Savage: A Prelude

June 16, 2016:

A dinner date leads to an adventure in the Savage Land

Somewhere in the Savage Lands


NPCs: Professor X

Mentions: Emma Frost and Betsy Braddock


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…


It started with a night out on the town. Jean in Emma's borrowed white dress, skin tight and form fitting with a pair of shoes to match. Her hair done nice and right, curled to perfection and makeup flawless. It was certainly one of those times when she went all out, it was a night of celebration, an anniversary of their union together. As in, joining the school, locking eyes for the first time, their secret loves for each other..

Dinner for two. And afterwards? Nature would take it's course and the celebration would continue with something fun. Pool and a dive bar and greasy burgers that are so damn delicious your stomach just HURTS after eating it.

The night was filled with fancy dinners.. dancing.. light conversation…

…Then nothing.


A roar echoes across the jungle landscape; the sky seemingly turned red by blood that falls upon the jungle floor. The ground quakes soon after, the loud thump, thump of heavy footfalls started slow, picking up in speed to the sound of a beating drum.

"Scott!" Jean cries out, holding onto her arm that suffered a massive cut, razor rows of three down the top of her arm which was clutched to and held on for life as the crimson leaks through her fingers. The white dress she wore was no longer white, the expensive heels that were no doubt borrowed from Betsy's old wardrobe were cracked, heel torn asunder and possibly tossed to use as a projectile against a beast that chases her. Another roar is heard, Jean stops long enough to look back.. the Rex caught up to her fast and with a raise of her arms to shield herself from the next blow…

Scott Summers runs behind her, shirtless, his shoes in a shambles. His well-pressed trousers are ragged at the cuff and stained with his own blood, his own wounds evidence in scrapes along his arms, his abdomen. Thorns sticking jaggedly from his arm from tearing through the underbrush. Still, he's finally caught up to her, and just in time.

"JEAN!" he calls, then lifts his eyes and unleashes, his visor expanding to allow his power to pour forth. He hits the T-rex right in the roof of the mouth, knocking it backward and giving it a solid case of whiplash as he grabs a hold of Jean's wrist, "Keep moving. There's a cavern behind the waterfall up ahead," he says. He'd been trying to scout a secure location away from their camp when he'd heard the roar in the distance and felt Jean's psychic distress.


The Rex, unable to use his arms to grasp at the concussive spot that hurts, rears back and falls to the ground with a thud. It kicks up a lot of dust, but it wasn't anything that they couldn't manage, the telekinetic shield bursting up at the right moment to shield them from the debris of fallen trees that begin to crumble under the weight of the Rex, that splinters outward in deadly spikes that bounces off the weakened shield.

They've been up for days. Always on the move, filled with adrenaline and no sleep. The only good thing about the savage land is that a few parts of this torrid jungle has water that's as pure as a baby's laughter.

She follows along, obviously scared.. pissed, angry. The questions still lingered in the air but the fight and flight didn't let her ask. Just how did they get there.. How did this happen.. who could have gotten past Scott's sharp and tactical mind and her own psychic defenses.. Something was wrong. Obviously wrong.

Scott Summers was more concerned with the practical - how to get out, how to get home, how to keep them alive. The other answers could come in time but, at the moment, they didn't have any clues and the local flora and fauna were a bit too hostile to permit leisurely investigation.

He leads her down a loping trail through some thick, verdant jungle until they make their way to a roaring waterfall, "This way," he says, guiding her along into the shadows at the edge of the pouring water, the both of them likely to get drenched as he walks them through and into the cavern beneath…


A scream rips through the television again as Jean finally goes through the tapes of her conditioning as Alpha. The rapid turn was something. She remembered Nate questioning it all but she wanted to ignore it. Ignore the fact that he was right.

"Jean." Charles murmurs as he sits along side of her, not really needing to say words but, he was there. And it was a good thing, she needed to hear something else other than the sounds of the men upon the screen and her own cries.

"I know." She lets out a sigh, popping up from her own chair to move towards the coffee table, the tea set out in a sort of an arrangement that she begins to assemble the drinks for the two. And sugar cookies. Sugar cookies always makes things better. "This was something that I didn't want to keep from you forever, Professor."

The bald man nods, not a smile touching his face to show the levity of the situation. "Until you were ready."

"Yes. It was like a violation. That other personality inside of me. Those feelings came from somewhere."

"Abandonment, perhaps?" He asks, wheeling his mechanical chair closer to the table, stopping short just from bumping it.

"Rage. Anger. Self hate.."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of.. Jean."


