OOC: Log Dump
I'll write a Jean-journal later, but I wanted to get this last log in particular up inna hurry. The Leah Saga can be found on xmm_alyssa, xmm_pyro and xmm_leah's journals, so I can be lazy. :)
X-Men MUCK - Monday, June 13, 2005, 2:58 PM
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< NYC > The Daily Grind - Emerson University
Perhaps one of the most popular places to congregate in the student center, the cafe on the second floor nevertheless seems to be relatively uncrowded at any given point in the day. Numerous windows on the far wall allow sunlight to stream in across the classic, black-and-white checkerboard floor and the various art nouveau pieces displayed on the wall. An abundance of potted greenery lends the room a slight conservatory feel, as well. A plethora of small tables and chairs painted white are set up about the area, blending into a lounge of old sofas and a fireplace at the far end. Up front, someone is always ready behind the counter to provide students with their daily doses of caffeine and comfort pastry foods.
[Exits : [H]allway ]
While rather uncrowded compared to the rest of the campus, Emerson's cafe is more full than usual, and not really with college students, either. But that happens with summer camps. So in addition to your normal summer class-takers, you've got your high schoolers and a few middle schoolers too. Tyanna is rather in the middle of it all, sitting at a small table by herself off to the side, sipping on a mocha latte and skimming through some papers that look legal. Her hair is now completely black, brown contacts on over her red eyes. She does look rather different.
There are also grad students. And while Jean is actually enrolled in Harvard's PhD program, (Albeit with some special string being pulled due to special circumstance.) Emerson still posesses a few professors of molecular biology that she needs to talk to. One such meeting successfully concluded, Jean's appeared in the coffee shop to refuel and recaffeinate before the drive back to Westchester. Engrossed in a copy of a thesis she'd been handed, and balancing a large triangle of brownie atop the coffee mug in the other hand, she settles at a table next door to Tyanna's without a clue as to whom she's sat beside.
Ooh, brownies. Tyanna's nose for chocolate immediately alerts her that there is a large amount nearby, and when she turns to look, guess who she sees. A small smirk twists her mouth upward, and she stays silent for a minute or so, going back to her own papers. But the letter soon loses her interest, and she decides to bite the bullet, so to speak. "Afternoon, Dr. Grey." she says, loud enough to be heard by Jean but not the entire room.
Jean's head pops up from her reading at that greeting, and the look she turns on Tyanna is one that fails to recognize her for a time. While Jean has the younger woman pegged within a second or two, she allows the look to continue as a placeholder as she decides exactly how she wants to play this. She settles on outward ignorance and innocence, and with that, smiles with realization. "Afternoon, Tyanna," she greets. "I didn't recognize you with the makeover there."
Tyanna isn't at all surprised that Jean doesn't recognize her right away. Most of the Hellions didn't when she came home, either. Lifting up a lock of hair so the light hits it, the faintest sheen of red can still be seen in it. "A girl's got to grow up sometime, I suppose." Tyanna doesn't seem angry or unhappy to see the good Doctor. "I am a little surprised to see you here. Didn't think you'd be taking any classes at Emerson."
"Oh, I'm not, actually, just having a meeting with Professor Mayfield" Jean assures with another smile, this one coming more easily as it appears that Tyanna's not found any particular reason to be angry with her. Or worse, feel threatened. "I always thought the red streaks worked well with your personality," she offers about the hair, with a touch of a wistful, nostalgic tone. "But I suppose the working world might think you were one of those no-good punk kids."
Tyanna nods. "The biology prof. Right." She knows vaguely who most of the professors in the sciences department are, being a forensics major. Nodding, she takes a deep breath. "It makes it easier for me to get around. I did like the streaks, but my hair hasn't been this color since I was fifteen. It's interesting having it black again." Tyanna wisely shuts up as a group of kids passes, then starts talking again. "I hear the school's classes are out for the summer."
"Mmmhmm." Jean confirms, around a bite of brownie. She crumbles off a generous piece from the non-bitten end and offers it to Tyanna. "The Graduates' Ball was this weekend, and there's a new crop of students off to go face the world. Jubilee's staying back to help teach gym while she figures out what she wants to do, though. John, well," The redhead snorts softly at the thought of Pyro. "I imagine we'll probably be eating his dust."
"In more ways than one, I'm sure." Tyanna responds in regards to John, accepting the brownie piece and munching on it. "Probably just as well you're not turning Jubilee loose. I'm not sure New York City could handle her and John rampaging through it at the same time." While teasingly spoken, a perceptive person could pick up on the tinge of bitterness there. "So any of the others sticking around? I talk to Jareth every once in a while, but it's hard to get him to talk about anything but his robo-kitty."
Jean is rather unfairly perceptive, and her answering nod to Tyanna holds a bit of understanding to it. "I think he's going to be trying for work as a journalist," she offers to her aloud. "Which means he'll probably be in the city. You should look him up," she suggests, before chuckling a bit at the comment about Jareth. "Him and Circe. I really think I should set him up on a date before he starts thinking of proposing to the robo-beastie. And I know Rogue's going to TA for me, and Piotr's come back as staff, now that he's got a couple years of college in. I'm dating Scott again, and Scott's younger brother Alex is also signed on as teaching staff."
Tyanna neglects to mention that she and Jareth are probably about to start dating, but that's something that might meet with disapproval on both the X and Hellion fronts. "You could, but knowing Jareth, he'd probably resent any matchmaking." she says mildly, sipping at her latte. "I heard about Alex a while ago...ran into Scott on campus. Asked him if Alex was going to teach surfing or board waxing, and I don't think he appreciated the question." A dry smile touches the pyromancer's lips.
Considering that Jareth doesn't know what Tyanna does in her free time, it'd be rather unfair of Jean to fuss at him about it. "Mm, fair enough," she agrees, draining rapidly through her plain black coffee. "And no, probably not, but he's a little looser than Scott is, so I'm sure he's probably fine."
