Mass amounts of Havok.
From: drgrey@x-school.edu
To: X-MEN@listserv.x-school.edu
Subject: Madrox, Alex Summers and serial killers
-----------------
I've just had an interview with Alex Summers. In addition to being pissed off at us for our handling of the amnesiac Magneto (I pointed him at you when he didn't like my answers, Charles. He's sulky and disinclined to talk to you, so you should see him yourself, because I wash my hands of it.) he and James Madrox have a grand scheme in mind to go hunt down that serial killer with the mouths in his hands all by themselves.
Their grand plan for capturing him involves blowing his limbs off, and then bringing him to the police. Alex seems to feel that because he disagrees with how we handled Magneto, how we're handling this is idiotic as well. Apparently ideas like 'chain of evidence' and 'careful investigation' are things that only made it down your side of the genome, Scott. And as for Madrox... well, that boy watches too much film noir, and I don't think your efforts to show him the real world have dissuaded him a bit, Sean. We should probably let MA know to be on the lookout for two idiots trying to be heros, and keep an eye out ourselves. I've done one real autopsy in my life. I don't want two more on my plate.
Jean
X-Men MUCK - Monday, July 24, 2006, 7:13 PM
-------------------------------------------
<> 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 ]
[Players : Alex ]
A fine summer's day, and so Jean is hiding in her room. Of course, when the room in question is a large, airy one, the bay windows are open, with curtains drawn back, and sunlight is pooling across the warm wood floors, it's not so much hiding as sunbathing without risking a burn. At the greatest intensity of sunlight, a fluffy calico cat sprawls. On one of her window seats beside her fireplace, Jean is tucked up with a paperback and a pitcher and glass of lemonade, buried intently and making a few notes on a pad of lined paper. The door to the hall stands open, letting visitors know that The Doctor Is In.
A vanguard of wallowing, brooding, uncertain thoughts filters before Alex as he strides towards the hall and pauses in front of the door. His chin and cheeks are dotted with stubble and his face seems drawn and tired. Young Summers is restless. "Jean, are you busy?" He asks politely, though it appears as if she is not.
Over the edge of yet another novel of Darkover, green eyes peer out from behind black-rimmed glasses. "Not with anything that can't wait," Jean answers, lifting a hand and waving him in. "You seem like you've got a few things on your mind, Alex."
Hardly a moment wasted in wondering, Alex and his aura tumble into through the door and come to a pause a respectable distance from Doctor Grey. "Thanks. Word on the street..." He pauses, his mouth hooks into a grin. "A kid with funny glasses once said you were a good person to talk to."
"Lots of funny glasses around here," Jean replies, a crooked smile appearing at the thought of the other Summers brother. "And people flatter me an awful lot, but I'm certainly a person to talk to. 'Good', well, that's for you to decide." Long legs lower from the window seat, and the book is set aside as she sits up and sits forward, her hands between her knees. Behind Alex, Curie the cat prrts softly, indignantly fluffing her fur at having her sunlight blocked. The cat rises and twines herself through the offending human's legs. Yo.
"I guess so." Alex replies absent-mindedly, his left foot taking a step a shoulder's length from the righ and his hands clasping in the small of his back. Once more, doubt and distaste boil over the surface of his worry and he lets out a sniff before continuing. "I have questions about things and...well. Some things I wouldn't want to talk to Xavier about. He looks too kind for brutal honesty."
"You'd be surprised," Jean murmurs, albeit mostly to herself. Curie settles herself on Alex's right foot imperiously. Jean takes no notice of her pet, and instead gives Alex a level look. "In any case, hit me. I reserve the right to be brutally honest in return, though."
Alex lowers his eyes to the creature on his foot before answering. His reaction is a small smile that turns up as the blues steady themselves on Jean. "No answer I've heard makes sense. None that fits right, anyway. Why would people that are trying to help the cause aid Magneto?"
