2014-06-26 I Promise
Players: Wolverine, Jean Grey and Ember
GMed by Joss Whedon
Title: I Promise

Rating: E Warning: Sappy Stuff <3

Fresh out of the Harlem crises, Logan returns to the mansion to pack his bags. But before he can go, he has to face a very new confused student, and a very worried(?) redhead.

It was a good idea at the time. Shotgun her school records to a few dozen private schools as far east of the Mississippi River as she could find and then shack up at a hotel hitting interviews until she found one that clicked. What one Miss Ember Reynolds didn't figure on was that so many of them would be out in the sticks and she'd be spending a painful cut of her savings on taxis and car services. Oh, well… five down, and the next contestant is…

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. To be honest, after reading up on this one she didn't expect to get an admissions interview at this one. Everything she read made it out like the place was extremely picky about their students and academics wasn't necessarily their main criteria. But the mid-price towncar has pulled up to the gate and the five-foot-barely teen has gotten out to approach the gate. Today she's wearing herself as a pixie-cut blonde with light caramel skin and grey eyes. Clean but well-worn kakhis and a yellow dress shirt are the uniform of the day. A quick press of the intercom buzzer follows.

A half hour ago, a large number of buildings in Harlem blew up. The consequences were as dire as they were sickening. The perpetrators were, of course, who else? Hydra.

Logan had been in the middle of it all. He'd been in one of the many buildings when they went down, he was in the wreckage, and only his healing factor kept him alive. His mind was obsessed with tracking down the sons of bitches responsible, and gutting them slowly. But he couldn't do it in sweatpants and no shoes, and so he'd told the Quinjet to make a quick stop at his place. The big, powerful advanced craft blitzed toward the X-Mansion quickly and noiselessly hovered while it blocked the sunlight. A single rope dropped down, at enough of a distance that it made a loud


when it landed, and moments later a short, stocky man slid down that rope and hit the ground far faster, and far harder, than a man really should. He was bare-chested, dressed in grey sweatpants with a very particular logo, looking like a mix between a bird and a shield, which fit considering who that logo belonged to. The palms of his hands stripped away, blood trickling even as the skin scabbed over and started regrowing, the right side of his face looked scarred and horrific like he'd just been in a terrible accident. It wasn't far from the truth, except the scars looked like they happened years ago instead of momentarily. His black hair looked like it was growing in shorter on the right side of his head, and his eyes were burning with intensity and hatred as he walked toward the door Ember was in front of. He was rapidly approaching, and a snarl was on his face. His voice, when he spoke, sounded badly mangled, even though his question seemed completely out of left field.

"Hey. New kid? Welcome ta Xavier's, ya finally have a home. Now get outta the goddamn way."

Besides the news reports that were hitting the airwaves and the psychic waves coming from all over the place, they hadn't heard much about what was going on in Harlem. Jean, instead, responded to the intercom to meet the new student. Dressed in her preppy best, the young woman smiled as she reached the gate a few moments before Logan does, "Ah, you must be…." her voice trails off as the Quinjet appeared above them and Logan slid down on the rope. Before he can say anything, "And here comes our gym coach now." Her eyes grow concerned as she sees the damage Logan had, "Logan, what happened?!" She opened the gate for him though, as well as waving Ember in too.

Wait, what? Ember didn't listen to the news in the car. Too busy beating herself into what she's started refering to as 'preppie zombie mode', trying to find the magic combination of ability and apparent maleability that's seemed to work a bit at other interviews. So when the redhead opens the door, she's standing straight with all her illusionary features tightly in place, extending her hand in greeting when the sun gets blotted out. Good thing her fake skintone doesn't show how quickly and completely she goes pale but the suddenly locked spine and widened eyes at the unexpected darkening are there. And then there's a bloody, barely dressed man sliding barehanded down a rope from some kind of x-wing or something, healing at the same time he's dripping on the porch.

She manages to keep herself together enough to notice Jean's waving her in and follows a few steps behind, almost forgetting to pick up the small courier's bag her paperwork is in. "Um… I mean, what?" Really smooth, Siobhan. Truly they'll trip over themselves to admit you with that stellar vocabulary.

The Little Bigman strode into the house like he owned it, left food bandaged tightly even though he didn't limp, and in fact put full pressure on the 'wound'. He rolled his neck to let the metal-covered bones there crackle and pop loudly as he spoke.

"Jean, I don't got time ta talk. But it's bad in Harlem, and I saw the bastards who did it. I just came here ta pack my gear, after that I'm takin' off after 'em. I -promise- I'm comin' back, red."

The way he spoke was earnest, and his eyes softened just a little while he addressed the gorgeous, redheaded woman. There was a history there, a definite history. But after that it was gone, and he turned toward the new kid to sniff his nose at her a few times. He studied her closely for a moment, before speaking again.

"Don't worry kid, yer safe here. Yer gonna love it. Now 'scuse me."

