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Storytime for; [Rosie, Scott]
Topic Started: Nov 13 2008, 04:12 AM (194 Views)
Rosie
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Time of Day: Around two in the afternoon
Place in the Time-Line: November 7th, a few days before the team leaves on the rescue.


Rosie was supposed to be napping. Well, obviously, she wasn't. The little girl was too keyed up to go to sleep, and so she spent the first ten minutes lying in her bed, prodding her airplane mobile with her powers to make it move.

Finally, wondering miserably if her papa was still in the suite living room, Rosie sat up and grabbed her copy of Pokey the Puppy. Her father had seemed stressed lately, so she figured that he would appreciate a good book.

And it helped that she could snuggle with him.

"Papa?" Rosie ventured into the living room, hardbound book under one arm and Mandark under the other. She approached the couch where Scott lay, bare feet making no noise on the carpet until she crawled onto the furniture and sat down near his head. "Papa, you want a story?"

As always, it was more for her own comfort than her father's, but at least she could try. After a second, Rosie opened the book and skipped the copyright information to go straight to the story.

And who cared if she couldn't even read? Rosie had heard the story so many times that she knew it by heart, anyway.
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Cyclops
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There was a lot of things that had to be done before the trip to the Savage Land. He'd tested the portal generator today, and with the mild side effect of a head, it worked fine. He had returned whole and solid and in one piece, so he'd done it. It made him extremely happy that he had figured it out, a hard road to this point, but Scott had never been afraid of a puzzle.

But, as mentioned, it had given him a headache, beyond the one that he usually had from the incessant pounding from his powers behind his eyes. thumping thumping nonstop against his glasses, cycling back into his eyes, an irritating and grating loop of unending pain, that he had long ago grown accustomed to and was able to ignore... unless there were other other pains added on top of it. So, uncharacteristic for Scott, he had volunteered to sit with Rosie during her nap time, on the pretense that he was going to figure out a supply list for what was needed for the trip, instead, putting her down in her bed, and stretching out on the couch, his glasses on instead of the sleep visor so that he could convince himself that he was not taking a nap, but just resting his tired eyes for a moment.

Rosie's little padded feet made no noise, but Scott was used to living his life in a state of readiness. He was aware of her presence, even before she climbed up onto the couch, her book and her duck in tow. She asked him if he wanted a story, and though he would rather have a nap, he couldn't ever deny her. She'd become a huge part of his life in her year here, and while he was not the most fun Papa, and while he was maybe a little stiff, she meant the world to him, and he couldn't imagine not having her here.

"A story, Rosebud?" he murmured, not opening his eyes behind his lenses. "Ok, one story then you can lay down with me and we'll take a little nap before dinner so that Mama doesn't get mad."
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Rosie
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He was tired, and he didn't even open his eyes, but Rosie didn't blame him. Sometimes, when she was really tired, she couldn't open her eyes either. So the little girl settled back against the couch cushions, arranged Mandark on the couch arm, and squinted at the first page.

"Once 'pon a time, there were puppies." She began, tracing the image of the puppies on the hill with her forefinger. "And they got under the fence -- with their powers -- even though they weren't 'posed to." Rosie obviously wasn't bothered with expanding the story just a little. After all, what was better than mutant puppies? Absolutely nothing.

Tilting the book briefly so that her father could see the pictures like Miss Rahne did at storytime, even though his eyes were still closed, Rosie waited a second and then turned the page. "One've the puppies was Poky, guess because he poked stuff." Rosie thought about it briefly and shrugged it off. "But he and his brother's 'n' sisters went every day 'cross the fence, but their mama told them not to."

She frowned a little, not liking the idea of disobeying so flagrantly. "But one day, the puppies flew back home -- that one has wings," Rosie pointed -- and their mama caught them, 'cept Poky 'cause he was last."

