View Full Version : In Xavier's Office.
09-06-2005, 09:45 AM
Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, a small mountain of papers scattered on the desk in front of him, and a headache slowly forming above both eyes. Few people realized just how much it took to run the Mansion, both in terms of money and the sheer avalanch of paperwork. Not to mention all the other projects he had his hands in, and how many things he worked day and night to keep off the radar of the anti-mutant factions in the current government.
But still, at least he had the current downtime in which he could go over some of this. It was something he'd probably never truly be caught up on, because each month brought a new rush of papers, and even less time on which he could do anything with them. Sometimes he thought he should spend hours in Cerebro until he found a mutant who's gift was the ability to breeze through papers. Call him Accountant-X, perhaps. If only it could happen.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed on the bridge of his nose for a moment, then back away from the desk. Maybe some coffee would do him some good. Even extremely powerful mutants could be overcome by the sea of numbers before him.
09-06-2005, 10:49 AM
There was alot that had been on Jean's mind. That's for sure. She needed someone to talk to and she knew that the first person she should speak with should be Charles Xavier. Ever since the returning of her memories, it felt as if she had to be the one to reconstitute herself within the school. Re-establish herself within the mansion. She didn't like it. Her emotions were something that she always tried to keep a check on, especially given the way that Phoenix had a driving need to revel in them. To toy with them. The Phoenix lived for new sensations and at a moments chance that one arose, Jean felt herself lose a part of the control she had over the cosmic entity that possessed her body. She felt herself lose that control near completely when she had her run in with her husband in the arms of another woman in Massachussettes. She didn't care if Sentinels had attacked. There was nothing that anyone could say that would help her understand how an attack from Sentinels would draw another womans husband into the arms of a slut. So now, she sought guidance from Charles Xavier. He was her mentor and had been just that for many years prior to this very moment. He'd have answers, he tended to always have them, and with the frustration, jealousy, and anger that coursing through Jean's veins now -- she needed all the counseling she could possibly get.
Nothing changed over the course of time it took her to make it to Professor Charles Xaviers office. For sake of not wanting to bring forth worry in his mind however, she willed the Dark Phoenix garb that adorned her body away. The molecules of her clothing seemed to shift undeniably so and when they did, the Dark Phoenix garb had been stripped away completely only to leave behind Jean Grey clad in a pair of blue jean pants and a black tank top. Her feet were bare, and as she moved to place a hand on the door to Charles' office, she retracted it and instead knocked first. "Professor?" She called out. Letting her fingers curl around the knob a moment she moved to ease it open. There was no need in announcing who she was, she knew this much. Charles Xavier was the worlds strongest telepath. What need would she have to announce herself when he possibly already knew that she was approaching? Upon stepping in she noticed him heading to get himself some coffee, and shutting the door behind her she found herself pressing her back to it almost immediately. Emerald green eyes watched the ground for a moment before she diverted her attention to the man that was bound to wheel chair, possibly for teh rest of his life. "I don't mean to interrupt. I hope you're not too busy." She spoke in a calm tone of voice, trying her best to shield herself from any emotion she could have possibly been feeling.
They were only a few. Each one stemmed towards a particular being in her life. More a group if anything. Scott, Emma, Logan, and Ororo. No one would understand, and she knew that it'd be within her own nature to just take control over the situation. Take what she want, who could stop her? No one. She was the Phoenix and as such she could use the power to manipulate who she wanted. When she wanted, and how she wanted. As those eyes of hers narrowed with her thoughts, she immediately began to mentally reconstruct the blocks that would undoubtedly proove to provide much trouble for Charles Xavier if he tried to probe. For Jean it would have been no problem for Charles to get through, but when her powers were magnified by the Phoenix Force, she's proven before that she was no anchor to the X-Men. She had no problem doing it again.
09-10-2005, 10:51 AM
He felt her presence before she even touched the doorknob or announced herself, and Xavier smiled to himself, happy for the familiar company and the break from his paperwork. Knowing she'd come in unless told otherwise, which he wasn't about to do, he continued over to the small coffee pot that sat on a table in the corner, and he lifted a mug and the pot, filling the ceramic mug before replacing the coffee pot.
"Of course not, Jean. Please, come in," he said as he turned his chair away from the table and was brought around to face the door she'd just opened. "There's fresh coffee here, if you'd like a cup."