Tyanna waves a hand negligently. "I'm sure he'll do fine. I just wanted to tease Scott about it. It's so rare that I can pick on him and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it. I didn't used to be able to do that." A flicker of the mischevious girl that ran rampant at Xavier's comes back for a moment, but it disappears quickly. "That'd be kinda fun, being a teacher. But I'm destined to be a corporate rat, it seems."
"Scott's growing, just like the rest of us," replies Jean, finishing off her coffee in short order, and giving Tyanna a smile. "Well, I've got to get back to the school on the hill, but just remember that destiny's what you make of it. If you ever decide you'd like to teach, I'm sure we could find a place for you."
Tyanna doesn't miss the significance of what Jean says, even though she had no idea Jean knows what she does. "I doubt that I could really fit into the whole school idea, but I appreciate the offer." she returns, giving her former teacher a smile and small wave as she turns back to her letter and drink.
X-Men MUCK - Thursday, June 16, 2005, 6:49 PM
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<< XS >> Patio
The patio is a mixture of grades of cobblestone, flanked with a few flowering bushes and other flora along the outside edges. Its footprint is in the space between the wings of the mansion where the glass walls of the arboretum leave off. A grill and picnic table rests to the side, just under the ledge of the house's roof. The area just outside the kitchen leads to a large pool area. Landscaped with slate around the edges instead of poured concrete, the pool is sloped with both a shallow end and deep end with enough depth for a diving board. Chairs and white chaise lounges line along the pool, and a hammock is strung up between two maple trees.
[Exits : [K]itchen ]
[Players : James ]
When one's giving a tour of a school to a member of New York's finest, finishing up on the back patio where an impromptu barbeque is in progress seems a sensible idea. No need for the high-brow Xavier china here, just an inquiry of "You aren't vegetarian, are you, Detective Archer?" as Jean guides herself and her guest over to a free pair of lounge chairs. "And since we're a school, I'm afraid all we've got is beer of the root variety, but it should be cold if you want one."
James says, "This is indeed a fine school! Hell I wish I would of had something like this when I was growin up, I'm sure my grades would have been much better." He chuckles and indeed takes the seat that is offered to him, and sighs with a bit of relief. The altercation with Eric had only bruised his ankle and banged up his ribs. He was lucky indeed to even still be able to walk. "Though I'm sure I wouldn't have been accepted, seeing as how I ain't gifted and all." He calmly reaches for his cigarette, but stops and instead goes for his gum. When you can't smoke, juicy fruit does nicely. "Hey! Nothing wrong with root beer. Besides you can't make an ice cream float with the regular stuff."
"Oh, that's not true, James. We've got a few students who aren't mutants, but whose older siblings or younger siblings were, or whose parents work here," Jean allows with a smile, and a call for one of the students cheerfully doing cannonballs into the pool to go and fetch them two bottles of root beer. She picks up her conversation where she left off with a slight, lazy toss of her head. "Once, we had a pair of fraternal twins who just didn't feel like going to separate schools. Admittedly, our primary goal is to educate young mutants, since there's no other place specifically catering to that, but if we were letting them grow up with only other mutants around, well, that's a bit of a skewed worldview they'd get. And for the non-mutants kids, it's good for -them- to realize first hand that we're all people, and they aren't inferior or superior."
James blinks as he takes the root beer, "Really?! I didn't know that? So you've managed to cut out your own utopia out here hmm?" Oh geez didn't that sound bad. He clears his throat and opens the rootbeer taking a long swig from it. It's been a while since he's had rootbeer, hell he might have to go and pick up a six pack later. "So how does one manage to get into the school for the gifted? You don't advertise that your here, and rightly good that you don't. I think those Friends clowns would love a chance to come here and cause some serious trouble."
Jean snorts at that, apparently not inclined to take offense. "Utopia? When there are this many teenagers wandering around? And we're down by half the student body since it's summer break, no less. No, no utopia," she shakes her head, uncapping her own bottle of rootbeer and taking a thoughtful sip. "Just a little haven while they all find their wings. Literally, in a couple cases. Warren Worthington was a schoolmate of mine," she recounts with a nostalgic grin. "-Not- so much of an angel then. As for advertising, it's twofold. One, the mutant community knows about us. I have my name and number out at places like The Sanctuary," which she's assumign James knows about. "Two, we've got our own network. Given that I'm involved in research and activism, Professor Xavier in philanthropy and his own research in the past, and Dr. Moira MacTaggart's a close colleague, as well as Dr. Henry McCoy, quite often people come to us, or we hear about them."
James chuckles, "Ah, so you have a lot of out of control hormones and such, yea? All those times as a kid I wish I had x-ray vision and now some kid out there does. Lucky devil." On that note James takes another sip of his root beer. "Sounds like you have a full crew of people here Miss Grey, but I still worry." He pauses setting the bottle on the table, "With the recent death of this mutant there has been a lot of turmoil in the city right now. I know there is going to be more violence, so do me a favor. Tell your kids to be safe okay? I would hate to have to.. " He coughs, "...pick some little kid outta an alley way because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time." James was getting a little upset. Seems he's done that already, maybe a few to many times.
Jean's hand rests briefly on James' forearm, long enough to let him feel simple human contact, but not long enough to give the wrong impression. "I once had to do an autopsy on one of my students," she reveals. "Those are images I'll have with me to my dying day. I understand." There's a long meditative pause while she stares into the brown glass of the root beer bottle, before finding her thread to start again. "Yeah. We tell them. We send them all out with panic buttons that will call the faculty in to go get them. We tell them to use the buddy system, that their curfew is there for a reason... incidentally, remind me to talk to you another time about some of the faculty."
James exhales softly feeling a little better thanks to Jean's touch. This simple act brought him out of his slump he was feeling and tries to cheer up. "You know Miss Grey. I'll take a quote from my daughter.." He smirks, "Sometimes it sucks being an adult." He reaches for his root beer, "Well if they are anything like you I'm sure we'll get along great. After all you are an intelligent young woman.." Oh that came out bad. "Well just have them avoid the park if they can for now, well the more secluded areas." James is quick to change the subject. "You know Mister Lensherr was pretty interested about what was going to be done about the Friends. Though I think I upset him when I lectured him about how he's dealing with thing." He smirks, "I told him that he isn't helping. People fear mutants because of what they can do. Now thanks to him, they fear what they might become. Which are terrorists... and he didn't like that one bit."