The little girl turned the page and saw the mother dog looking sternly down at the puppies. "The mama had mind power, an' she could see everythin'. Here Rosie paused, looking anxiously to her father, wondering if she was telling the story right.
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Cyclops
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Scott smiled as the Poky Little Puppy and his family became mutants, the Mama and one of the brothers having very familiar powers. It was a silly little thing from an imaginative little girl, perhaps, but it was an important thing to note from Rosie. She had, after all, come here with the belief that she was a bad girl for having powers, that it was something to fear, to be ashamed of. She was growing up, and growing up happy now, realizing that the genetic gifts that she'd been given were not wrong, and not evil. It was important for her, and Scott shuddered to think what would have happened if the Johannsons had regained custody over her, or even worse if Ari had not found the box she'd been left in time.

He adjusted his position on the couch, rolling over onto his side, and crooking himself up so he could see the picture she was showing him. Poky Puppies Mama looking very concerned for her little babies.

Rosie had paused in her story, and Scott felt she was asking for some interaction perhaps. "Hmmm, Mama looks very worried," he said, "I wonder if all Mamas are so scared when their babies wander off. I'd sure not want to make my mama worried like that."

It wasn't a lecture, exactly, and it was definitely not said in a reproving or stern tone, but maybe she'd sort of pick up the subtext behind it. He laid his head back against the couch, resting his head against hers so they could look at the book together. "Keep going, I want to see if Mama finds her babies."
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Rosie
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Rosie turned her head when her father resettled himself, beaming at him and nuzzling his cheek. She shifted the book so that he might look at it easier, tracing the face of Poky's mama with one fingertip.

"She's real worried, even when they came back." The little girl murmured, dropping her voice as though she were telling a secret. Her tone was that of entire sadness, knowing what it was like to make her own mother worried. Lips quivering, Rosie leaned back against her father, not wanting him to be sad either. Quickly she turned the page so that she might alleviate the sadness of the mother.

"An' then Poky's mama told them that they couldn' have dessert. 'No dessert!'," Here Rosie altered her voice, making it the high-pitched voice of a puppy mama. "'cause you were bad! And go to bed!'. But Poky snuck in, so he wasn' in trouble, and he got dessert. Mmmm...'nana pudding!"

It was supposed to be rice pudding, but Rosie didn't like rice pudding. It was her story, anyway. She pointed at the picture of the puppies all snuggled together unhappily, no dessert in their tummies, while Poky ate his dessert triumphantly on the other side of the page. Over them all, the mother stood guard, making sure that her puppies weren't lost again.

Rosie paused again, looking to her father. "D'ya think they go back?" She asked rhetorically -- of course Rosie knew, but Rahne would always ask questions before she turned the page and she figured that she would play teacher now. "And what'll his mama do?"
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Cyclops
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Scott smiled at her question and said, "Hmmm, I think they'll go back because sometimes baby puppies don't always do what they are supposed to." He snuggled against her, "Mama will probably get mad, but only because she is worried. Mamas and Papas don't stay mad very often at their babies. They love them too much."

If anyone saw Scott with his daughter here, they might find it strange. He was not the stern and strict X-Man, the dry as dirt math teacher, the disciplinarian. He wasn't a snuggly daddy with candy in his pockets and cute little pet names for his little girl. He probably didn't smile enough, probably didn't play enough, but when he did, it was with as much devotion as a man like him was capable of demonstrating. And, it was with completely genuine love. Lots of people thought he was emotionless, and would be surprised to know how much he really did feel.

He watched Rosie as she went back to the book, wondering if she had any idea how much he loved her. He was probably never going to be able to actual say it, even to a very little girl. But the people who he loved and who loved him back always seemed to know even if the words didn't come so easy-- Charles had known, Jean surely had no doubts, Warren... Alex...

He hoped she knew, hoped she knew how happy she made him. A chance for a real life, a hope for a future beyond just the fight and the struggle, a symbol of hope and maybe an opportunity to have a connection that he'd longed for so very long... to be a father, no... no, to be a Papa, and maybe someday a grandpa... a normal family like any other.
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Rosie
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There was no doubt in Rosie's mind that her father loved her. Absolutely none. From day one, when he had taken her from Ari carefully and let her sob in his arms from the fright of being taped in a box, she knew him. Other people might call him a prude, or stodgy, a stick in the mud who could not express emotion. Rosie knew better. Though the little girl had not developed any telepathy, she could see every moment that he loved her.

