Plain Sight

June 19, 2015:

Jean and the Professor meet with Kurt and Psylocke for a brief chat.

Jean's Office

Characters

NPCs: Professor_X

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Dusk fell over the X-Mansion, the secret meeting in between two parents were a quiet buzz, especially since the Headmaster made his way from his office and directly into Jean's as soon as the parents arrive. Sometimes, students would slow past her door, hearing voices within and nothing at all, that odd feeling of needing to be somewhere important or.. homework needing to be done was prominent in that area.

It was a meeting that seemingly lasted for hours; the prospect of a new student joining the brood. However, something is different about the student itself. The student was just a mere human. There were no thoughts or hints as to them being a mutant. The parents, friends of Jean, saw the graduation rate and how well put together most of the students were, how they held jobs and entered into college without leaving the campus grounds.

Grades were also a must. Students weren't as high compared to others, but the steady stream of teachers that taught things that they'd agreed with, along with Professor Xavier's vision of the school, it struck a chord within and sealed the deal.

Papers tossed in their direction, handshakes and hugs given, the two parents of the prospective students leave the campus grounds, leaving only Xavier and Jean to talk it over.

"This is how it starts, Professor. Parents with an open mind who see nothing but the love and care that we show our students." She smiles a little, resting upon the tops of her desk, one leg crossed over the other. The Professor himself sat within his chair, hands grasping the small tray which holds his tea, fingers pinching the ear as he brings it to his lips to sip. He was highly amused at the little fit of inspiration that was found within his former student.

*

Kurt Wagner comes upstairs to check in with the Professor, to see if there's anything he needs to be working on. He's recently returned from a short sabbatical in Europe, a spiritual retreat that gave him time to think and refocus. He's wearing a pair of brown corduroys and a golden sweatshirt with the school log on it, apparently perfectly at home wearing normal clothes around the place, in spite of his obvious difference. His tail swishes around behind him as he makes his way in. He has a large mug of tea, his thick fingers wrapped around it.

"Guten tag, Jean, Professor. I trust everything is well, ja? I am hearing no alarm bells and no one has tried to kill me, so it must be a good day around the Institute," he says with a wry, fanged smile, "I was going to head out for my volunteer shift in Mutant Town, but I thought I would make sure there were no school duties requiring my attention. I know that I have not been teaching in some time, so it might take me a little time to shake off the rusting, as they say," he says. He makes his way over and kisses Jean on the cheek, European style.

*

"Jean, did you steal my grey sweats, I can't find them-" Betsy is brought up short by her own lack of manners, pushing open the door to Jean's office without bothering to peek ahead or wait for her knock to be acknowledged. Her full lips part in a soft 'o' of surprise, looking from Jean to Kurt to Charles. She quickly mutes the cellphone in her hand and jams it in her back pocket of her fitted jeans, smiling apologetically to the two men.

"I'm so sorry to barge in. Hello, Kurt," she says, recovering some of her equilibrium. "Professor," she adds, ducking in something a little like a curtsey. "I just came to say hello to Jean, but if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?" she offers politely, reaching behind her for the door handle to let herself out if requested.

*

Jean's eyes light as she sees Kurt, she hadn't seen him in a while. But in reality, they all have been busy with their own trials and tribulations. Kurt's helping out in Mutant Town was a godsend. With or without his inhibitor, he was easily 'one of them'.

"Ah, Kurt." The Professor murmurs lightly, the sip of his tea given and settled into his lap like a proper gent, that slightly gentle smile plays upon his lips but does not reach his eyes. For they were laughing, almost.

Jean lifts her cheek a little to accept and receieve the kiss, her hand reaching out to lightly pat his shoulder, drawing away to slip down from the desk itself.

"And so it must be, Kurt." The Professor offers up, the tray of tea, sugar, and teapot still upon Jean's desk, gestured to partake as well as a few teacups to fill with. His chair moves back just a touch for room, for another mind was in his perhiprial.

"If there is anything that needs to be done here at the school.."
"I will take care of it." Jean speaks up. "Volunteering at Mutant town.."
"..is almost as important as looking after our students." The Professor finishes.
"With the epidemic of the Smooth and other things that have been plaguing our community as of late.." Jean continues, fussing a bit with her chair.
"..we need more helping hands and representatives to show suppo.."

