Intervention (RP with Wanda)

[shadeof_grey]

When Tony Stark dropped Wanda off at the steps of the Xavier Institute, explaining that he had found her in Wundagore trying to raise the dead, Jean knew she was going to have to do something about the situation. Nobody had ever been able to control Wanda, not really. And she was an adult. But the fact that she was here, at the Institute,

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[daughter_of_m]

Wanda was altered by her experiences in California. She had tried, for the first time in months, to really use her power. To do something specific. Something meaningful. Something...

Real.

And she'd failed.

Now what?

Bleary-eyed and heavy-hearted she opened the door. "Help with what, Jeannie-girl?"

[shadeof_grey]

Wanda was sad.

Jean could tell that before she even answered the door. She wasn't reading Wanda's mind, and Wanda's bad moods didn't project outward with the obviousness of, say, Storm's. It's just that when things aren't right with Wanda, there's a certain air of "not-rightness" that radiates from her.

And now, when Wanda pulled open the door, the intensity of the feeling magnified. Jean glanced at the room, which was brightly decorated but managed to radiate an aura of teenage depression anyway.

Whatever they did, they were getting out of this room.

"Help expanding the school's recreational options," Jean said. "Get on a jacket and some jeans, okay, and meet me down at my car in twenty minutes. I hope you like horses."

[daughter_of_m]

Horses?

Wanda had no chance to ask anything more of Jean, she'd whisked away enigmatically in that Jean Grey Way of hers. Wanda didn't even get to shrug.

This was kinda weird, really. Jean should probably be mad at her. Maybe she was getting her out of the house so she could really yell at her and not disturb anybody...

Well. Maybe she deserved it.

Wanda dressed quickly and simply and walked down to meet her doom.

Er. Her friend.

Teacher.

Well. Jean. Her Jean.

[shadeof_grey]

It was possible, Jean considered, that Wanda wasn't prepared for anything as prosaic as actual horses.

Jean had been reading about a program that tried to teach at-risk children about social interaction and responsibility by having them care for retired show-horses. Having spent a few summers at horse camp herself, Jean had lobbied for a riding program at the school on and off since she was a student there. It hadn't gotten off the ground -- and, admittedly, it was hard to talk about a place that got blown up on a semi-regular basis in terms of a plausible "rescue" site. But she thought it was at least worth considering.

She had already planned a trip to the stable that housed the program, when she realized this was going to be her day to spend with Wanda.

Now she watched the girl, as she stared intently at a pretty chestnut mare. "So, what do you think?" Jean asked cautiously. All the straw and dirt might not exactly be Wanda's element.