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| One Year Passed; [Rosie, Open] | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 14 2008, 03:55 AM (225 Views) | |
| Rosie | Sep 14 2008, 03:55 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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Time of Day: Three in the afternoon Place in the Time-Line: Wednesday, September 17th, exactly one year after Rosie was left at the mansion. It had been one year to the day when Rosie had first come to the mansion. The little girl sat on the front stoop with her head in her hands, looking out beyond the driveway to the closed gates. So much had changed in such a relatively little bit of time, though it felt like an entire lifetime to Rosie. Clad in her favorite overalls with the bunny sewn on the front, the little girl stretched her legs out and picked at the pants' hem, though her attention was really on the gate. She wasn't even sure anyone realized, but she knew beyond doubt that today was exactly one year from that terrible, and yet wonderful, day. Yes, technically she was skipping class -- Rosie sure was turning out to be a trouble-maker, all sarcasm intended -- but the little girl figured that for once she couldn't stand being cooped up in the classroom. Too many thoughts were rushing through her head, making her fidgety and slightly listless. "Papa." She said aloud, hardly aware that she was saying it. Just staring at the gates, Rosie could remember being pulled from the horrible box by Ari, and then being comforted by her new papa. The thought gave her chills, and she wasn't even sure that she could even approach the gates (or a regular cardboard box) again. There were too many bad memories there, so the little girl just sat and stared hard, concentrating. "Mama." The overalls that her mother had been wearing that had been covered in clay and paint; the macaroni and cheese flying across the room. Rosie's face crumbled with tears, out of an intense emotion that had little to do with fear or anger. |
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| Jean | Sep 19 2008, 07:47 AM Post #2 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
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Jean and Scot JP Jean heard the soft mewlings of Rosie’s mind and gently leaned back in her chair. Rosie was… not really fussy but out of sorts. She focused on Rosie’s mind and the little girl’s thoughts floated through the air to her. One year anniversary. Had it been a year already? Sometimes it seemed a lot longer and other times like she’d just arrived. Surely, this day was just as important as her birthday or Christmas, it some ways more important – her new life began, she could’ve died in that box. The unwelcome thought brought Alex and Lorna to mind and she closed her eyes. Reaching out with her mind, she lightly brushed Scott’s mind. Since Alex’s death… she stopped the thought and swept it away. Personally, she thought the couple was dead but Scott didn’t. She hoped she wrong but she wasn’t going to push the issue. :: Darling, Rosie is feeling very,:: she paused to search for the right words, :: not sad but… overwhelmed. We found her a year ago today. I think we should go out… and celebrate. :: In his office, Scott had been attempting to do what it was he always did when there was more on his mind and in his heart than he was able to cope with-- bury himself in work, as if developing some new update for the Blackbird, or recruiting some new mutant, would bring him peace. Of course, there was not a person who knew him who believed that peace was what he was seeking in these moments. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. He was waging war, even by doing good, Scott, in his grieving and miserable times, was fighting an unjust world and trying to make something right. If not for him, than for anyone else in proxy. But there were times when there was simply too much to bear, and he had been home only a few days after his exhaustive search of the area around where his brother and Lorna had vanished, so eventually, he had reclined in his office chair, his feet up on the other seat in the room, closing his eyes to stave off his growing headache. Jean's mental summons woke him up from the light doze. He hadn't known he had fallen into and he shook off the grogginess before thinking:: I'm not really in a celebr-- *sigh*-- It's an important day for her. You're right. We should go out.:: He got up, and headed out to meet Jean in the foyer before they went out together to get their daughter, remembering so very clearly the over heated and terrified child that Ari had pulled from a box that traumatic day a year ago. Who had ever known that Rosie the 'bad girl' with her whooshes would make such a difference in their lives? She felt the automatic negative reply but was glad he’d reconsidered. Most people wouldn’t have seen it as Scott came out to meet her, but he was haggard. Silently, she held out her hand for him to take, the subtle and non-verbal gesture was usually as publicly affectionate as they got. “Thanks,” she said as they linked hands and went outside to comfort their little one. Rosie was sitting on the porch, staring at the front gates. “Rosie,” she said and opened her arms for a hug. “We’re going out tonight to celebrate the day you came. Won’t that be fun?” Jean held out her hand, and Scott looked at her for a moment, their eyes meeting somehow even through the opaque red lenses of his glasses, something that very few people managed-- Jean, Warren... Alex... ::I'm ok:: he told her, not because she asked, but because she needed to know. They walked out together to where Rosie was sitting on the porch, her little face troubled. Jean offered a hug and Scott wished for a moment that he was able to be so open and affectionate. Maybe it would have helped him in his life. He wasn't like that though. So, he left the cuddles for Jean, and instead he was the stalwart, the stoic... "It's a very important day, Rosie. Your Mama and I are very happy you found your way to us." |
