Three Telepaths and a Wolf

July 27, 2015:

As Wolfsbane arrives at the Mansion after over a year away, Nate fills her, Betsy, and Emma in on another attack in Mutant Town. Along the way, Wolfsbane learns someone she thought was dead apparently is alive and well. Includes a brief Jean cameo.



NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It is not really very early anymore, but it is now when Nate finally comes down from the guest room he occupied last evening. A brief raid through the kitchen to conducted to steal the coffee pot. Then he turns on the telepathic radar to look for Betsy.

Because Lunair and Rose are still injured after their misadventures in Slade-Land, and Cable is god know -when-. That leaves only a member of the X-Men murder squad (aka Team Black) he can talk to. And he has murder in his mind.

The good thing is Betsy, as well as any other telepath in the grounds, will easily feel him coming. Nate telepathic signal is quite overwhelming, and he has yet to figure out how to mute it. It might be impossible.

Any other telepaths on the grounds? That would include Ms. Emma Frost, currently just emerging from her gleaming white limousine. "Thank you kindly, Cedric." she offers the man holding the door, then climbs the stairs heading for the porch. She is not here every day, but she is here far more often than anyone - Emma herself included - would ever have expected, since having taken up the 'mission' of helping to re-train Elizabeth Braddock's telepathy after her ordeal with the cosmic force known as the Phoenix.

Emma's mind is a gleaming, pristine tower without any sign or hint of the woman within. It is almost reflective, it is so bare and devoid of any sense of Emma. There is an icy coldness to its lack of empathic or emotive content. The striking touch of Nate's mind is like a gong blast against its surface, and she would wince if she had not made a lifetime's effort out of hiding all outward reaction, lest she offer an opponent any edge at all against her.

After a day or so in Salem Center to refamiliarize herself with the surroundings, Rahne Sinclair decided to make the 'trip' up to the Xavier's complex after a nice breakfast at the Grind Stone Cafe. Getting a bit of exercise in, she sneaks into the woods - no Fenris this time - and shifts to lope the rest of the way to the grounds, where she returns to her midform and uses the intercom to gain entry, the voice on the other side sounding like the wolfen woman is remembered.

From there, Wolfsbane strolls up the drive, a year or so older than she was the last time she set eyes on the mansion and beyond, along with wearing a different costume than whatever she trained in and had while one of the New Mutants. The limo is spotted, a glimpse of Emma Frost following, though she may or may not recognize the woman. Be that as it may, she also moves for the porch as she calls out a "Hullo!"

Betsy can sense Emma and Nate coming, but at that moment, she's utterly focused on her training regimine. Working outside to enjoy the fine weather, she wears long, extraordinarily baggy black aikido pants and a sports bra, with heavy cotton gloves protecting her hands and forearms. Drones, repurposed from the Danger Room's simulator area, fly around her with hissing and fitful buzzes, armed with microflechette launchers that hurl accurate if small razorblades at the woman. She stands with her katana over her head in a high guard stance, waiting, body poised and relaxed at once.

A drone emits a razor at her with a *phit* and she snaps her katana around, knocking the razor from the air. Her move takes her near another drone and she snaps her blade around to disable it with a slashing cut. The motion becomes a long series of low, smooth steps much akin to dancing, and the half-circle she traverses results in six disabled drones. A target stand loaded with clays- borrowed from Scott- snaps up, and with five precise and unerring, if deliberate, blasts, Betsy shatters them neatly into exactly one-half shards.

Her exercise done, she calmly removes her blindfold and turns to look at Emma and Nate with a calmly unsurprised look, a bit of perspiration on her neck, and then arches an eyebrow inquisitively at the vaguely familiar Rahne on approach. She launches a tendril of psychic inquisition, dissembling enough to go unnoticed by most, even a casually skilled psychic.

"Hullo, Nate, Emma," Betsy greets the two other X-men, keeping one eye on Rahne. "How are you today?"