"Bets, it's fine. Come on in."

What the hell just happened there?
*

Kurt Wagner watches the telepathic game of ping-pong with an amused smile. He's gotten used to it to a certain degree, having spent so long around the mansion and understanding the close bond that exists between Jean and the Professor. "Ah, yes, the drug issue. I had read about that, most unfortunate. I hope that we can continue to push forward in putting an end to that," he says.

He smiles to Betsy, bowing slightly to the Briton as she makes her way in, "I am only wishing to make good use of myself. If my activism is the best route, then I will continue to pursue it. I admit, I have lost some of my taste for more martial pursuits, although, of course, you need only ask and I will answer."

*

Betsy looks to Kurt and flickers one of her suggestions of a smile at the other mutant, about as expressive as a Maori statue. She closes and latches the door behind them- and at a pointed look from Jean, rolls her eyes at the other woman and with an expression of supreme focus, locks it as well, using her telekinetic talents.

She moves to the little tea service while Kurt and the Professor chat, pouring tea for everyone. It's not so much being a psychic as being British- a lifetime of habits. She offers a cup and saucer to Charles, then Kurt, then lastly, one for Jean and then one for herself. Just as Kurt finishes speaking, Betsy moves to a chair and settles into a prim seat upon the cushion, hooking one of her bright red Pradas behind the other at the ankle, and taking a genteel sip of her beverage, saucer floating delicately below the cup to catch any possible drips (not that she'd ever let THAT happen).

*

"Peace, Kurt." The Professor immediately says, one hand lifting to still.
"That's Scott's department." Jean finishes. The chair was done being fussed with, the height adjusted so that Jean could sit comfortably to swing her legs. "Though perhaps you could volunteer at the clinic. Ororo has been helping there, as well as myself. They need more counselours than they could shake a stick at." Jean offers up.

"I'm sure your expertise in that regard would be needed." The Professor murmurs. The smile remains upon his face as he reaches for the offered tea, cooling it with a few quick huffs of breath, eyes canted towards Elizabeth to watch with a critical gaze.

Jean takes her tea as well, though she doesn't immediately take a sip. It was set aside for now, in favor of the current conversation at hand. "Indeed. There are a few things that you may or may not be needed for, such as our expedition into Africa by the request of Warren Industries. It wouldn't hurt for the villagers to have another kind ear or shoulder to lay on." Jean offers an idle shrug, her fingers looping into the ear of her teacup. Of course, that entire situation did not sit well with her.

*

Kurt Wagner smiles, taking a seat for himself as well, his legs idly folding underneath him in a cross-legged style, "I do not know that I consider myself an expert on very much of anything, except perhaps certain fields of acrobatics," he says. "But I like listening. I feel like I learn more than I give, but learning is how we can move forward. As I grow older, I find that I need to listen more eto the younger generation, if I'm to understand what's happening. The problems facing our people have changed so much just during my lifetime. We were barely a rumor when I was swinging from the trapeze. Now we're on a global stage," he sighs.

"Of course, public faces like Elizabeth here can help as well, on that broader scope. As do leaders such as you and Jean, Professor," he says. "I would be happy to help in Africa although, of course, I understand that my appearance might not be the most reassuring."

*

Betsy's features are utterly inscrutable. Even to the Professor, though perhaps more disturbingly, even to Jean. The Asiatic-featured woman holds the saucer hovering a few inches above her knee, not quite being so declase as to risk staining her comfortable jeans, and casually flicks her hair behind her- worn straight today, it shimmers in the comfortable lights of the office, looking as if she'd just come from the salon. She manages to make her jeans and red camisole top look like she'd just walked off a photographer's set for women's summer casual wear.

Angular amethyst eyes flicker from Jean to Xavier, then to Kurt, one eyebrow upticking very minutely in interest as Jean starts to more publically air the nature of the crisis brewing in Africa- one more personally related to the X-men than anyone is comfortable admitting publicly to the team. The teacup is lifted again to her dark cherry lips and she sips silently, listening as Jean and Xavier bring Kurt into the larger discussion at hand.