"I'm only about six years younger than you, detective," Jean points out dryly, having apparently read over a couple of dossiers here and there. "Although I'll take that as a compliment. So, avoid secluded areas of the park, because it's no longer young gay men in the shadows, it's violent young men who might be overcompensating for something," Although the comment -could- be taken as flip, the too old quality of her green eyes puts the lie to any real humour in the statement. Although a little of it comes back at the mention of "And how -is- my former algebra professor these days? Still stuck in the delusion that this is Nazi germany, and mutants are the new jews?"
James chuckles playfully, "I thought that was taboo telling a man your age Miss Grey? Like it was some unwritten law that all women follow." Oh he liked her, if everyone else was like her this would be great! The comment she makes about the park causes him to laugh, "Well there are still a few like that, though they do keep to themselves. And mostly it's just a case of uhmm being unable to wait until they get home." He coughs at his own comment, "Algebra professor?! I had no idea that you and he knew each other." Hmm something new learned every day. "And I believe so. What I didn't tell him was that because of all the Friends activity. There is a special task force being created to try and capture these clowns."
"I'm unorthodox, what can I say?" Jean grins. "Admittedly, having an ex-boyfriend who was around 120 as near as we could figure while looking 35 is pretty good for making a girl feel permanently young, but that's another story, and I can see you're more interested in my relationship with Erik Lensherr." she changes the topic easily enough, recieving a plate with a hamburger on it while a second one is delivered to the detective. "The simplest answer is that he and Charles Xavier founded this school, I was their first student, and in 1987, they had a massive falling-out because Charles favoured Martin Luther King's approach to social change, and Erik, Holocaust survivor watching his -other- people become marginalized and vilified again, felt that Malcolm X was a better model to follow. Peace versus war, and we're for peace. I've only spoken with him a handful of times since then, usually when he's gotten lonely or guilty or bored, and has found me in a public place where there are too many innocents and potential hostages around for me to make a scene."
James takes the hamburger and nods, "Well sounds to me like you've had an interesting life Miss Grey. Far more interesting than mine that's for sure." Ah meat, finally some real food. "Anything's better than hospital food!" James takes a rather large bite, the juice dripping onto his shirt. What's he care, he got leave thanks to Magneto. Though he isn't a complete slob, waiting to finish with his bit before speaking again. "Well some of the cops are like that. Some don't care, some want to help, and others just think that mutants are a problem and need to be handled.." Yeah that made him uncomfortable, "So Miss Grey maybe you and me could get together for dinner or something sometime? See a show?" Oh that was just uncalled for! James quickly recovers and glances at his watch. "Ah. uhm I'm sorry Miss Grey... I uhm..Maybe I should go. I think I've over stayed my welcome.."
"If I was still single, I'd take you up on that in a heartbeat, detective," Jean makes her let-down a nice one, complete with a quick grin. "You're a good man, and I literally -can- sense these things. But I think my boyfriend would be sad if I started seeing shows with other men, even if it's like pulling teeth to drag him to one, so we should probably behave ourselves." With that handled, she digs into her own burger with the usual intensity of an omega telepath for food, and the grace that's a product of her raising. "I'll drive you back into the city once you've had something to eat. Lennox Hill's got some of the best doctors on the planet, but their catering staff should be arrested for cruelty."
X-Men MUCK - Friday, June 17, 2005, 12:28 PM
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<< XS >> Jean's Room - Lv3
Large and airy this end of the hall room; the door from the hallway bisects one wall. To the right, an office area complete with overstuffed bookshelves and a desk with computer, docking stations for peripherals, and piles of papers both research and student. To the left, privacy screens in black lacquered wood and white rice paper enclose a sleeping area containing a bedside table and lamp, and a double futon with many pillows and an addictively comfortable duvet. The outer wall features two bay windows with cushioned window seats on either side of a small fieldstone fireplace. An oriental rug stands in front of the hearth, with a small cream coloured sofa perfectly placed for a quiet evening in. There are two additional rugs in the sleeping and office areas, otherwise the parquet floor is bare. Walls hung with gray-blue wallpaper and with acccents in black and white, the simple empty space allows for both visual and mental tranquility, aided and abetted by candles scattered about on black worked-metal stands. A door on the left wall leads to a fairly nice bathroom, and a matching one on the right opens into a large walk-in closet.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
Jean's door is very firmly closed, but any jealous mutterings about monkey business are rather swiftly proved wrong if one could see within. Tea for two is set out on Jean's coffee table, along with a small but expected cheesecake, the remains of a strawberry trifle the kids had gotten into, and predictable plates and cutlery. Jean's comfortable on one end of her sofa, her fluffy calico cat purring on her lap and eyeing the cheesecake meditatively.
Contrary to popular heresay, despite his natural plumage Warren has always rather liked cats.. and for thier part, felines have displayed no urge to try and pounce or devour him. Lucky that. With a genuine smile curling his own lips, Warren is slicing his own contribution to this delectable snack: fresh strawberries, a bit early in the season, he must admit, but still.. "So.. how was your week? he asks with bemused irony."
One could of course suggest that angels are fond of all of God's creatures. Jean lazily ruffles behind Curie's ears and gives a smile at the strawberries. "Quite a find, those." she pronounces, before giving a dry grin to the question. "Interesting," she decides. "In the ancient oriental curse sense of the word. Yours?"
"Very much the same," Warren replies to the latter first. "Had'nt you heard? Flowers bloom under my touch now, and the fruits of the vine ripen with my smile-" he quips with downplayed theatrics, one of the described smiles growing in depth upon his countenance, as he shares the grin with Jean. The sliced berries are littered liberally over the cheesecake, a few slices kept apart. "How swiftly do we wish to ruin the afternoon?" he asks, in regards to 'Interesting times'..
"Good," deadpans Jean with a wave towards a potted plant in one sunlit corner of the room. "My miniature citrus over there is looking a little bit peaky, could you..." She twiddles her fingers in a fixing gesture and then breaks the expression with a chuckle. "Regardless of their genesis, those strawberries are just the thing needed. And as for ruined afternoons, if it's to be ruined anyways, I say we strike swift and sure and console ourself with dessert as needed."