A buzzer rings on Jean's desk. Despite looking like a sprawling boarding school, there's ample security about, automated and manned. She glances at her phone, then brings up the computer on her desk and feeds in the remote camera, panning towards Rahne's approach.

Facial recognition software kicks in before Rahne even gets a 'hello!' out to perhaps the two most inhospitable women currently at Xavier's. Jean rolls her eyes expressively at Betsy and Emma- knowing full well how badly Betsy in particular would handle an unfamiliar approach- and sends out a telepathic message, including Nate in her broadcast.

~Rahne,~ she informs the trio. ~She's been at the mansion before. She checks out. Please make her feel welcome? Betsy- /try/ to be nice.~

Nate does a double take at spotting the blonde Emma going in the main doors just as he was leaving. "Emma Frost? I had no idea…" he tilts his head. Younger he remembers Emma. Or maybe not, one never knows with Emma. "Well. Nice to metcha," he adds, heading out, and drinking coffee directly from the pot. Because Nate is a barbarian.

Along the way he nods to Rahne, which he doesn't recognize. But that is normal. And since there are no killer drones firing upon her, she is probably authorized to be here.

Speaking of killer drones… "hey, Betsy!" He greets, waving a tablet at the purple-haired woman. "I gotta talk with you."

Probably a good thing Emma is unaware she has become classed in Elizabeth's mind as an 'X-Man'. She would surely object to the term, in gender if naught else. Nevertheless, she is not reading Betsy's mind at the moment, but instead standing back to watch the woman on the grass execute her training regimine. Emma is not unimpressed; her own physical skills are nowhere near that level, especially not with a blade. She appreciates a fit body for a fit mind, and does not criticize Betsy's regimine; she just has no desire to join her in it.

"Elizabeth." Emma offers, with the tiniest of inclines of her head in a nod to acknowledge the other woman. She sweeps those ice cold eyes over Nate as he approaches with coffee in hand, putting together quickly that his was the thundering herd of one she sensed earlier. Subtle, the man is not. Not knowing him, Emma does not address him, but Elizabeth again. "You are doing well, I trust?" Better recovered every time Emma visits. And still the woman in white cannot seem to quash that tiny bit of herself that insists on actually /caring/ whether the purple-haired Brit-ninja is in fact getting better.

Receiving Jean's message, Emma turns slightly on the porch to keep the approaching woman in view. She tilts her head that same micrometer distance, because Jean would expect it of her, and for some stupid reason she cannot seem to stop herself from meeting the other woman's expectations. Damnit. "Hello." she offers, non-committally. It's cold and standoffish as a greeting, just like Emma. But it's a Hell of a lot warmer than just ignoring her, which is what Emma would have done without Jean's prompting.

Just moments after spotting Emma, now Nate as well, Wolfsbane's eyes catch sight of Besty at work outside. It's more the motion of the woman and the drones doing it than anything else, and Jean's 'suggestion' to the rest goes unheard by her. The bit of mental probing from Betsy may only register as a faint tickling somewhere in there, but her own mental defenses aren't strong enough for her to do anything about it. What Besty would pick up on is somewhat more than just a normal human mind in there.

"Och, good morning," Rahne adds once she's been noticed by the others, though Emma's tone and demeanor draws a briefly longer focus on the icy woman. The Scot then says and asks, "I got some time away from Muir Island an' I thought I'd come visit some old friends. I hope things are well?" Possibly a naive question, that.

Betsy snaps her blade back behind her neatly in a reverse grip, keeping the razor-sharp edge of the blackened blade from being casually run into or tripped on. "Better with each passing day," Betsy assures Emma. It's quite true- she's healed by leaps and bounds. With the 'therapy' from Emma and Jean, she's explored new notions about her talents and her limitations, finding many of them to be purely psychological. Emma had a talent for demanding perfection; Jean, for inspiring excellence. It's a potent combination of trainers, and Betsy takes to such labor like a duck to water.

