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| Head in the Clouds, Feet on the Ground; (Scott, Jean and Xavier) | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 16 2014, 09:20 PM (176 Views) | |
| Xavier | Nov 16 2014, 09:20 PM Post #1 |
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Telepathy
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September 15 Early Evening If you were to ask Scott Summers to anticipate how many people would be eager to welcome him home, he would vastly underestimate it, guessing it would be about as many as a person could count on one hand. It most certainly was more than that, and Scott, being Scott, found it overwhelming and slightly embarrassing. He was determined to change the solitary and insulated impression that he gave out though and was patient enough to sit with everyone who wanted to sit with him, to meet with everyone who wanted to meet with him, and to catch up with everyone who wanted to catch up with him. But, eventually, enough was a enough, and so Scott had sent out a plea to his wife through the telepathic rapport that they shared. Jean, who did not have the social anxieties of her husband, was a wise and emotionally intuitive woman, so she understood what was needed at this moment. So, she excused herself, and spoke in mental tones to the one person in the school who was capable of showing the restraint where these reunions were concerned, and had been contented to know that when the time was right, he would have his turn. Charles Xavier was waiting in his office, when Scott and Jean arrived, both well recovered from the trip, dressed casually, a little tanner, a little stronger. They bore dinner trays, Scott balancing both his and the Professor's, though Jean could easily have steadied it with her powers. He greeted them at the door, and noticed the differences in them, wordlessly. His last visit with Scott had been with a man recovering from great horrors, ashamed and uncertain if he could rebuild his broken pieces. His last visit with Jean had been with a woman filled with uncontrolled power who was being forced to hold herself together for the love of that broken man. Who were they now, and what ad they discovered in their long journey around the world? It had never been a mission for Shield, they had never truly placed finding Magneto or the imposter who had taken his place as the primary reason for this outing, and Xavier had known that probably better than they themselves did. Allowing Scott to fussily place the tray just so on the desk before he helped Jean with getting situated, Xavier smiled. Some thing's never changed, no matter what else happened. There were parts of Scott that would always be uniquely Scott, and parts of Jean that no one else ever saw. Finally, once the three meals were arranged, and the students and mentor turned old friends were seated, Xavier reached out and caught their hands in his, connecting them in a loose triangle of warmth and gratitude. "Welcome back," he said, with heartfelt emotion, "Welcome home." |
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| Jean | Nov 18 2014, 08:00 AM Post #2 |
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
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JP Jean, Scott, Xavier Jean locked eyes with Xavier and suppressed a shared smile as Scott fussed over the older man a few minutes until he was satisfied, and they could have dinner. “Thank you, Charles, it’s a relief to be home again,” Jean replied, letting her smile through this time. That ‘Charles’ was still somewhat strange on her lips; for so many years he was Professor, a fitting title for a mentor that in her mind became his name, but he was no longer their mentor but an equal, and Xavier seemed so formal for a man they owed their lives to. “You get out on the seas too, the isolation is really refreshing; just a few minds amid hundreds of miles of silence.” Xavier smiled with Jean as Scott was so very Scott, and as Jean spoke, he nodded. "I imagine the silence would be very relaxing, but I think at the moment the best thing for me is be in the middle of the maelstrom of voices and thoughts, relearn to find that quiet on my own, I suppose. I've been working on rebuilding my control with Miss Frost. It seems to be helping to give her something constructive to do." "Emma's been giving you lessons in telepathy?" Scott frowned as he looked up from his plate, "That seems very... unlike her." "Does it?" Xavier asked, "It seems like it is very much like her, actually." He picked up his fork, "So, what did you find out there on the open ocean?" The mention of Emma’s name felt like a bucket of ice water poured on her good mood for Jean and the amusement died in her eyes. The fact that Charles would have known what effect dropping her name hadn’t gone unnoticed; sometimes the old man could be a bastard. So, Emma had gotten her husband, and now, worming her way into Charles’ regard too. Well, so much for this place being her home, she thought as she picked at her food and left Scott to do the answering. Pot roast…Mmmm… yum. Charles looked at Jean, and reached over, placing a hand on hers, as if it was just a friendly gesture. ::We're in the business of helping, remember.:: Then, he dropped his hand, casually. Scott missed the gesture, and the message was not sent to him, so he was ignorant of the whole thing. "We found... well, what we didn't find is probably as important as what we did, I guess." "Oh, do tell," Xavier said. Scott hitched a shoulder, "Magneto is gone. Just... gone." Xavier steepled his hands before him, and a sorrowful look passed over his face, "Poor Erik." She had no reply, there was nothing to say, and neither the hand or the words thrawed Jean’s cold hatred of Emma Frost. She hadn’t thought of Emma, seen her smug face in her mind’s eye, for several blessed months, and back in this house, it would be torture again. “He’ll pop up again,” she added, purely from a feeling that she needed to say something, anything. “Perhaps the Brotherhood will find him. If they’re even looking,” she added with a shrug. “Or perhaps their loyalty only goes so far.” "I've always felt responsible for Erik's anger," Xavier admitted, "As if his violence was the result of some failure on my part. I won't deny I was hoping you'd find something