He thumbed the control on his wheelchair again, and was moved back around behind his desk, on which he then sat the mug after taking a small drink from it, testing the temperature. Stacking the papers then, he sat them aside and turned his attention, now without the distraction of an avalanche of numbers in front of him, back to Jean.
"How have you been, Jean?"
09-12-2005, 08:39 PM
<blockquote>There was silence upon Jean Grey's part. She didn't want to say too much of nothing. Professor Xavier had a tendency to be cryptic at times and it wasn't something that bothered her quite naturally, but what she needed at this exact moment was direct answers. The Phoenix would have it no other way. Right now she was doing well to keep the Phoenix under control, to keep her from wanting to revel in her emotions of pitty. Anger. Luckily enough, Jean Grey willed the Dark Phoenix garb away. The last time she found herself clad in such a molecular costume, she was deemed 'dark' once more. The X-Men had ot fight her. She fought her friends. But when one is possessed by a powerful cosmic entity that finds pleasure in new sensation and destruction, controlling her was just a tad bit comfortable. But Jean had learned to accept her, something she wouldn't dare admit to anyone. She's accepted the Phoenix as being part of her, and she being part of the Phoenix. They were one. "There's fresh coffee here, if you'd like a cup." She directed those emerald hues towards the coffee machine she pondered for a moment on whether she should have some or not. She'd taken a mental note to just pour her a cup later. After she gets off her chest what she came to get off her chest. She shifted her weight a moment and moved to step forward into the office, letting her emerald eyes travel towards Professor Charles Xavier. Her mentor. A man that was like her very own father. She loved him dearly. Who couldn't?
"How have you been, Jean?" She was wondering if his question had been rhetorical. And if he asked that on purpose. Phoenix had been wondering, and as she craned her head to the side she arched a slender eyebrow. It was almost as if her eyes had been dead to the world around her. Drained of so much emotion that she lacked within her heart at the current moment. It wasn't directed towards Charles Xavier. Just towards the things that she saw happen around her ever since regaining each of her memories back. That, however, did not filter out the way she was feeling about the current situation at hand and after a moment, she pushed herself from his office door and made her way towards the window in his office. Moving to rest her hand against the sill. "Tell me something, Charles," she began, her words slightly imposing in a sense but not overly so. A trait -- not of Jean's, but of Phoenix. "Why do you ask a question, and yet, you already know what the answer is going to be?" Charles could have possibly known how Jean was. He knew what had went on and she was beginning to wonder if he knew what was arising between Emma Frost and Scott Summers. Could he have possibly known about the mind tricks that horrible bitch had been playing on her husband? -Her- husband. The man that she exchanged vows with. There was a flame in her eyes, one that was burning bright to go to Alaska. "I've simply learned that the marriage saying, 'Til Death Do Us Part', is an understatement. But perhaps I should change that...." Her words trailed off gradually.
Phoenix's mind was at bay, and as her fingers gradually laced themselves around the latches upon her window. She was aggrivated. She was annoyed. And she wanted Scott Summers back. He was hers and hers only, and she realized that even more as the seconds became minutes. There was a vengeance within her taht needed to be had. She knew that she couldn't blame Emma Frost completely, because Scott had to obviously give into her treachery. Give into her mind games, because there was not one strong bone in his body that could have possibly wanted Emma Frost. Right? Scott Summers was the boy next door. The man that every girl would like to take home to their mother. He believed in marriage vows and they took them in holy matrimony so why was he not with her, right now? Her mind raced with so many questions and she just simply brought a hand up to her head, closing her eyes that flashed with mere rage before returning to normal. Stay back. She thought to herself, as her breathing picked up just slightly and died down gradually. Slowly. She was fine.
At least for now.. </blockquote>
09-16-2005, 09:12 AM
Xavier remained behind his desk, but his eyes were anything but unmoving. He had known Jean Grey for years, she was his first student, and their relationship was as close to father-daughter as one could get without the pair actually being father and daughter. Their mutations, so alike, had only made the gap between them smaller. And so this was why Xavier watched her as closely as he did when she walked to the window. It didn't take his telepathic ability to see that something was wrong. What that something was, however, could be a very complex question.
Watching her in silence, Xavier frowned slightly at her question, although less at the words than the slight, almost hidden tone. Interesting. Still, he didn't reply to her question, waiting instead until she began speaking again, or turned to him for an answer. The former happened, and Xavier settled slightly in his chair. Of course it was about Scott and Emma. He knew what was going on - how would he not know, with his long-time team leader suddenly gone to Alaska - and knew Jean would be upset. Who wouldn't? Losing one's memory and one's husband so quickly would throw anyone for a loop.