"Here here.." he acclaims her statement with an apprving nod, before stating simply and without further ado: "Stryker had come into possession of experimental mutant detection technology, and a rather advanced program was in development for autonomous neutralizing measures. Thick slice, or thin?"
"Oh... thick, please." Jean replies, tone a trifle absent as she considers the ramifications of what Warren's just shared with her, eyes focused on a spot in the air two feet in front of the terrestrial angel's nose and her hands passing over the plates by rote. "Autonomous neutralizing measures. Remote hunter drones, in other words, or are we talking full-fledges AI?"
The predictably requested depth of dessert is prepared and proffered. "Initially the first. The various technologies are still being refined, so full integration is still a ways off as of now, but drones could be prototyped relatively soon. Though unless I mistake-" by his tone, Warren does'nt consider that likely, "It's with an eye towards eventually crafting a full AI. At least a decade off, though.. at the earliest. Sugar?" he asks, once the cheesecake is placed upon her plate, glancing after an instant to the teapot and cups.
"No thanks, just black." Jean replies, picking up the plate of cheese cake offered to her and cradling it like a child with a favourite comforting toy, but not picking up her fork until Warren's served himself. "Well, Stryker was rotting in the cell next to yours when we fetched you, and we used up our own free surprise attack on the island with that retrieval, so I doubt he's getting out any time soon. But if you've got the information, clearly it's out in the open where other eyes can concievably see it..."
Warren nods absently, as he slices off his own piece of confection. "Indeed. Erik was prevented from acquiring it, for which I'm *profoundly* relieved.. but yes. It must still be considered to be available to certaion parties. William Stryker is not the problem, just the symptom.. We still don't know where these other research facilities are located, nor are they operating within the proper channels of influence-" Meaning that Roger Lowe can do nothing about them, even were he aware of them.. which he isn't.
If he were aware of them, Jean would be sweeping down to D.C. like Boudicca upon London. She considers her cheesecake, far more manageable problem that it is, and makes a primary incision to cross-section off the tip of the slice. "There are only a small number of military-based corporations that would have the resources to pull off the things required by this project," she notes, her own views of finance far more tactical and simple than those of her friend, who's not merely immersed in the hydra, he's a few of the heads. "And the genetech and biotech needed... those are fairly small too. It wouldn't surprise me if we found Nathaniel Essex down one of the biological roads."
"Wherever it came from, the advances have reached the point wherein any facility of sufficient innovation- Which while far from common, are much less rare than we might like- could continue this program." A tersely released breath, the first hints of a frown, drawing his blonde brows nearer together, as he follows the good doctor's example, and takes the tip of his own dessert onto the tines of his fork. "Perhaps most troubling of all.. I can't say when the first hunter drones might appear. They could have been under construction already.. I wish I could leave this off with the knowledge that our acquiring this cut the program off, but I can't."
"It seems to me..." Jean muses, tapping her now-emptied fork thoughtfully against her lips. "That even if the pool of possible companies is larger than we might like, the sort of highly refined materials needed to make drones have an even more limited number of producers. A little looking around," What a quaint name for 'industrial espionage'! "might turn up the beginnings of a paper trail. You have theoretical schematics?" she wonders.
"The initial proposed structure, yes.. Inclusive of suitably mobile power sources, and required high grade fiber optic interfaces.. Rather rare, those," he adds with an appreciative smirk tugging at his less than angelic lips. "My dear Miss Grey," he adds, smirk broadening, "You are growing dangerously near to becoming devious." Another bite of his cheesecake after that little compliment is paid.
"I've always been what I am," Jean twinkles at Warren, flicking her fork at him before taking another bite of dessert. "I've just never been given a reason to show it." Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the horror of the project they're opposing, there -is- a certain delight in testing one's skills. "Portable high draw power sources in the US... where have I... just a moment," she excuses herself, rising and being followed by her hovering tea and cheesecake as she absently wanders over to her workspace and fires up her desktop. "I was doing some standard investigation into some public holdings for some people, and I know I came across a company that makes those."
Warren laughs quietly to himself.. plucking up his own tea and cake to follow after the studious lady. Not terribly good at relaxing at times, these two. Standing behind Jean's chair, and setting down his tea cup at a safe distance, Warren braces one hand on the desk, and leans over Jean's shoulder to share her scrutiny. "There were also notes made inquiring after the availability of metallurgically clean power sources.. *That* should narrow it down," he notes with another smirk.
News reports and text documents and Excel files march across the flat screen of the monitor, opening up in a quickly-flicking cascade that speaks of some serious amounts of RAM and a system in general that's so hardcore the more tech-centric members of the student body would be falling over outside of Jean's bedroom door if they knew the machine lived here. Jean, meanwhile, merely expects nothing less, and therefore gets what she expects. "Hah!" she announces, pointing triumphantly at a news headline regarding just one such power source company from just that morning. A very familiar name peers innocuously out from the screen: Sebastian Shaw. "God," Jean quotes intensely. "Hath delivered him into my hand."
Somewhere on the muck, Molly has disconnected.
"Beautiful," Warren notes with a tight smile, the sceen reflected in miniature in Warren's blue eyes. "And good work on the computer as well," he notes, with just a bit of rakish humor. The wheels are spinning, and how how they turn. Sebastian's contracts.. his impending involvement with the Friends of Humanity (even if it was'nt his notion in the first place..) and now connection, even in a roundabout way, to the disgraced William Stryker. << Oh, Mister Shaw had best mind his step... else he might slip through those fingers of yours, my dear Miss Grey. >>
Jean snorts a huntress's laugh. << I think I'll just have to let my fingers close ever so carefully about him, then. >> she replies, before plucking her teacup out of the air and taking a triumphant sip. "Scott's going to hate this, you know," she replies musingly, images of cultivating Shaw shared between them. "But when things are lined up so neatly... it's a sin in my personal theology not to take advantage of an opportunity to do good. I've booked a riding lesson for Shaw with his secretary... I think things could bear fruit, if we keep ever so randomly meeting up."