~I'm listening, Nate,~ Betsy projects to the fellow telepath. ~Is there a crisis?~

To Rahne, she tilts her head forward minutely- it's a suggestion of a bow, but with no deference in it. Still, it's a bit more polite than Emma, if barely. "Rahne, isn't it?" Betsy says, possibly surprising the shapeshifter. "We recall you being at the Institute before. Elizabeth Braddock," she says, gesturing minutely at herself. Is she wearing her roommate's patented sweat-proof makeup? Yes. Because even in workout gear, Betsy insists on being camera ready. "Nate…" she nods at the male, "and Miss Frost," she says, gesturing to the last of them. "

"Is there something in particular that brings you here today?" she asks, giving the werewolf a level and penetrating look.

Nate hrms. Emma and Rahne make him rethink his words. Okay. "Yeah, I know Frost…" wait, no. He doesn't. "You know what I mean," he notes to Betsy. And since Emma probably doesn't, he smirks to the blonde, "long story involving parallel worlds.

And back to business, he shows Betsy the tablet. It is set on an internet newspaper based in Mutant Town. It says what regular newspapers and the news on TV doesn't say. Looks like the Purifiers struck again and killed six mutants by throwing Molotov cocktails into a bar last night. The article mentions the number of deaths in the attacks in the last six months and it is very high. It looks like some of the most human-looking residents are moving out, and the less human looking ones are fleeing underground. "The patrols are not working well enough, the neighbor is too large for the volunteers and people keep dying. The SRD is more a hindrance than a help, as usual."

Emma clearly isn't an 'old friend', and makes no attempt to appear as such. That would be lying, and she has been trying to keep a promise to Elizabeth not to lie to the people here. When did she make that promise? Well, that was something mentioned telepathically, while Betsy was still in her coma. Which might be why she likely remembers nothing of said promise. And yet, Emma keeps her word anyway. She's irksome like that. "I suppose it was a mite rude of me to assume you would simply be free for another of our sessions." Emma offers, without nearly the ice cold rancor in her voice most would expect, as she speaks to Elizabeth. Clearly, the woman is busy, and somewhat in demand. Emma should do less assuming that her timing works for Betsy. But damnit, that's the way the rest of her life works. Why not here?!

To Nate, Emma merely widens those ice blue eyes a bit. She has issues herself with timelines and foreknowledge, but she is not nearly so casual about it. "Everyone knows of me, if they are cognizant of reality." she comments scathingly to the younger man, putting out serious airs of the unimpressed. She /is/ a well-known public figure, even if less than two dozen people in the world actually know (still) she's a mutant telepath.

There is a flash of ice culd fury that floods out from Emma, coloring the local telepathic landscape like an ice age just moved in. "Clearly, reacting is not sufficient. The hapless monkeys need to be retrained." The way she says that, it's as if she's talking about exterminating a small population of misbehaving simians … or perhaps that would be unenlightened humans? Emma can be viciously proactive at times.

The wolfen shapeshifter offers a polite enough nod to each as they're named, giving hers just in case it's needed. "Rahne Sinclair, or Wolfsbane. I dinna believe I've met ye before," she mentions to Nate, giving Emma a similar focus. "An' ye look familiar, but I think I recognize th' name more than th' face. I simply wanted tae catch up with people I used tae learn with here, but I'm no' sure if they're around these days or no'."

With Nate getting into some details about Mutant Town, Wolfsbane frowns and takes a few steps closer before catching herself and stopping, the 'tail' of her outfit settling back in place. It may make her look like she should be off casting for some adventure werewolf film. "I heard there's been some bad news there lately. How bad is it?" Concern shows now, though Emma's seeming impatience leads to her maintaining her distance, especially so at the aggressive nature of the woman's opinion on current events. Silence follows from the Scot, then a glance back toward the gates that's a little too hard to hide.


"Mhm." Betsy doesn't /quite/ agree with Emma's expressed sentiment about propriety, but she doesn't go out of her way to disabuse her of that notion, either. She accepts the tablet from Nate one-handed and examines it, absently flicking the sound off when it blares a video about 'Mutant Town', and quite pointedly angling it away from Rahne when the girl starts to intrude into her personal space. Given her workout attire and the blackened sword still in her hand, she's hardly looking warmly approachable.