And that had been her saving grace. What would have happened, if he and the others had not found her? If she had been lost in the system, or worst of all dead? Rosie didn't like to think about it; there were too many complicated thoughts and emotions there, and wasn't it enough that she was with her family now?

Craning her head, the little girl looked up at her father happily, adoringly even though drowsiness had begun to weigh in and pull her eyelids down a little. "They don' mean ta make her mad." Rosie told him, tracing one of the mama dog's eyes with her fingertip. The mama's eyes shone with sadness and worry. "Or sad."

Rather than go on this vein a bit, Rosie turned the page. Sure enough, the puppies were digging their way under the fence again towards the taboo field, Poky in the front of the pack. "But they did it again." Rosie narrated, tapping the hole under the fence with a finger. "'cause they didn' think their mama would catch 'em and be sad. But then...somethin' happened!"

She gasped dramatically, which turned into a yawn. This was certainly not part of the original story, but truth be told Rosie thought the original was a bit dull. She, after all, was growing up in a mansion with wonders that couldn't be counted, and struggles for survival. A puppy who went to a field was hardly worth talking about.

"A doggie named 'Maggie' came, flyin', and yelled a lot at them." Though the picture of the evil dog was not there, Rosie still looked at the book with wide eyes, snuggling against her papa. She paused again, unsure of what to say.
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Cyclops
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Scott sat up as he noticed Rosie starting to fade. He took the book from her and set it on the table. Pulling her over to him, flopping her on his chest, so they could lay down together, he draped his arm over her back, and closing his eyes behind his glasses, he picked up the story where she left off.

"So, flew over the little puppies and said, 'You are bad little puppies, and have wandered too far from your Mama, haha, you are mine now.'" Scott said, mimicking a sinister laugh that was not too sinister, "Poky Puppies brothers and sisters cuddled next to each other, very scared and very helpless. But, Poky Puppy had been off on his own again, and was not captured by wicked Maggie. He hurried off as quickly as he could, hurried all the way home to where Mama was and told her all about Maggie. Mama's eyes flashed and she flew up into the air and she and Maggie fought using their mutant powers. Maggie thought he was the best dog in the whole world and could do whatever he wanted, but Mama was much better than him. She floated him up up up way up until he circled the moon, and couldn't bother anyone anymore. Then, Mama, Poky and all Poky's brothers and sisters went home and had strawberry shortcake for dessert."

It was a silly story, but it had a much better ending the real book which was sort of sad since Poky doesn't get the dessert. Hopefully, it would be good enough to put Rosie to sleep, though he didn't need a nap as much anymore, his headache having gone away. He stroked her hair gently, very very content right now.
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Rosie
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Rosie was glad when her father gently took the book from her and lay it aside. His arms were warm and comforting, and she snuggled into them and his chest more than happily. They were just the thing to drive the worrying situation in the story from her mind.

The bit of story that her father told in addition to hers was the perfect ending. She listened to what he said drowsily, feeling the thrum of his voice through his chest. The little girl sighed in comfort, eyelids already starting to drift shut.

"She wasn' mad?" Rosie asked in a whisper, lifting her head very slightly to look muzzily at her father. Well, she supposed not, since they had gotten shortcake for dessert, all of them. Who cared if it was the right ending or not; her father had made it up, and therefore it was the best.

Laying her head back down on her father's chest, she sighed and yawned contentedly. Never could she have done this with either of her birth parents; they would have hit her. She was loved here, even if she wandered off and talked to strangers more than she should. Even without the story, Rosie knew that they would always forgive her. These thoughts did not occur specifically to Rosie at that moment; she was too far gone, already asleep in the warm of her father's arms.
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