X-Men MUCK - Monday, June 13, 2005, 2:58 PM
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< NYC > The Daily Grind - Emerson University
Perhaps one of the most popular places to congregate in the student center, the cafe on the second floor nevertheless seems to be relatively uncrowded at any given point in the day. Numerous windows on the far wall allow sunlight to stream in across the classic, black-and-white checkerboard floor and the various art nouveau pieces displayed on the wall. An abundance of potted greenery lends the room a slight conservatory feel, as well. A plethora of small tables and chairs painted white are set up about the area, blending into a lounge of old sofas and a fireplace at the far end. Up front, someone is always ready behind the counter to provide students with their daily doses of caffeine and comfort pastry foods.
[Exits : [H]allway ]
While rather uncrowded compared to the rest of the campus, Emerson's cafe is more full than usual, and not really with college students, either. But that happens with summer camps. So in addition to your normal summer class-takers, you've got your high schoolers and a few middle schoolers too. Tyanna is rather in the middle of it all, sitting at a small table by herself off to the side, sipping on a mocha latte and skimming through some papers that look legal. Her hair is now completely black, brown contacts on over her red eyes. She does look rather different.
There are also grad students. And while Jean is actually enrolled in Harvard's PhD program, (Albeit with some special string being pulled due to special circumstance.) Emerson still posesses a few professors of molecular biology that she needs to talk to. One such meeting successfully concluded, Jean's appeared in the coffee shop to refuel and recaffeinate before the drive back to Westchester. Engrossed in a copy of a thesis she'd been handed, and balancing a large triangle of brownie atop the coffee mug in the other hand, she settles at a table next door to Tyanna's without a clue as to whom she's sat beside.
Ooh, brownies. Tyanna's nose for chocolate immediately alerts her that there is a large amount nearby, and when she turns to look, guess who she sees. A small smirk twists her mouth upward, and she stays silent for a minute or so, going back to her own papers. But the letter soon loses her interest, and she decides to bite the bullet, so to speak. "Afternoon, Dr. Grey." she says, loud enough to be heard by Jean but not the entire room.
Jean's head pops up from her reading at that greeting, and the look she turns on Tyanna is one that fails to recognize her for a time. While Jean has the younger woman pegged within a second or two, she allows the look to continue as a placeholder as she decides exactly how she wants to play this. She settles on outward ignorance and innocence, and with that, smiles with realization. "Afternoon, Tyanna," she greets. "I didn't recognize you with the makeover there."
Tyanna isn't at all surprised that Jean doesn't recognize her right away. Most of the Hellions didn't when she came home, either. Lifting up a lock of hair so the light hits it, the faintest sheen of red can still be seen in it. "A girl's got to grow up sometime, I suppose." Tyanna doesn't seem angry or unhappy to see the good Doctor. "I am a little surprised to see you here. Didn't think you'd be taking any classes at Emerson."
"Oh, I'm not, actually, just having a meeting with Professor Mayfield" Jean assures with another smile, this one coming more easily as it appears that Tyanna's not found any particular reason to be angry with her. Or worse, feel threatened. "I always thought the red streaks worked well with your personality," she offers about the hair, with a touch of a wistful, nostalgic tone. "But I suppose the working world might think you were one of those no-good punk kids."
Tyanna nods. "The biology prof. Right." She knows vaguely who most of the professors in the sciences department are, being a forensics major. Nodding, she takes a deep breath. "It makes it easier for me to get around. I did like the streaks, but my hair hasn't been this color since I was fifteen. It's interesting having it black again." Tyanna wisely shuts up as a group of kids passes, then starts talking again. "I hear the school's classes are out for the summer."
"Mmmhmm." Jean confirms, around a bite of brownie. She crumbles off a generous piece from the non-bitten end and offers it to Tyanna. "The Graduates' Ball was this weekend, and there's a new crop of students off to go face the world. Jubilee's staying back to help teach gym while she figures out what she wants to do, though. John, well," The redhead snorts softly at the thought of Pyro. "I imagine we'll probably be eating his dust."
"In more ways than one, I'm sure." Tyanna responds in regards to John, accepting the brownie piece and munching on it. "Probably just as well you're not turning Jubilee loose. I'm not sure New York City could handle her and John rampaging through it at the same time." While teasingly spoken, a perceptive person could pick up on the tinge of bitterness there. "So any of the others sticking around? I talk to Jareth every once in a while, but it's hard to get him to talk about anything but his robo-kitty."
Jean is rather unfairly perceptive, and her answering nod to Tyanna holds a bit of understanding to it. "I think he's going to be trying for work as a journalist," she offers to her aloud. "Which means he'll probably be in the city. You should look him up," she suggests, before chuckling a bit at the comment about Jareth. "Him and Circe. I really think I should set him up on a date before he starts thinking of proposing to the robo-beastie. And I know Rogue's going to TA for me, and Piotr's come back as staff, now that he's got a couple years of college in. I'm dating Scott again, and Scott's younger brother Alex is also signed on as teaching staff."
Tyanna neglects to mention that she and Jareth are probably about to start dating, but that's something that might meet with disapproval on both the X and Hellion fronts. "You could, but knowing Jareth, he'd probably resent any matchmaking." she says mildly, sipping at her latte. "I heard about Alex a while ago...ran into Scott on campus. Asked him if Alex was going to teach surfing or board waxing, and I don't think he appreciated the question." A dry smile touches the pyromancer's lips.
Considering that Jareth doesn't know what Tyanna does in her free time, it'd be rather unfair of Jean to fuss at him about it. "Mm, fair enough," she agrees, draining rapidly through her plain black coffee. "And no, probably not, but he's a little looser than Scott is, so I'm sure he's probably fine."
Tyanna waves a hand negligently. "I'm sure he'll do fine. I just wanted to tease Scott about it. It's so rare that I can pick on him and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it. I didn't used to be able to do that." A flicker of the mischevious girl that ran rampant at Xavier's comes back for a moment, but it disappears quickly. "That'd be kinda fun, being a teacher. But I'm destined to be a corporate rat, it seems."