Without asking Nate's permission, she passes the tablet to Emma. Conscious of the woman's promise or not, Betsy's exercised a similarly unspoken one to integrate her into the 'family', such as it is, as quickly as possible. Knowing what is on their mind is a simple but profound statement of trust.

"I think they're wise to leave," Betsy tells Nate. "It's become a political target now. Whatever sense of community they had is being eroded by becoming a flashpoint. Leaving M-town and spreading into the community will make it harder to target them en masse." She glances at Emma, an expression of polite rebuke. "A short term solution for a long term problem," she says, delicately suggesting disagreement with Emma's reactionary plan. "Sympathy is a much more difficult emotion to engender, but perhaps more effective in the long run."

Looking to Rahne, she moves her free hand in a gesture of vague invitation, if not welcome. "You'll pardon us- issues with friends in New York has been on our minds a great deal," she tells the girl, not quite apologizing. "The situation is perilous, but not yet hopeless or dire. As for your friends, for whom are you looking in particular?" Betsy asks Rahne with eloquently cultured British tonals.

Nate sips from the coffee mug and grunts at Rahne. "It is bad. Most mutant haters that dare to attack mutants worry about getting caught or getting hurt. The Purifiers do not. They are like suicidal terrorist commandos, and some are very well armed." He paces restless, "most mutants got to Mutant Town to avoid human prejudice in the first place. Scattering is going to make them more vulnerable… and underground? Remember what happened to the Morlocks."

Emma's comment about monkeys makes him smirk again. Things like this make him want to go 'death to flatscans' himself. But that is Magneto's rant. "Yeah, some monkeys need to be removed from the jungle. And this comes just as the government is cracking down on public supergroups and building Sentinels and mutant scanners. I think we need to find out who is backing and training the Purifiers as soon as possible. And… hmm. Retrain the monkeys."

Emma accepted the tablet and looked through it, hence her earlier comments. When finished, she offers it to Nate somewhat off-handedly, most of her attention focused on Elizabeth; this is the woman she knows, the known quantity in this interaction for Emma. Her focus remains there, at least for the nonce.

"These animals have proven they have no empathy. They burned people alive, out of blind stupidity, fear and rage. They must be dealt with, at the root, plucked out lest they spoil the entire crop, as it were." Emma is not usually prone to flower or agriculture analogies, but when it fits, she won't shy away. "Like so many before them, they thrive on the anonymity of the crowd. Hunt them down. Name them. Make their faces public, and their heinous crimes. And if the humans will not bring them to justice then do so, swiftly and permanently, so that they know this will not be tolerated, and neither will we allow them the monopoly on fear."

Unlike Betsy, however, Emma does not seek to exclude Rahne from the topic of conversation. Wolfen as she is, the other woman clearly has a say in a topic such as this, for she would be just as much as risk - if not moreso - than any of the others out here today. Instead, the cold woman in white turns to the Scot redhead and answers her directly, "If you truly have a wish to know, then I would direct you to the very news outlet we have just been perusing." She's assuming - yay telepathy - the other woman has the means to view something like that, so Emma just flips out her own phone and types out the URL so that Rahne can see it. OK, she could have put the damned thing in the girl's head, but … she'll respect those boundaries. See?!

Emma refrains from preening as Nate proves to agree with her in this situation. Instead, she just nods, slightly but demonstrably. The point has been made, and she agrees with it wholeheartedly.

"Mostly th' other New Mutants," Wolfsbane says when asked of who she was looking for. "But by noo I'm sure most o' them are living their own lives elsewhere, unless they're teaching here a' all." That becomes secondary to the pointed discussion that develops about Mutant Town and the Purifiers. "Even th' name they call themselves is foul," she offers, understanding why they chose it. "I've been isolated from a lot o' it all with muh duties back home, but this is terrible. Naebody should have tae live in so much fear tha' they canna even feel safe in their own homes." She's stopping considerably short of advocating for some of the reactions the others here sound comfortable with, however. She couldn't say just what she'd be accepting of. Not yet.