Green eyes meet blue, and Jean's chin tips downwards slightly, a fencer's nod given and a corner of her mouth quirked. "For the same reason a hospital won't let a man shot in a police standoff die," is her answer. "A man who's mentally thirty five years old isn't Magneto. He's Dr. Erik Lensherr, PhD. and about to start his career as an MIT professor in theoretical physics. He's not fit to stand trial for acts of terrorism if he can't -remember- them."
"Patching up a wounded man who will happily run off to murder more." Alex returns with a bit more force. Anger wells behind his eyes. "There's quite a difference between those scenarios. Scott doesn't seem to agree either, but he's blindly following this decision. What calls for that?"
"Patching up a wounded man who, unlike the Brotherhood's other members, isn't entirely insane. I'm not exactly -happy- about it, Alex," Jean points out, eyeing that anger and shaking her head. "That wounded man has hurt me and mine before. But the reality is that we can't take out the entire Brotherhood before they could take out the students here, and the -reality- is that there's a lot of them that would happily see my students dead, as traitors to the mutant race for wanting to integrate. Until we can work wth the government to set up a strike that takes out every single head in one go, Magneto's better than the anarchic alternative. Scott doesn't agree either, but -he- apparently got all the tactical ability in the family."
A single eyebrow raises and Alex takes several steps towards Jean, his presence non-threatening, but intending to seek clarification. "Did he, Jean? Were it my duty, Magneto would not be admitted into this mansion. Were I to use my own tactics, That old son of a bitch would have been disabled where he stood while he was left uncertain of who he was. Then again, maybe I'm too young. I don't get the way etiquette /dictates/ I deal with a weakened, confused /terrorist/." The final word practically snarls out of Alex, his anger mingling into displaced aggression.
"Alex," Jean's tone is cool, and green eyes sharp as she surveys the anger and the snarl. "Do you actually want answers, or do you just want to snap and snarl about our hypocrisy and how you'd do better in our place?"
The features tensed with wrath relax and Alex pulls a hand from behind his back to rub at a temple. "Yeah, sorry. I'm having a rough week. So you know that murderer? Attacked some kids here, I guess?"
"I really -would- recommend you talk to Charles about why Magneto was here, if you want the real answers," Jean suggests, answering properly once Alex calms himself. "It was his call that he stay, in the end. And he's not as fragile as you think he is. As for the murder... guy with the mouths in his hands? Yeah."
"At this point, I'd really rather not hear an excuse." Alex says blandly, lowering his hand again and raises his shoulders with a deep breath. "That's the one. Madrox and I are going to hunt him down, disable him, and turn him in to the police. Pete said he's going to help, but I have a feeling he's going to tip off Scott; him being Scott 2.0. My instinct says telling you would be better."
"-What-?" Jean's answer perhaps puts this instinct into question. She rises from her seat, on her feet with sudden blazing irritation in her eyes and stance, and a sudden crackle of power thrumming around her on some subliminal level. "Are you fucking -insane-? No, don't answer that, I know the answer already. Hunt him down, you say. Assuming you even manage to find him, how the hell are you planning to assure that you're not brought in in a couple of body bags?" she wonders, stabbing a finger at him. Curie, sensibly, flees to hide under Jean's bed in a poof of fur. "Assuming you -do- manage to avoid getting killed or wounded, how the hell do you plan to bring him in without completely compromising the evidence the police will need to convict him? And how do you plan to keep your asses out of jail for assault? I'd ask if you've thought about the fact that we're already working on this, but you 'plan' seems to indicate that -thinking- might be a foreign concept. We're not fucking comic book superheros, Alex."
"As far as the safe house kids seem to think, /I'm/ not the superhero, Jean." Alex says flatly, a little irritation in his voice as he slips back and tilts his chin a little higher. "It's simple. Plans will be made, and I'll blows off his limbs. If he can't run and slash, he can't hurt us. /Besides/." His Blue eyes flicker back to narrow points and he gives his head a slight shake. "You and Scott, as you've demonstrated with Magneto, are /not/ good examples for thinking."