"Scott's growing, just like the rest of us," replies Jean, finishing off her coffee in short order, and giving Tyanna a smile. "Well, I've got to get back to the school on the hill, but just remember that destiny's what you make of it. If you ever decide you'd like to teach, I'm sure we could find a place for you."
Tyanna doesn't miss the significance of what Jean says, even though she had no idea Jean knows what she does. "I doubt that I could really fit into the whole school idea, but I appreciate the offer." she returns, giving her former teacher a smile and small wave as she turns back to her letter and drink.
X-Men MUCK - Thursday, June 16, 2005, 6:49 PM
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<< XS >> Patio
The patio is a mixture of grades of cobblestone, flanked with a few flowering bushes and other flora along the outside edges. Its footprint is in the space between the wings of the mansion where the glass walls of the arboretum leave off. A grill and picnic table rests to the side, just under the ledge of the house's roof. The area just outside the kitchen leads to a large pool area. Landscaped with slate around the edges instead of poured concrete, the pool is sloped with both a shallow end and deep end with enough depth for a diving board. Chairs and white chaise lounges line along the pool, and a hammock is strung up between two maple trees.
[Exits : [K]itchen ]
[Players : James ]
When one's giving a tour of a school to a member of New York's finest, finishing up on the back patio where an impromptu barbeque is in progress seems a sensible idea. No need for the high-brow Xavier china here, just an inquiry of "You aren't vegetarian, are you, Detective Archer?" as Jean guides herself and her guest over to a free pair of lounge chairs. "And since we're a school, I'm afraid all we've got is beer of the root variety, but it should be cold if you want one."
James says, "This is indeed a fine school! Hell I wish I would of had something like this when I was growin up, I'm sure my grades would have been much better." He chuckles and indeed takes the seat that is offered to him, and sighs with a bit of relief. The altercation with Eric had only bruised his ankle and banged up his ribs. He was lucky indeed to even still be able to walk. "Though I'm sure I wouldn't have been accepted, seeing as how I ain't gifted and all." He calmly reaches for his cigarette, but stops and instead goes for his gum. When you can't smoke, juicy fruit does nicely. "Hey! Nothing wrong with root beer. Besides you can't make an ice cream float with the regular stuff."
"Oh, that's not true, James. We've got a few students who aren't mutants, but whose older siblings or younger siblings were, or whose parents work here," Jean allows with a smile, and a call for one of the students cheerfully doing cannonballs into the pool to go and fetch them two bottles of root beer. She picks up her conversation where she left off with a slight, lazy toss of her head. "Once, we had a pair of fraternal twins who just didn't feel like going to separate schools. Admittedly, our primary goal is to educate young mutants, since there's no other place specifically catering to that, but if we were letting them grow up with only other mutants around, well, that's a bit of a skewed worldview they'd get. And for the non-mutants kids, it's good for -them- to realize first hand that we're all people, and they aren't inferior or superior."
James blinks as he takes the root beer, "Really?! I didn't know that? So you've managed to cut out your own utopia out here hmm?" Oh geez didn't that sound bad. He clears his throat and opens the rootbeer taking a long swig from it. It's been a while since he's had rootbeer, hell he might have to go and pick up a six pack later. "So how does one manage to get into the school for the gifted? You don't advertise that your here, and rightly good that you don't. I think those Friends clowns would love a chance to come here and cause some serious trouble."
Jean snorts at that, apparently not inclined to take offense. "Utopia? When there are this many teenagers wandering around? And we're down by half the student body since it's summer break, no less. No, no utopia," she shakes her head, uncapping her own bottle of rootbeer and taking a thoughtful sip. "Just a little haven while they all find their wings. Literally, in a couple cases. Warren Worthington was a schoolmate of mine," she recounts with a nostalgic grin. "-Not- so much of an angel then. As for advertising, it's twofold. One, the mutant community knows about us. I have my name and number out at places like The Sanctuary," which she's assumign James knows about. "Two, we've got our own network. Given that I'm involved in research and activism, Professor Xavier in philanthropy and his own research in the past, and Dr. Moira MacTaggart's a close colleague, as well as Dr. Henry McCoy, quite often people come to us, or we hear about them."
James chuckles, "Ah, so you have a lot of out of control hormones and such, yea? All those times as a kid I wish I had x-ray vision and now some kid out there does. Lucky devil." On that note James takes another sip of his root beer. "Sounds like you have a full crew of people here Miss Grey, but I still worry." He pauses setting the bottle on the table, "With the recent death of this mutant there has been a lot of turmoil in the city right now. I know there is going to be more violence, so do me a favor. Tell your kids to be safe okay? I would hate to have to.. " He coughs, "...pick some little kid outta an alley way because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time." James was getting a little upset. Seems he's done that already, maybe a few to many times.
Jean's hand rests briefly on James' forearm, long enough to let him feel simple human contact, but not long enough to give the wrong impression. "I once had to do an autopsy on one of my students," she reveals. "Those are images I'll have with me to my dying day. I understand." There's a long meditative pause while she stares into the brown glass of the root beer bottle, before finding her thread to start again. "Yeah. We tell them. We send them all out with panic buttons that will call the faculty in to go get them. We tell them to use the buddy system, that their curfew is there for a reason... incidentally, remind me to talk to you another time about some of the faculty."
James exhales softly feeling a little better thanks to Jean's touch. This simple act brought him out of his slump he was feeling and tries to cheer up. "You know Miss Grey. I'll take a quote from my daughter.." He smirks, "Sometimes it sucks being an adult." He reaches for his root beer, "Well if they are anything like you I'm sure we'll get along great. After all you are an intelligent young woman.." Oh that came out bad. "Well just have them avoid the park if they can for now, well the more secluded areas." James is quick to change the subject. "You know Mister Lensherr was pretty interested about what was going to be done about the Friends. Though I think I upset him when I lectured him about how he's dealing with thing." He smirks, "I told him that he isn't helping. People fear mutants because of what they can do. Now thanks to him, they fear what they might become. Which are terrorists... and he didn't like that one bit."