Xavier's only fear was that it was Jean was being thrown for the Loop, and the Pheonix was taking advantage of it. Something was going on, of this he was all but certain, because he knew Magneto would not be happy to just stay on his island content with what he had accomplished, and they didn't need the Pheonix Force showing up on top of it all. Unfortunately, that was something he had little control over. He wasn't certain Jean had much control over it, either.
"Jean, I-" he paused suddenly, his eyes closing as he consentrated. He felt a sudden fear wash over a number in the Mansion. Snatching the slender black television remote off of the desk, he spun his chair around and flipped on the TV, CNN coming to life on the small screen.
"Oh... dear God."
On the screen was a looped recording that had been transmitted from a media helicopter before it was destroyed... by Magneto. With a deeper frown than the one he'd considered Jean with, he turned back to her, a silent glance that told her he wished they could continue their conversation, short-lived through it was, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. Turning away from her then, he wheeled around his desk and opened the door to his office, leaving it and heading for the elevator that would take him to the X-Mansion's sub-basement. As he went, he sent a telepathic message to all that he would send to intercept Magneto in Washington DC...
((To be continued in a new thread...))
09-16-2005, 09:45 AM
<blockquote> Of course the look upon Charles Xaviers face drew a blank within her mind and as she watched him curiously she noted how he was about to speak but did not complete what it was he was going to say. He knew of what had been going on. He knew that Scott and Emma, were.. an item. It angered her on the inside. Could he have honestly prevented it from happen? Phoenix's eyes closed as Jean tried to will the anger away that had been swelling so deep within her chest that it near brought her pains. "Jean, I-" Words were cut off almost instantly and she arched a slender brow almost wondering if she should ask what was wrong. But Jean had no need to. It all came to her telepathically. The cries of those that lived within the mansion and she immediately cut her emerald green gaze towards Charles. There was something that always came up with the X-Men. Their days of battling enemies had been harsh. It became like a broken record with Jean Grey. Someone attacked and the X-Men had to remedy the situation as best as possible. This was no different. When Charles grabbed up the remote turning it to CNN, she turned her attention towards the television as well noticing the attack that was happening on Washington DC and Magnus destroying the helicopter. The sight was something that brought a dark smirk to the corner of her lips and she let it fade just as quickly. Whatever she had been thinking came and left her almost instantly. Emerald hues turned towards Charles as he began to speak once more. Oh... dear God." She knew the look that he suddenly began to give her all too well. Their conversation was indeed cut short, but the only difference this time is that it would not be picked back up.
No. It was dropped completely.
When Charles Xavier began to wheel himself out of his office, leaving nothing but a barron silence to the redheaded telekinetic mutant, she watched him for mere moments before turning to face the window in which she had been looking out of prior. Delicate fingers graced the window pane gradually and it wasn't too soon after that she heard his telepathic call to the X-Men. They were needed in the War Room. They needed to be briefed. They needed to depart. To fight a battle that he couldn't fight on his own. It was almost as if the X-Men were like Chess pieces for Charles Xavier to control and Phoenix was -no- ones pawn. Her eyes narrowed gradually and the thought of thrashing Magneto and his followers intrigued her. The sweet sensation of knowing that fear is something that even the bad guys have drove her mind with powerful thoughts of what could possibly unfold. What would unfold, and she knew she had to see to it that it did. She didn't need to go with the X-Men on the legendary Blackbird to fight this battle for Charles. She couldn't stand to see Logan and Miss. Ororo Munroe at the current moment. There was no telling what the Phoenix's actions would warrent. Letting her hands pull from the window pane gradually she let it rest against her chest and then int he cusp of her left hand. Holding it against herself for only a moment, she lowered her gaze towards the ground before she felt herself overcome by the powerful urges of the Phoenix Force. As the powerful, cosmic entity began to manifest itself around her lithe frame, strawberry strands of hair began to rise as her body became nothing more than a mere shadow to the powerful flames of the firery predator.
As her form levitated itself from the ground and she vanished within the flames, the loud screeching that had been the entity grew louder as the sudden sound glass breaking and walls crumbling echoed gradually. As she tore from Charles Xavier's office, she shot through the air, the wings of the bird carrying her with great speed.
Her destination at hand was Washington D.C. </blockquote>
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