Still, Rahne nods slowly to the information shared by the others, tucking it away in her head before she leans closer to view Emma's phone. "I'll look tha' up when I'm back at th' room I've got. I dinna like th' sound o' this one bit. I had nae idea things were getting this bad." Amazing what over 3,000 miles and an ocean can hide from a person.


Betsy lifts one shoulder in a shrug of polite argument, though not quite broaching disagreement. "I'm of the opinion that there are two agencies with which we need to deal," she suggest. That's really /Jean's/ opinion, but Betsy is a believer in not borrowing other people's words if she agrees with their assessment. "The Purifiers and New York's human population. The Purifiers need to be dealt with immediately, and severely, but we can't lose sight of the goal to help make sure that humanity doesn't feel left behind- or a need to leave us behind," Betsy tells the others. Wow, she really /is/ channeling Jean. "This is a battle with our souls very much at stake, and in this rare instance, /how/ we win is as important as victory itself."

She listens to Rahne intently, staring at her with intense and unreadable amethyst eyes, and nods once. "Immediacy and proximity," she suggests to Rahne. "Distance complicates things. As for returning to the Institute, we welcome anyone here to learn and engage in the exchange of information," she invites the wolfen. "How long have you been gone from here at this point?"

"They weren't this bad a few months back," comments Nate at Rahne's words. "There was Graydon Creed bullshit speeches, but those were just words." Of course Creed might have caused the Purifiers forming… no, some of the Purifiers had extensive training and weaponry, they must have been preparing for years.

Betsy's speech gets an odd look, "now you are talking like Jean. That is all fine on paper, but have you noticed we are in an secret, isolated compound protected by supertech, many miles from the closest important human community and that 95% of the staff here are mutants? Most people living here doesn't even go to New York for movies. Team Red is the way to go, some even live in Mutant Town."

Wolfsbane finds herself nodding slowly to much of what Betsy is saying, a more measured approach than what she's heard so far. "That's been th' way I've tried tae live muh life. It's just verra difficult to remember it sometimes when others dinna have th' same respect for all people." It's a less complicated point of view, one that is predicated on the idea that everyone has some good in them…which is clearly not always the case. "But over an' over, people hurt an' kill others they dinna like, whether it's mutants, people o' different colors, religions, nationalities…" She trails off there, her point more or less made.

"It just feels like this sort o' thing is what people always resort tae sooner or later. It makes me hurt inside, knowing tha'," the wolfen woman admits, her expression reflecting the words. "But ye have a point as well," she adds to Nate.

Before forgetting, she explains to Betsy, "Th' last time I visited was probably a year ago, maybe longer. I've been kept verra busy helping Lady Moira with her research, but she's got others who can assist her just th' same an' I thought it was time I tried coming back oot here. I'm hoping it's no' a mistake."


Betsy gestures vaguely at Nate's assertion about her speech patterns. He's right, of course, so there's not much point in belabouring it. She doesn't argue as compassionately as Jean, of course, but she expresses her points adroitly, if bluntly.

"I have noticed that, yes," she tells Nate, treating his question as if not a rhetorical one, while clearly disparaging his tone. "I do maintain an apartment in New York and I make frequent visits to that neighborhood. My positions on the topic are hardly mutually opposed. Fight, hide, or run- those are the only options when facing an enemy. Those mutants who cannot fight should run. Those who can't run, should hide. If any is willing to fight, then we co-opt them into our strategy. The Purifiers represent an emotional focus for many humans," she says, her clipped tones coldly precise. "If we only combat them, then we set ourselves as adversaries. We must combat their ideology and not just their tactics. If humans are shown that the Purifiers can be beaten, then we've proven only our capability for violence and our resolution to use it. If we show that the Purifiers are wrong, then their defeat recruits allies for us."

She exhales slightly at herself for getting lost in verbosity, mentally marshalling herself away from the discussion as it veers into the dangerous realm of subjective morality (which she finds incredibly boring), and focuses on Rahne again.