"I'm only about six years younger than you, detective," Jean points out dryly, having apparently read over a couple of dossiers here and there. "Although I'll take that as a compliment. So, avoid secluded areas of the park, because it's no longer young gay men in the shadows, it's violent young men who might be overcompensating for something," Although the comment -could- be taken as flip, the too old quality of her green eyes puts the lie to any real humour in the statement. Although a little of it comes back at the mention of "And how -is- my former algebra professor these days? Still stuck in the delusion that this is Nazi germany, and mutants are the new jews?"
James chuckles playfully, "I thought that was taboo telling a man your age Miss Grey? Like it was some unwritten law that all women follow." Oh he liked her, if everyone else was like her this would be great! The comment she makes about the park causes him to laugh, "Well there are still a few like that, though they do keep to themselves. And mostly it's just a case of uhmm being unable to wait until they get home." He coughs at his own comment, "Algebra professor?! I had no idea that you and he knew each other." Hmm something new learned every day. "And I believe so. What I didn't tell him was that because of all the Friends activity. There is a special task force being created to try and capture these clowns."
"I'm unorthodox, what can I say?" Jean grins. "Admittedly, having an ex-boyfriend who was around 120 as near as we could figure while looking 35 is pretty good for making a girl feel permanently young, but that's another story, and I can see you're more interested in my relationship with Erik Lensherr." she changes the topic easily enough, recieving a plate with a hamburger on it while a second one is delivered to the detective. "The simplest answer is that he and Charles Xavier founded this school, I was their first student, and in 1987, they had a massive falling-out because Charles favoured Martin Luther King's approach to social change, and Erik, Holocaust survivor watching his -other- people become marginalized and vilified again, felt that Malcolm X was a better model to follow. Peace versus war, and we're for peace. I've only spoken with him a handful of times since then, usually when he's gotten lonely or guilty or bored, and has found me in a public place where there are too many innocents and potential hostages around for me to make a scene."
James takes the hamburger and nods, "Well sounds to me like you've had an interesting life Miss Grey. Far more interesting than mine that's for sure." Ah meat, finally some real food. "Anything's better than hospital food!" James takes a rather large bite, the juice dripping onto his shirt. What's he care, he got leave thanks to Magneto. Though he isn't a complete slob, waiting to finish with his bit before speaking again. "Well some of the cops are like that. Some don't care, some want to help, and others just think that mutants are a problem and need to be handled.." Yeah that made him uncomfortable, "So Miss Grey maybe you and me could get together for dinner or something sometime? See a show?" Oh that was just uncalled for! James quickly recovers and glances at his watch. "Ah. uhm I'm sorry Miss Grey... I uhm..Maybe I should go. I think I've over stayed my welcome.."
"If I was still single, I'd take you up on that in a heartbeat, detective," Jean makes her let-down a nice one, complete with a quick grin. "You're a good man, and I literally -can- sense these things. But I think my boyfriend would be sad if I started seeing shows with other men, even if it's like pulling teeth to drag him to one, so we should probably behave ourselves." With that handled, she digs into her own burger with the usual intensity of an omega telepath for food, and the grace that's a product of her raising. "I'll drive you back into the city once you've had something to eat. Lennox Hill's got some of the best doctors on the planet, but their catering staff should be arrested for cruelty."
X-Men MUCK - Friday, June 17, 2005, 12:28 PM
--------------------------------------------
<< XS >> Jean's Room - Lv3
Large and airy this end of the hall room; the door from the hallway bisects one wall. To the right, an office area complete with overstuffed bookshelves and a desk with computer, docking stations for peripherals, and piles of papers both research and student. To the left, privacy screens in black lacquered wood and white rice paper enclose a sleeping area containing a bedside table and lamp, and a double futon with many pillows and an addictively comfortable duvet. The outer wall features two bay windows with cushioned window seats on either side of a small fieldstone fireplace. An oriental rug stands in front of the hearth, with a small cream coloured sofa perfectly placed for a quiet evening in. There are two additional rugs in the sleeping and office areas, otherwise the parquet floor is bare. Walls hung with gray-blue wallpaper and with acccents in black and white, the simple empty space allows for both visual and mental tranquility, aided and abetted by candles scattered about on black worked-metal stands. A door on the left wall leads to a fairly nice bathroom, and a matching one on the right opens into a large walk-in closet.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
Jean's door is very firmly closed, but any jealous mutterings about monkey business are rather swiftly proved wrong if one could see within. Tea for two is set out on Jean's coffee table, along with a small but expected cheesecake, the remains of a strawberry trifle the kids had gotten into, and predictable plates and cutlery. Jean's comfortable on one end of her sofa, her fluffy calico cat purring on her lap and eyeing the cheesecake meditatively.
Contrary to popular heresay, despite his natural plumage Warren has always rather liked cats.. and for thier part, felines have displayed no urge to try and pounce or devour him. Lucky that. With a genuine smile curling his own lips, Warren is slicing his own contribution to this delectable snack: fresh strawberries, a bit early in the season, he must admit, but still.. "So.. how was your week? he asks with bemused irony."
One could of course suggest that angels are fond of all of God's creatures. Jean lazily ruffles behind Curie's ears and gives a smile at the strawberries. "Quite a find, those." she pronounces, before giving a dry grin to the question. "Interesting," she decides. "In the ancient oriental curse sense of the word. Yours?"
"Very much the same," Warren replies to the latter first. "Had'nt you heard? Flowers bloom under my touch now, and the fruits of the vine ripen with my smile-" he quips with downplayed theatrics, one of the described smiles growing in depth upon his countenance, as he shares the grin with Jean. The sliced berries are littered liberally over the cheesecake, a few slices kept apart. "How swiftly do we wish to ruin the afternoon?" he asks, in regards to 'Interesting times'..
"Good," deadpans Jean with a wave towards a potted plant in one sunlit corner of the room. "My miniature citrus over there is looking a little bit peaky, could you..." She twiddles her fingers in a fixing gesture and then breaks the expression with a chuckle. "Regardless of their genesis, those strawberries are just the thing needed. And as for ruined afternoons, if it's to be ruined anyways, I say we strike swift and sure and console ourself with dessert as needed."