concrete, some clue at the least, that would lead to getting him the help he so badly needs." Scott glanced at Jean, and then, said, "Professor, we did find something, but, the source is... not entirely credible." “The source is a sadistic egomaniac with a puppetmaster fixation,” Jean clarified. “And extremely powerful. So, what he said has to be taken with a mountain of salt.” Xavier lowered his head, "So. Essex has finally contacted you." Scott looked up, sharply, almost dropping his fork. He was not a man who showed his emotions openly as a rule, but the shock was more than obvious on his face, "You know about him?" "Yes," Xavier said, quietly, looking first at Scott and then at Jean, "I stole you both away from him when you were teenagers. I was hoping that it would never come to this, but I was always afraid it might. What exactly did he tell you?" “No,” Jean replied, her fork stopped midway and lowering back to her plate, “you tell us what you know. While you’re at it, you can also add why you never told us about him before; we haven’t been teenagers for over a decade, Charles.” The Professor was silent for a moment, studying Jean for a moment, his expression far less readable than Scott's had been. Then, he said, his voice even and calm, "Nathaniel Essex was a geneticist, brilliant obviously, and completely obsessed with evolutionary advancement. I first became aware of his work when I was a student at Oxford, even reached out to the man, thinking there might be some benefit in sharing research. It was immediately apparent to me that he was indeed a genius, but a monster, as well. I was twenty two years old at the time, far out of my depth, barely becoming aware that there were others like me, and what I found in Essex... well, I was far too unprepared to deal with. I've never felt so sinister a presence in all of my life before or since." "Sinister," Scott said, "That's what he called himself." "Yes," Xavier said, quietly, "I realized then, after my narrow escape from his machinations, that if there were men like that, powered and totally ruthless, in the world, the war between our people and humankind would escalate without champions to defend those who could not save themselves. The creation of the X-Men is directly the result of my meeting with Nathaniel Essex, and my first class was built from those who he had taken a special interest in. My way, I suppose, of attempting to delay whatever it is he's trying to do. My greatest failure is that I was not able to locate you before he did." Charles’ information was enlightening, her lips parted in amazement as pieces that Charles hadn’t even mentioned fell into place. “The First Class… all. Warren… tortured and changed into Death. Hank… taken and a twisted clone was made from him.” She looked over at Scott, “A clone that continued the attacks on us.” She turned to Xavier, “And had you. All of it goes back to this man. And that’s mere what we know about, certainly just the tip of the iceberg.” Angry and hurt that Charles’ decision to keep information from them… to keep secrets from them, Jean signed and rubbed her eyes. What was done, was done? “And Jonny… dead from a rare form of cancer… and Sinister, a geneticist,” she shook her head; the odds made it too unbelievable that it wasn’t murder. Scott had stopped eating, the story and the implications devastating. "All of it because of this man. Why didn't you tell us?" "Because what would it have helped," the Professor answered, his voice still that calm and almost gentle softness, "He chose you because you had the potential to be strong for him, because you were weak and malleable at those moments. An abused orphan angry at the world, desperate to have someone, anyone tell him he had value. A tormented girl being driven mad by powers too strong for her youth and inexperience, abandoned and thought a hopeless case. A neglected silver spoon tarnished by misunderstood deformity? A genius trapped in a bestial body, his true worth being stifled by convention. A runaway pretending he was one thing in order to deny his true self? By bringing you all here, you were able to find strength in each other, in yourselves. Knowing the danger wouldn't have changed anything for the better." "We still had the right to know," Scott said. "You did," Xavier admitted, "And, I should have told you. I'm sorry." Jean got up from her chair and drifted to behind Scott’s, rubbing her hands up and down his arms as though the winter chill had suddenly swept through the room and she was trying to keep Scott warm. Or maybe she wanted the touch for her comfort as much as his. “He’s tracked us all these years,” she said to Charles, “have you been able to track him also?” Xavier's eyes met hers and he said, "It's not a coincidence that all he's done to you has been during my absence." Reaching up, Scott put his hand up to catch Jean's where she stroked his arm, "So, what does that mean, Professor?" "I can't track him," Xavier said, "He's able to shield himself from telepathic detection. I gather you found that out about him when you met him, Jean. He's powerful, but he's just one more power in the world that needs you to stand against it. What you've both grown up to be, what you've all grown up to be... You're able to stand against him, and now... he knows that or you wouldn't be here talking to me right now." “One win against so many losses, Charles,” she looked down at Scott with concern in her eyes. “I can’t feel good about it.” With a squeeze of Scott’s hand, she backed away but hesitantly. “Too much for one day,” she said. “I’m done. Night, Charles.” Scott had more to say, needed more answers, but his first responsibility was, and always would be to his wife. He rose, and said, "I think we need time to process this," He looked to the Professor, apologetically, "I'm sorry, sir, this wasn't what I had in mind for our first dinner back." With a nod, Xavier said, "I understand. Please, believe that everything I have ever told you, or not told you, was to protect you, to allow you to be who you were meant to be." "I know, Charles," Scott said, "We know." He picked up the dinner trays, and said, "We'll see you in the morning. Good night, Professor." "Good night," Xavier returned. "Sleep well." Then, he was alone. |
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2:29 PM Jul 11