, then she was cowering back against a door that was suddenly barricaded. He was a bad guy, a monster, her mind whispered, and one hand moved automatically to her bracelet. She was allowed to use her powers when she needed to, her mama and papa had told her, so now she undid the clasp of the dainty-looking inhibitor bracelet and let the faux-jewellery slide to the ground.

"Go 'way!" Rosie shouted, the wind whipping her words away practically before they were out of her mouth. She thrust her hands at the air, sending a harsh telekinetic surge his way.
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Jean
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JP Scott and Jean


The stranger changed and lashed out of his powers - closing the gate, which hardly mattered, and slamming the door shut. For a split second Jean suddenly panicked, Rosie had been inching toward the door and for one unfathomably long moment she was afraid the baby might’ve gotten crushed. The telepathic wave Rosie sent was a relief, she was not only alive but getting angry.

:: Rosie, good girl. Stay with papa. :: To Scott she said, :: Cyclops :: Nothing more needed to be said, working together had always put them on the top of their game.

Aloud she said, “Oh look Scott, KISS is getting back together and they’ve already got a new member. At least now god-awful Gene Simmons show will stop now.” Banter, not only did it take the wind out of your opponents sails but also gave Scott time to think.

She rose into the air as easily as he had done. “Our family’s shadow,” she picked up the phrase he used and threw it back at him, “if you know us, then you already know that you’ll have to take a number… behind Magneto, behind the Brotherhood, behind the Sentinels, behind the Friends of Humanity. You are, frankly, just one among the crowd.”

The stranger's taunts and display of power were neither surprising nor unusual, though they were... oddly familiar to Scott, like something out of a long forgotten dream... He had no time to consider it, though, no time to delve through the carefully placed memories into the mental file cabinets he maintained so completely perfectly organized. Jean was telepathically calling for him to battle, and his four year old daughter was lashing out in fear and courage all in one tiny blast of telekinesis. With only his glasses and not his visor, Scott's powers were at minimal control, only the width to which he opened his eyes dictating the shape and strength of his beams, but his hand came to the frames of his glasses just the same, one eye closing to minimize the spread of the concussive force that would be unleashed. It should have hampered his depth perception, but if Scott Grey-Summers was anything, he was trained and he'd learned how to use his powers in everyway that was possible to learn. But, he didn't lift his glasses, not yet. Jean countered the self proclaimed Sinister's display with one of her own, refuted his posturing with disdain and the fire that had drawn Scott to her even back when they were lonely and lost teenagers, and he put his hand out on Rosie's shoulder to let her know that this was handled. "You see we're not just sitting ducks here, Sinister. You wanted a talk and instead you threaten and terrorize? As my wife said, this is just day to day for us." As he talked he moved into position subtly. He was certain that this man was prepared for their powers... but being resistant to his optic blasts, didn't mean being immune to them. Either way, this would hurt Sinister a hell of a lot more than it would hurt Scott.

“Test us?” she said, her voice laced with a combination of boredom and contempt. However, his actions did worry her and implied a self-confidence that many of their enemies didn’t have; most of them picking on the weak and helpless and then scuttling back into the shadows like cockroaches when they saw the X-Men arrive. Regardless of her bravado, his boldness made Sinister dangerous. “I assure you, you have situation reversed.”

With Scott moving, his hand reaching for his glasses, Jean strengthened her bond with Scott and guided his limited vision. Her thoughts reached out to grab the stranger, intent on holding him still for her husband.

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Mr Sinister
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[align=center]The surge did nothing. "How cute, it seems that in time, she took on some of your personality traits," Sinister yelled to Summers. By now, Grey would have captured all her rage into one blast. And he would not stand by and let himself get hit like a lifeless ragdoll. "Does it look like I care for your futile retorts, those words are spoken by a woman who fears for both her and her family's safety!" he replied back to her KISS insult.

"And you have the right to fear me..." he added. He flung his arms outwards, concentrating on the Mansion. And slowly, numerous tiles from the Mansion's roof began flying towards him, until he was surrounded by a circle shield of tiles. He snapped his attention back to Jean at the thought of other mutants. "Magneto!? The Sentinels!? They are NOTHING compared to me! I have walked the earth since the 19'th century woman, I have seen the Nazis slay Jews. I have witnessed many wars that you barely heard of!" Sinister spat. How dare the woman compare him to those insolent mongrels.

"Really? The situation at hand seems to be going my way, have you not noticed the power surging up inside you?" he chuckled.

He ceased his talk as he caught a glimpse of Summers, preparing to unleash his fury. But before he could fling Summers like a toy around the court, he was stopped in position. Grey.

She was holding him with her powers. "I will not let you ruin my plans Grey..." he muttered. And with that, he struck Jean mentally with a heavy telepathic blast. But what he had next would be the most startling to both Jean and Scott. With his mind...

...he reached out to Rosie.[/align]
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Rosie
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[OOC: Please let me know if this is okay...I had to guess...]

Tucked safely between her parents, Rosie squeaked in alarm as the roof tiles began detaching, fying towards Sinister to make a shield. She flung her powers outward again and again, hoping to budge the tiles and hopefully hit the man within them, but she was too weak and it only tired her.

She wanted to go inside and be safe again, but it wasn't going at all the way she thought. Rosie wanted her father to let loose all of his power and get rid of this scary man, but she knew deep down that it wasn't like that at all. The little girl let loose with another attack, the force of it nearly knocking her down on her rear as she pushed at the air.

Yet the very next second, something changed. A presence was suddenly forcing itself harshly into her mind, crumbling the shields that Rosie could barely hold up, until the little girl was holding her head and crying out in pain. Children's minds were fragile things, and telepathics had to take care to enter gently -- otherwise, damage would be done.

"Mama!" She cried, fists clenching as blood poured from her nose. Rosie sat on the stoop dizzily, fighting to keep a glare at Sinister but losing it. Hurts!
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