"Here here.." he acclaims her statement with an apprving nod, before stating simply and without further ado: "Stryker had come into possession of experimental mutant detection technology, and a rather advanced program was in development for autonomous neutralizing measures. Thick slice, or thin?"
"Oh... thick, please." Jean replies, tone a trifle absent as she considers the ramifications of what Warren's just shared with her, eyes focused on a spot in the air two feet in front of the terrestrial angel's nose and her hands passing over the plates by rote. "Autonomous neutralizing measures. Remote hunter drones, in other words, or are we talking full-fledges AI?"
The predictably requested depth of dessert is prepared and proffered. "Initially the first. The various technologies are still being refined, so full integration is still a ways off as of now, but drones could be prototyped relatively soon. Though unless I mistake-" by his tone, Warren does'nt consider that likely, "It's with an eye towards eventually crafting a full AI. At least a decade off, though.. at the earliest. Sugar?" he asks, once the cheesecake is placed upon her plate, glancing after an instant to the teapot and cups.
"No thanks, just black." Jean replies, picking up the plate of cheese cake offered to her and cradling it like a child with a favourite comforting toy, but not picking up her fork until Warren's served himself. "Well, Stryker was rotting in the cell next to yours when we fetched you, and we used up our own free surprise attack on the island with that retrieval, so I doubt he's getting out any time soon. But if you've got the information, clearly it's out in the open where other eyes can concievably see it..."
Warren nods absently, as he slices off his own piece of confection. "Indeed. Erik was prevented from acquiring it, for which I'm *profoundly* relieved.. but yes. It must still be considered to be available to certaion parties. William Stryker is not the problem, just the symptom.. We still don't know where these other research facilities are located, nor are they operating within the proper channels of influence-" Meaning that Roger Lowe can do nothing about them, even were he aware of them.. which he isn't.
If he were aware of them, Jean would be sweeping down to D.C. like Boudicca upon London. She considers her cheesecake, far more manageable problem that it is, and makes a primary incision to cross-section off the tip of the slice. "There are only a small number of military-based corporations that would have the resources to pull off the things required by this project," she notes, her own views of finance far more tactical and simple than those of her friend, who's not merely immersed in the hydra, he's a few of the heads. "And the genetech and biotech needed... those are fairly small too. It wouldn't surprise me if we found Nathaniel Essex down one of the biological roads."
"Wherever it came from, the advances have reached the point wherein any facility of sufficient innovation- Which while far from common, are much less rare than we might like- could continue this program." A tersely released breath, the first hints of a frown, drawing his blonde brows nearer together, as he follows the good doctor's example, and takes the tip of his own dessert onto the tines of his fork. "Perhaps most troubling of all.. I can't say when the first hunter drones might appear. They could have been under construction already.. I wish I could leave this off with the knowledge that our acquiring this cut the program off, but I can't."
"It seems to me..." Jean muses, tapping her now-emptied fork thoughtfully against her lips. "That even if the pool of possible companies is larger than we might like, the sort of highly refined materials needed to make drones have an even more limited number of producers. A little looking around," What a quaint name for 'industrial espionage'! "might turn up the beginnings of a paper trail. You have theoretical schematics?" she wonders.
"The initial proposed structure, yes.. Inclusive of suitably mobile power sources, and required high grade fiber optic interfaces.. Rather rare, those," he adds with an appreciative smirk tugging at his less than angelic lips. "My dear Miss Grey," he adds, smirk broadening, "You are growing dangerously near to becoming devious." Another bite of his cheesecake after that little compliment is paid.
"I've always been what I am," Jean twinkles at Warren, flicking her fork at him before taking another bite of dessert. "I've just never been given a reason to show it." Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the horror of the project they're opposing, there -is- a certain delight in testing one's skills. "Portable high draw power sources in the US... where have I... just a moment," she excuses herself, rising and being followed by her hovering tea and cheesecake as she absently wanders over to her workspace and fires up her desktop. "I was doing some standard investigation into some public holdings for some people, and I know I came across a company that makes those."
Warren laughs quietly to himself.. plucking up his own tea and cake to follow after the studious lady. Not terribly good at relaxing at times, these two. Standing behind Jean's chair, and setting down his tea cup at a safe distance, Warren braces one hand on the desk, and leans over Jean's shoulder to share her scrutiny. "There were also notes made inquiring after the availability of metallurgically clean power sources.. *That* should narrow it down," he notes with another smirk.
News reports and text documents and Excel files march across the flat screen of the monitor, opening up in a quickly-flicking cascade that speaks of some serious amounts of RAM and a system in general that's so hardcore the more tech-centric members of the student body would be falling over outside of Jean's bedroom door if they knew the machine lived here. Jean, meanwhile, merely expects nothing less, and therefore gets what she expects. "Hah!" she announces, pointing triumphantly at a news headline regarding just one such power source company from just that morning. A very familiar name peers innocuously out from the screen: Sebastian Shaw. "God," Jean quotes intensely. "Hath delivered him into my hand."
Somewhere on the muck, Molly has disconnected.
"Beautiful," Warren notes with a tight smile, the sceen reflected in miniature in Warren's blue eyes. "And good work on the computer as well," he notes, with just a bit of rakish humor. The wheels are spinning, and how how they turn. Sebastian's contracts.. his impending involvement with the Friends of Humanity (even if it was'nt his notion in the first place..) and now connection, even in a roundabout way, to the disgraced William Stryker. << Oh, Mister Shaw had best mind his step... else he might slip through those fingers of yours, my dear Miss Grey. >>
Jean snorts a huntress's laugh. << I think I'll just have to let my fingers close ever so carefully about him, then. >> she replies, before plucking her teacup out of the air and taking a triumphant sip. "Scott's going to hate this, you know," she replies musingly, images of cultivating Shaw shared between them. "But when things are lined up so neatly... it's a sin in my personal theology not to take advantage of an opportunity to do good. I've booked a riding lesson for Shaw with his secretary... I think things could bear fruit, if we keep ever so randomly meeting up."