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| Rosie | Sep 20 2008, 04:21 PM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Staring out at the gate, Rosie wondered just how many things had changed since she'd come. She had a new mama and papa, a new uncle -- here she bit her lower lip, a horrible feeling of foreboding blossoming in her stomach; something was going on there that no one around the mansion was really telling her -- and scores of new brothers and sisters. She had turned lucky in the short span of time that it had taken Ari to cut the box open and lift her out. Two very familiar voices from behind her head made her pause. Rosie was not telepathic, nor empathic, but she could always sense when her parents were near, much like any other child. The little girl turned, wiping her face on her sleeve. She was a big girl now, right? No crying for her. But when her mother opened her arms for a hug, and her father stood there, stoic as ever, the tears came again. Rosie scrambled to her feet, rushing to enfold herself in her mother's arms. She didn't question Scott's decision to remain quiet and stoic; to her, it showed just as much emotion as Jean's soft words and cuddles, and she smiled up at him once her tears had slowed. "A year." She whispered to them, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to their ears, as though she were imparting a great secret. "You're my mama and papa for a year!" The thought gave her shivers. She wanted to always be with them. Yet honestly, Rosie didn't know exactly how she should feel about this day. In part, it was a painful reminder of what had happened, and she hated thinking back to her birth parents. Yet another part whispered that it meant that she would always be a Grey-Summers. Maybe she liked the idea of going out and making new memories for the day. "Okay.." Rosie nodded, rubbing at her eyes with one hand while reaching for her papa's hand with the other. She knew what his limits were, and how to respect them. Here she paused. The thought had come up that Alex and Lorna could come...but they weren't here, were they? "Where're Alex 'n' Auntie Lorna?" Rosie asked, looking to her parents straight in the eyes. "They...they can't come, right?" She dreaded the answer. |
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| Jean | Sep 21 2008, 03:11 AM Post #4 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
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Just like a cat who had an unerring ability to make a bee-line for the one person in the room who didn’t like cats and rub against their legs purring; Rosie had the ability to innocently wander into territory Jean wished she hadn’t gone. She took Rosie’s hand, letting her walk between her and Scott on their way to the car. “No, sweetie, they can’t come. Remember that trip papa just came back from?” Scott had only been home for three days, more quiet and distant than normal, but that was to be expected. “He was out looking for Alex and Lorna. They’re lost,” she said but kept her tone light, as though there was nothing to worry about, “but that only means that we don’t know where they are, I’m sure they don’t think they’re lost and are trying very hard to get home again.” She reached down and ran her fingers through Rosie’s fine hair. “We’re still looking and as soon as we see any sign of them, we’ll let you know, sweetheart.” Jean knew they would have to tell her soon, later this week or next week at the latest. :: Scott:: She turned and looked at him over Rosie’s head. :: I heard some of the others talking about a memorial service for Alex and Lorna. Rosie’ll have to know soon, but it shouldn’t be today, of all days. And she’s too fragile as it is. :: Scott still had hope, as did some others, that the couple would be found alive but discovering Alex’s heart monitor that been the clincher for Jean. Even if they could survive in the middle of the ocean, Alex couldn’t survive without the monitor. “You just remember that the Summers are a strong family and they don’t give up.” |
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| Cyclops | Sep 21 2008, 04:54 AM Post #5 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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Rosie asked about Alex and Lorna and Scott had no answer for her. Jean's would have to suffice, whether or not the little girl understood it, or was satisfied by it couldn't be helped. This was a situation beyond understanding. This was a situation that had no satisfying answers. Jean spoke of finding them, of them finding their way home, and then immediately turned it around and spoke in his head of memorial services. He shook his head, just once, over Rosie's head and thought, ::No. I'm not holding a memorial service for someone who isn't dead. End of subject, please.:: He turned and picked Rosie up, snuggling her in his arms in not, perhaps the most cuddly of fashions, but enough that it was an affirmation of their life and not this illusion of death. Scott was not spiritual, never had been. He was a protestant by birth, as his parents had been, but outside of Christmas and Easter, they had hardly ever attended Church. If Scott was to give a lecture on what he believed in, what faith he held, his words would turn to the philosophies that Charles had taught him, and God was not really a part of that. He was not excluded, but He was not.... significant in Scott's life. He couldn't pray for his brother or explore the philosophical implications of loss and death, particularly not with a four year old. And he would not discuss it with his wife, even if he knew she would understand. "I guess you are just stuck with us, Rosebud," Scott said, forcing a smile and almost succeeding. "Where would you like to eat?" |
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2:52 PM Jul 11