"You're going to blow off his limbs." Jean folds her arms across her chest and repeats this statement in a flat tone. "Oh yeah, that's a -great- plan there, cowboy. You'll get a medal for that for sure."
Alex rolls his eyes and turns to head out of the room. "Would you prefer I brought him back here afterwards? I bet you'd patch 'em up good as new."
"Alex, you're an idiot," Jean's tone is withering, and likewise the look she turns on him. "A noble one, but an idiot. We are currently working with Mutant Affairs on the case, pooling our resources. I've done DNA work for them, they've got a profiler from the FBI working on the case. Serial killers aren't like putting down a guy in a bar who's had too many. You make a lot of slow and careful moves before you catch them, and this isn't CSI."
A youthful smile plays across his face and he turns to give Jean a mock bow. "Yeah, probably. But idiot to idiot? May the /best/ idiot /win/." Alex rises and straightens his collar before giving Jean a final look over and nod. "Thanks for the talk, Jean. I hope our next one is under better circumstances."
"I doubt it," says Jean, shaking her head without the barest hint of amusement. "You're charging into this blind, and you're wrapping yourself in righteousness because you're doing it. I just hope we -get- a next talk, because I don't want to have to watch Scott bury you."
Morbid words sink into the back of Alex's head as he slowly walks out of the room, digging past his righteous rage and finding a foothold to bother him with. That's going to eat at him later. Once he passes the door, he turns and heads back to make his way to the rec room.
Alex (OOC) claps. "Wooo! Wow."
Alex (OOC) is not Scott. Not even a LITTLE!
Jean (OOC) says, "I think Emplate should totally take them by surprise and munch on 'em a little. >:)"
Alex (OOC) says, "That would be awesome."
Jean (OOC) shakes Kitty. Log on so we can plot, woman!
Alex (OOC) mourns for a similar outcome. MOURNS.
To: X-MEN@listserv.x-school.edu
Subject: Madrox, Alex Summers and serial killers
-----------------
I've just had an interview with Alex Summers. In addition to being pissed off at us for our handling of the amnesiac Magneto (I pointed him at you when he didn't like my answers, Charles. He's sulky and disinclined to talk to you, so you should see him yourself, because I wash my hands of it.) he and James Madrox have a grand scheme in mind to go hunt down that serial killer with the mouths in his hands all by themselves.
Their grand plan for capturing him involves blowing his limbs off, and then bringing him to the police. Alex seems to feel that because he disagrees with how we handled Magneto, how we're handling this is idiotic as well. Apparently ideas like 'chain of evidence' and 'careful investigation' are things that only made it down your side of the genome, Scott. And as for Madrox... well, that boy watches too much film noir, and I don't think your efforts to show him the real world have dissuaded him a bit, Sean. We should probably let MA know to be on the lookout for two idiots trying to be heros, and keep an eye out ourselves. I've done one real autopsy in my life. I don't want two more on my plate.
Jean
X-Men MUCK - Monday, July 24, 2006, 7:13 PM
-------------------------------------------
<> 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 ]
[Players : Alex ]
A fine summer's day, and so Jean is hiding in her room. Of course, when the room in question is a large, airy one, the bay windows are open, with curtains drawn back, and sunlight is pooling across the warm wood floors, it's not so much hiding as sunbathing without risking a burn. At the greatest intensity of sunlight, a fluffy calico cat sprawls. On one of her window seats beside her fireplace, Jean is tucked up with a paperback and a pitcher and glass of lemonade, buried intently and making a few notes on a pad of lined paper. The door to the hall stands open, letting visitors know that The Doctor Is In.
A vanguard of wallowing, brooding, uncertain thoughts filters before Alex as he strides towards the hall and pauses in front of the door. His chin and cheeks are dotted with stubble and his face seems drawn and tired. Young Summers is restless. "Jean, are you busy?" He asks politely, though it appears as if she is not.