"Dr. MacTaggert is a staunch ally and friend," Betsy assures Rahne. "And any friend of hers is certainly welcome here. Professor Xavier will certainly wish to speak with you, of course, but he is indisposed- we can accomodate you in the guest wing temporarily until he's available for an informal discussion. I assure you, despite the politics of the moment, you're quite welcome," she tells Rahne, trying to sound a bit more compassionate. "Strength can be best found in unity."

Nate seems skeptic at Betsy's words, but then again, he wasn't thinking in 'defeating' the Purifiers publicly or anything of the kind. He is not even sure he cares what normal folks think of how the Purifiers are dealt with. No one likes terrorists, right?

Then again, Scott and Rachel have been labeled terrorists. Bah… Monkeys.

"Fine. You come up with a way to 'fight the ideology' but I am going to start mind-sweeping those bastards for intel on their backers, bosses and bank accounts," he states.

"Surely there are multiple ways of going after them, which I believe we should do. We have a responsibility tae protect everyone we can, be they mutant or no'," Wolfsbane suggests, pacing slowly side to side while the philosophical debate continues. "But I agree with ye about what th' other mutants there should do depending on what they can do," she remarks to Betsy.

A hint of a smile shows at the good words the woman has for Moira, leading to Rahne nodding a few times. "I'm happy tae hear tha', an' I'd be happy tae speak with th' Professor. I'm no' sure yet if I'll stay here tae begin with or no', though. Part o' me wants tae consider Mutant Town, tae be able tae help more quickly if trouble shows up. Maybe some o' muh friends are around there as well."

"You are a mental sledgehammer." Emma opines, coldly but accurately. There's no anger or vitriol there, just a statement of fact. "I propose you allow me to do the … 'mind sweeping', I believe you called it? They are far less likely to notice my efforts, and I believe I can guarantee not only finding the information, but having a better idea of how to use it effectively." Yes. Emma is playing the 'upper class' card. If the diamond shoe fits …

"I should also point out," Emma offers, facing Elizabeth again, if verbally so, "I did suggest we begin by exposing their crimes and turning them over to the legal authorities. I only advocated further recompense and directed action if said authorities refused to take action."

"Planning is Jean's department," Betsy informs Nate. Is she being smug? No, of course not. Still, it's impossible to tell- she's got a poker face that The Vision would envy and her mind is a swirling mass of nebulous shadows. Then again, British wit is notoriously dry, and Betsy's sense of humor tends towards the nearly Saharan at times.

She listens to Emma's proposal, then nods. "Agreed," she says, simply, meeting Emma's frosty blue eyes for a moment. A weighty conversation encapsulated in a single word and a minute gesture of appreciation for her insight and offer of assistance. "Nate, your strengths might be employed to more effect in surveilling the borough as a whole," she suggests to the man. "Our reconnaissance has been… incomplete. Compiling an accurate assessment of movement patterns and incidents might be useful for larger strategic planning." A muscle tics in her jaw. Strategy talks usually include Scott, who is conspicuous in his absence.

Turning to Rahne, she considers the woman's words. "Your safety in the area would be questionable," she tells Rahne, finally. "But if you're looking for someone to stop you, you shan't find it here. Still, at the moment I can hardly recommend the area as being safe for a solitary traveller. If you'll stay here for a day, I'll drive you down with me on my next trip to the city," she offers as a compromise. "And you can return with me when you feel inclined."

"Planning this is what Scott should be doing," comments Nate. "Instead he was arrested and now he is missing. All those expensive lawyers are not getting answers," which is another thing that is gnawing at him. Even more for Rachel than for Scott, to say the truth.

"If you want to help," he says to Rahne. "I think the X-Men Red Team is coordinating the volunteer patrolling around Mutant Town. They have managed to stop several attacks already. Is Iceman in charge now? Well, gotta be him or Sunspot, or maybe Cypher." He should volunteer too, but last week he was worried about a missing girlfriend, and the week before with Mr. Clean assassinations.