The shoes were finally let go and discarded. If Elizabeth saw them right now she possibly would have gotten a dagger to the brain, after a much needed hug and crying over a tub of sorbet. She trips up just a little, careful where she walks, her arm starting to swell slightly as the moments past which has her switching hands with Scott to move to his other side to prevent him from being immoble. The water was a godsend, and she lingers a few moments too long, the dress clinging to her body wetly, the dirt slowly rinsing from her arm as well as the blood, her hair wet but steaming just a little to combat the sweltering heat. It was a dry place for now, in the middle of the summer.. though she does allow her mind to wander and dream of a fabled jungle landscape covered in a blanket of snow..

Scott scouted around and check the perimeter and the interior. There were signs of habitation, but old, cobwebs and dust showing them to be long absent. Human, as well, which meant they weren't the only people in this forsaken place, even if they had yet to see any others, "Do you sense any other minds, Jean?" he asks. His voice is gentle, he doesn't want to push her.

He quickly uses a flint rock he finds, striking it a few times and setting alight some of the dry brush in the little firepit deeper in. The illumination reveals scrawled drawings on the walls of the cave - monsters and people and a great face on the sun. And a thing that is a man and a monster, with great wings and sharp teeth, that flies above them all.

"What the hell is this place? Have we gone back in time?"

Jean finally lets go of his hand as she finds a perch to rest upon, her back was aching from the constant use of muscles, her feet slightly blistered from the run. Everything ached, and it felt good to find a moment of pure peace. "Any other minds?" She asks, waking from her small reverie with a slight glance. "Give me a moment. I'm a little tired.."

She slides down the rock some to settle upon the ground, her back pressed, eyes closing, body soon shivering due to the cool air that runs through the cavern and the water that remains upon her skin. But the shivers, it felt good. And so did the fire that was soon struck, one that she could have made in due time, but not now.

His words draw her eyes to open again, her hand pressing against the ground to draw herself up, limping into his direction with a slight frown.. which soon turns into a scowl. "I don't know." She confesses. "But this place is unlike -anything- we've ever seen."

"Could we be in the congos? Somewhere in Africa?"

Scott Summers shakes his head, "The vegetation doesn't make any sense. South America's closer, but the weather's all wrong. Not to mention the sky. I couldn't get any sense of the stars overnight. It seems like we're probably in some sort of valley? The dinosaurs, though…pretty obvious you don't find those much of anywhere," he sighs.

"Come, sit by the fire, warm up a little," he says, seeing that Jean's soaked to the bone.

"I'm willing to ignore that fact for now if you are." Jean lightly murmurs, a little smile upon her face as her fingers dig into the dress, tearing off a clean row so that she could draw herself close to the fire. As she sits, she wraps the bandage around her arm, her eyes gone up towards Scott to offer up her arm so that he could tie her binds tighter..


"I know that. But you taught us to be careful." Jean says in mild protest. "You taught us to always be mindful and to check our surroundings and double check, especially since we are the way we are now and damn there out in the open."

The two cups of tea were soon placed upon the table, Jean leaving hers without the sugar for now, the cookie picked up and bitten contemplatively. Her eyes lift towards the door, just as soon as Charles' does. There was a faint knock upon the door, as Jean lifts her hand to swing a bit of her gift in that direction to open it part way.

"It's just Scott."

"I know." Charles muses, leaning forward to assemble his own tea for once with careful ease and practice. "I have a special bond with him as much as I do with you."

Scott Summers takes the strips and moves to bind up her wounds, lacing the fabric around and around her arm until the cut is covered. "The water seems okay, although I'd like to find a way to boil it before we drink. Rain is one thing, but who knows what's fouled itself in this river?" he says. He leans in and kisses her shoulder as he finishes tying off, the fabric blossoming crimson as it absorbs the leaking wound.

"For now, you should try and rest. I'll take watch, give you a chance to see if you can get enough energy to probe further for anybody else here…" he says.

"I know.." Jean murmurs. "I think it's our constitution and what we eat on a daily basis that doesn't allow for us to properly digest something so pure." Yes, a quiet throwback to their first hours here. Hungry, thirsty.. one sip and everything was horrible for a few hours. But it was much needed, delicious.

Jean stares at the wall, slipping close to Scott as she angles herself downward to lay her head within his lap. She was tired, the prospect of no sleep was something she wanted to avoid. And if they both needed to make it out of this place alive.. where ever and what ever time they were in.. they needed to be sound.

"I want to go home, Scott.." She tiredly murmurs, her eyes soon closing..

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