Over the edge of yet another novel of Darkover, green eyes peer out from behind black-rimmed glasses. "Not with anything that can't wait," Jean answers, lifting a hand and waving him in. "You seem like you've got a few things on your mind, Alex."
Hardly a moment wasted in wondering, Alex and his aura tumble into through the door and come to a pause a respectable distance from Doctor Grey. "Thanks. Word on the street..." He pauses, his mouth hooks into a grin. "A kid with funny glasses once said you were a good person to talk to."
"Lots of funny glasses around here," Jean replies, a crooked smile appearing at the thought of the other Summers brother. "And people flatter me an awful lot, but I'm certainly a person to talk to. 'Good', well, that's for you to decide." Long legs lower from the window seat, and the book is set aside as she sits up and sits forward, her hands between her knees. Behind Alex, Curie the cat prrts softly, indignantly fluffing her fur at having her sunlight blocked. The cat rises and twines herself through the offending human's legs. Yo.
"I guess so." Alex replies absent-mindedly, his left foot taking a step a shoulder's length from the righ and his hands clasping in the small of his back. Once more, doubt and distaste boil over the surface of his worry and he lets out a sniff before continuing. "I have questions about things and...well. Some things I wouldn't want to talk to Xavier about. He looks too kind for brutal honesty."
"You'd be surprised," Jean murmurs, albeit mostly to herself. Curie settles herself on Alex's right foot imperiously. Jean takes no notice of her pet, and instead gives Alex a level look. "In any case, hit me. I reserve the right to be brutally honest in return, though."
Alex lowers his eyes to the creature on his foot before answering. His reaction is a small smile that turns up as the blues steady themselves on Jean. "No answer I've heard makes sense. None that fits right, anyway. Why would people that are trying to help the cause aid Magneto?"
Green eyes meet blue, and Jean's chin tips downwards slightly, a fencer's nod given and a corner of her mouth quirked. "For the same reason a hospital won't let a man shot in a police standoff die," is her answer. "A man who's mentally thirty five years old isn't Magneto. He's Dr. Erik Lensherr, PhD. and about to start his career as an MIT professor in theoretical physics. He's not fit to stand trial for acts of terrorism if he can't -remember- them."
"Patching up a wounded man who will happily run off to murder more." Alex returns with a bit more force. Anger wells behind his eyes. "There's quite a difference between those scenarios. Scott doesn't seem to agree either, but he's blindly following this decision. What calls for that?"
"Patching up a wounded man who, unlike the Brotherhood's other members, isn't entirely insane. I'm not exactly -happy- about it, Alex," Jean points out, eyeing that anger and shaking her head. "That wounded man has hurt me and mine before. But the reality is that we can't take out the entire Brotherhood before they could take out the students here, and the -reality- is that there's a lot of them that would happily see my students dead, as traitors to the mutant race for wanting to integrate. Until we can work wth the government to set up a strike that takes out every single head in one go, Magneto's better than the anarchic alternative. Scott doesn't agree either, but -he- apparently got all the tactical ability in the family."
A single eyebrow raises and Alex takes several steps towards Jean, his presence non-threatening, but intending to seek clarification. "Did he, Jean? Were it my duty, Magneto would not be admitted into this mansion. Were I to use my own tactics, That old son of a bitch would have been disabled where he stood while he was left uncertain of who he was. Then again, maybe I'm too young. I don't get the way etiquette /dictates/ I deal with a weakened, confused /terrorist/." The final word practically snarls out of Alex, his anger mingling into displaced aggression.
"Alex," Jean's tone is cool, and green eyes sharp as she surveys the anger and the snarl. "Do you actually want answers, or do you just want to snap and snarl about our hypocrisy and how you'd do better in our place?"