Emma volunteering to do the psychic interrogation surprises him. God forbids if the blonde breaks one of her nails doing some dirty work. Metaphorically speaking, that is. He is a sledgehammer, that is true, that is why he went to Betsy. One of the reasons.

"Summers, yes?" Emma queries, at mention of the missing 'Scott'. Father of Rachel, if she understands correctly. Damned time jumpers. As if she has room to talk. "If the lawyers are not getting any information, I think perhaps that other means of asking pointed questions should be applied." By which, none too obliquely, the White Queen is suggesting doing even more 'mind sweeping', at much higher levels. MUCH higher leels.

"I assume I have your approval, then, to assist in this matter?" Emma queries. She /is/ stepping in uninvited. And so be it. She will not allow those goddamned nightmares to come true. If she has to mind-rape half the population of New York City in a methodical manner to prevent them? So be it. No one else needs to know the details. Just the results.

Now Wolfsbane is even nodding to the things Emma has to say. At least, the end of it. She knows nothing of Nate's abilities, but the fact there are telepaths around her are clear enough. "Everyone just has tae be organized in what they do, an' keep each other informed. Even if one o' us just sees someone looking suspicious when we're around there, it's important tae keep track o' it."

Betsy gets a brief smile as she shakes her head at the Brit. "I didna mean I was going tae just go right doon there th' second we finish up here. I'd be as careful as can be. But, I can go around a wee bit more carefully if need be. See?" She proves this with a shift from her current state to one completely human. "I may lose some o' muh abilities this way, but I've grown a lot better a' changing small parts o' muhself when it's called for." The fur, fangs, and claws reappear moments later. "I'll take ye up on th' offer, though."

Finally, there are a few things Nate says that stirs different reactions out of Rahne. "Arrested? For what? An' naebody knows where he is?" If that wasn't enough, there's a familiar name she hears in Sunspot, but he's not the reason a wave of sadness washes over her, leading to an initial look of surprise followed by sorrow. "I'm sorry, but Cypher..Doug..he died trying tae protect me. I was right there an' saw it with muh own eyes. It's a big part o' why I left this place when I did. I could no' handle it. It's simply no' possible he could still be alive." Emma's eagerness to ramp up the efforts to locate Cyclops go unresponded to by her in light of the news she's just heard.

Nate was going to ask something along the lines 'aren't you a X-Woman?' to Emma, likely with hilarious results. But Rahne mentions Doug being dead, which startles him. "Doug died? But I saw him just a few days ago," and Rahne said she left a year ago. Something is not computing. He shakes his head. "You gotta talk with Jean, I think. Both of you. I am heading back to New York, I should be back tonight," he heads out.

Wolfsbane is left shaking her head. She arrived with a few general questions but now there are more specific ones she must find answers to. "If Doug it truly alive, I.." Both hands run through her head, one tugging at her ponytail for a couple moments. "I canna act rashly about this. There must be a sensible explanation. People dinna just come back from th' dead." She will find out. The stuff she's got back at the room in Salem Center can wait. "If ye'll excuse me," she adds before entering the building with a swift step.

Well, since Nate does not ask, Nate does not learn. Such is the way of learning and wisdom. Emma merely shrugs, having no apparent intention of talking to Jean about anything regarding this. Jean is a nice enough woman, she supposes. But Emma just isn't capable of taking that saccharine-sweet redhead's mental presence for longer than absolutely necessary to keep the peace with Elizabeth. Yes, yes. They are the best of friends, blah blah.

"Are we having a session today, Elizabeth?" Emma inquires. And after receiving her answer, the frosty blonde merely nods. "Very well. I bid you all adieu. I will pass along the information I gather once it is properly assembled and complete. Elizabeth knows how to reach me if necessary before then." And with that, Emma heads down the stairs from the porch. Somehow, the driver knew to pull himself around, as the car is right there when she arrives at the bottom of the stairs, and he is only seconds away from opening the door for her.

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