*

"The wise do not consider themselves experts on anything. But they remain aware that there is still room for growth." The Professor comments. There was a quiet sipping then, idle in thoughts, eyes shifting towards Jean..
"Just as a teacher knows when they have more to learn than what they already know."
"And the most humble deny themselves the glory.."
"We're going in circles." Jean finally speaks up, clearing her throat.

She finally sips her tea, her jaw tensing as her gaze soon fall upon Betsy. The woman was being unusually quiet. "I can say that since I've returned from my small sabbatical there have been at least three viral attacks against our kind. One most lethal and the other that involves us all. Humans, meta-humans, and mutants. The most dire effect being on those not directly affected."

"The families." Charles continues. "Most often look to the victims and fail to realize that the families of those inflicted are victims themselves."

"It all almost erases the sense of security that they all have within another and breaks down the very foundation.."

"..of familial love." The Professor finishes. Jean leans back within her seat, keeping herself busy with the tea as her eyes remain downward. "I wouldn't call Elizabeth a public face." Jean teases, finally looking up towards her friend. "Though I'm sure with regards to your appearance, Dr. McCoy could assist in creating something long sustainable for you."

*

Kurt Wagner shakes his head, "I have a simulator now - it only works for ashort periods, but that is fine. I want to wear my face publicly - I want others to come to see me as I am, to recognize me as a human being in spite of my appearance. To see me as just another person. To do that, I cannot hide myself away. But I also recognize that my particular appearance isn't just different but, in some cases, frightening. Especially to children who may not expect someone such as me."

He takes a sip of the tea himself, "Tumultuous times, to be sure," he says with a sigh. It has always been thus, to some degree, although Kurt prays every day for peace. So far, the answer to those prayers has been "No".

*

Betsy's eyes flicker upwards. Most people might think she's glancing at the ceiling for thought. Jean would probably recognize it as Betsy's equivalent of flipping someone off. Still, a little smile tugs the corner of the woman's mouth at her friends teasing jibe.

"Regrettably," Betsy says, pursing her lips into a thoughtful moue, "this is a situation where my familial name can't be leveraged. As Betsy Braddock, I have a certain degree of influence among the aristocracy and peasantry of the UK. But as Psylocke, I'm responsible for quite a different sector of society. There is a reason I keep a 'low profile' in our professional guises," she reminds the group. "Being outed as a mutant among the peerage would undermine my work among that group to improve our standing abroad."

*

"I don't know, Kurt. There are a few children here who appreciated your appearance as soon as they saw you." Jean reminds him. That little memory tickled her fancy. In fact, she broke out into a hint of laughter as a visiting mutant child, ready to head into K4, managed to latch upon Kurt's tail to never let go. It was an adorable sight. "But we do understand your concerns." Jean manages to say.

"Whatever you shall decide, you will have our full support." Xavier nods, then slowly reaches forward to return his teacup to the tray. Elizabeth's words nearly causes both heads to turn, a slight brow lifted from Jean and a warm smile from the Professor. "I am sure that your brother is handling the standing of all our kind abroad. But the need for secrecy is great amongst many of us all, for there are those who do seek to utilize our talents not for the greater good, but for ill." They all knew that. The two sitting in front of Jean and the Professor would be a hot commodity for certain groups, and if they were captured? Extremely dangerous.

The door unlocks its latches on it's own, as the chair turns and begins to wheel for the door. It's opening was subtle, a small creak and groan, extended wide as the Professor stops to smile up towards a young man who looked to be in his twenties.

"Ah, Mr. Graham." The Professor speaks to the man, reaching out with a hand to shake the other mans as he kneels just a little to come eye level to the Professor. Graham was a college student at the institute, currently preparing to aid with efforts in Russia. This mutant, however was the special kind. He was an empath, yet mute. His voice would spread the intense emotion he feels.

There was an eerie moment of silence as the three share words, lips tightening together as eyes shift from one person to the next. The Professor nods, while Jean lets out a singular chuckle, then stands. "Very well." She says, "I'll prepare the Blackbird. Departure in three days?"

Graham nods, and soon the Professor reaches out with a hand to gesture towards the hallways beyond. "Walk with me, and we'll discuss your concerns further."

The chair turns, the Charles regarding them all in kind. "Elizabeth. Kurt. Jean." And with a grasp of Graham's hands against the wheelchair, he back the Professor out of the door and begins to walk alongside him.

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