The features tensed with wrath relax and Alex pulls a hand from behind his back to rub at a temple. "Yeah, sorry. I'm having a rough week. So you know that murderer? Attacked some kids here, I guess?"
"I really -would- recommend you talk to Charles about why Magneto was here, if you want the real answers," Jean suggests, answering properly once Alex calms himself. "It was his call that he stay, in the end. And he's not as fragile as you think he is. As for the murder... guy with the mouths in his hands? Yeah."
"At this point, I'd really rather not hear an excuse." Alex says blandly, lowering his hand again and raises his shoulders with a deep breath. "That's the one. Madrox and I are going to hunt him down, disable him, and turn him in to the police. Pete said he's going to help, but I have a feeling he's going to tip off Scott; him being Scott 2.0. My instinct says telling you would be better."
"-What-?" Jean's answer perhaps puts this instinct into question. She rises from her seat, on her feet with sudden blazing irritation in her eyes and stance, and a sudden crackle of power thrumming around her on some subliminal level. "Are you fucking -insane-? No, don't answer that, I know the answer already. Hunt him down, you say. Assuming you even manage to find him, how the hell are you planning to assure that you're not brought in in a couple of body bags?" she wonders, stabbing a finger at him. Curie, sensibly, flees to hide under Jean's bed in a poof of fur. "Assuming you -do- manage to avoid getting killed or wounded, how the hell do you plan to bring him in without completely compromising the evidence the police will need to convict him? And how do you plan to keep your asses out of jail for assault? I'd ask if you've thought about the fact that we're already working on this, but you 'plan' seems to indicate that -thinking- might be a foreign concept. We're not fucking comic book superheros, Alex."
"As far as the safe house kids seem to think, /I'm/ not the superhero, Jean." Alex says flatly, a little irritation in his voice as he slips back and tilts his chin a little higher. "It's simple. Plans will be made, and I'll blows off his limbs. If he can't run and slash, he can't hurt us. /Besides/." His Blue eyes flicker back to narrow points and he gives his head a slight shake. "You and Scott, as you've demonstrated with Magneto, are /not/ good examples for thinking."
"You're going to blow off his limbs." Jean folds her arms across her chest and repeats this statement in a flat tone. "Oh yeah, that's a -great- plan there, cowboy. You'll get a medal for that for sure."
Alex rolls his eyes and turns to head out of the room. "Would you prefer I brought him back here afterwards? I bet you'd patch 'em up good as new."
"Alex, you're an idiot," Jean's tone is withering, and likewise the look she turns on him. "A noble one, but an idiot. We are currently working with Mutant Affairs on the case, pooling our resources. I've done DNA work for them, they've got a profiler from the FBI working on the case. Serial killers aren't like putting down a guy in a bar who's had too many. You make a lot of slow and careful moves before you catch them, and this isn't CSI."
A youthful smile plays across his face and he turns to give Jean a mock bow. "Yeah, probably. But idiot to idiot? May the /best/ idiot /win/." Alex rises and straightens his collar before giving Jean a final look over and nod. "Thanks for the talk, Jean. I hope our next one is under better circumstances."
"I doubt it," says Jean, shaking her head without the barest hint of amusement. "You're charging into this blind, and you're wrapping yourself in righteousness because you're doing it. I just hope we -get- a next talk, because I don't want to have to watch Scott bury you."
Morbid words sink into the back of Alex's head as he slowly walks out of the room, digging past his righteous rage and finding a foothold to bother him with. That's going to eat at him later. Once he passes the door, he turns and heads back to make his way to the rec room.
Alex (OOC) claps. "Wooo! Wow."
Alex (OOC) is not Scott. Not even a LITTLE!
Jean (OOC) says, "I think Emplate should totally take them by surprise and munch on 'em a little. >:)"
Alex (OOC) says, "That would be awesome."
Jean (OOC) shakes Kitty. Log on so we can plot, woman!
Alex (OOC) mourns for a similar outcome. MOURNS.