With that, he was turning his back, making his way toward the stairs, about to storm up toward his room if nobody moved to stop him…

Jean pauses for a moment and turns back to the prospective new student and smiles a bit, wearily, "Sorry, my name is Jean Grey, welcome to the school. If you'll come inside, we'll get you settled." Logan needed attention though and she turned to him, reaching up with a hand to touch some of the wounds on his face, "Just what happened out there, Logan? The news said something about an explosion." She sighed as she looked up at him silently for a moment, "You promised, so you better be. Where are they? Do we need to scramble the…." she glanced over at Ember, "uh….them?" She grabbed at his arm, "Logan, stop. For two seconds. Calm down. I can feel the just how worked up you are."

Being spoken to directly serves to snap Ember's accelerated brain into gear. She gives her head a quick shake and her 'preppy zombie' smile returns, "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Grey." Then her eyes narrow in confusion at the rest, "Wait, settled? You mean for my interview, right? I'm supposed to meet a," she fumbles a bit to pull out the form on institute letterhead, but doesn't continue because she starts to pick up on the conversation between Jean and Logan. "Maybe this isn't a great time for an admissions interview?"

Logan didn't want to stop. But for her…for her…he turned around and breathed in deep, oxygen filling his lungs and broadening his chest of his for a moment before he softened. His hand reached out, scabbed over palm that had stopped bleeding pressing against her shoulder.

"Listen, this is something I gotta do, I don't want ya or the crew gettin' involved just yet, an' I'm gonna be back before ya know it. But I hafta leave now, every second I stay here standin' and talkin', our trail gets colder. Jean, I -have- to go. I'm sorry."

And before he went up that staircase a final time, he glanced over at the kid.

"Nonsense, go right up that hallway, yer gonna see a bald guy inna wheelchair. Eyebrows like a Yeti. Ya can't miss him."

And with that, he was storming up toward his room, to make pack his things as quickly as humanly possible.

Jean sighed and stroked his cheek again with her fingers as she looked up at him talking, "Alright, go get him, Logan. We're here if you need us, you just have to call." As he turned and moved off, "Good luck, Logan. You better come back!" Then he was gone and she looked over at Ember, "He's talking about Professor Xavier, who runs the institute. He's the contact point the school has had with you, he'll handle your…interview and we'll go from there. That was Logan, one of our instructors. Don't mind him."

"Gym teacher, right. I hope he knows that rope climbing went out with leisure suits, mirror balls, and other things I learned about in history class." Ember has started coming a bit back to herself, deciding that perhaps in this company she'd be better served with her own personality instead of the canned one. Her remarks about Logan are certainly pitched so he can hear them. Of course, not even her best illusions can do anything about the note of confused concern in her voice. But since Logan has gone away she focuses on Jean once more, nodding at her mention of Xavier. "Right. Charles Xavier, that's who the letter said I was supposed to talk to about my admissions request." She glances down at the official letterhead in her hand, "I haven't actually talked to anyone here before just now. It was all just letters and emails, really." She blinks quickly and shifts her gaze to Jean, "Yeti eyebrows?"

It seemed that in no time at all, Logan had all he needed. A quick wifebeater thrown on, a pair of boots clutched in his hand, and three duffelbags strapped over one shoulder. It looked like that much weight would have slown anyone else down, would have caused their legs to bow and cause them to stagger, but it seemed he was his normal self while he all but stampeded down the stairs. He was nearly out the door, it opened and the light illuminating him before he turned around, and gave Jean a long look. He studied her with unblinking eyes, but it was only a moment. After that, the door was closed. And he was gone.

Jean rolled her eyes, "He just means the Professor has thick eyebrows, don't take everything he says seriously. You'll like the professor, I know he's been looking forward to meeting you and discussing your gifts." Of course with Logan coming back down she gets distracted and turns to meet his gaze for a long moment. As he continues on, she has a worried look but gives him a small wave as he goes.

Although she started this whole encounter getting quickly flat-footed, Ember has gotten herself steadied a bit more with each step inside the building. So when Jean speaks of the Professor she gets a bit wary. "Well I can only guess that wanting to put a face to the souless emails, statistics and GPAs would be something to look forward to." And did the room get just a bit darker there for a few seconds at the mention of gifts, like lights dimming when the microwave is turned on. "Well it does say 'School for the Gifted' on the plaque, right? Can't be too many folks at freshman age looking to finish out their high school classes and kick into college levels." She says this with a degree of total sincerity in her voice, posture, and even her mental manner. The smokescreen that believes fully that it's the truth.

"Oh yes, he's a wonderful man. If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't have this safe place to explore our talents and lean," Jean replied almost like a brochure as they moved into the foyer more. She narrowed her eyes at the lights for a moment before continuing, "I'm actually a graduate here, currently attending college in the city, but I still stick around here and help out." Jean looks at her curious, doing her best not to pry mentally or otherwise.

Ember is perfectly happy to maintain this kind of conversation. Perhaps she's just trying to regain a sense of normalcy under the sound of retreating spaceplane engines outside? "This place seems more like an old money mansion than a school, really. I'd guess that it's been in the Professor's family for a while?" Watch it, Siobhan. Keep the tone out of the comments. Not like you didn't go into the whole private school search with eyes open. But back to the issues at hand, "So it's the kind of place that alumni like to come back to. Definitely a point in this place's favor." Maybe some of the relaxed note to her overal tone is less of a front at this point. And no, she doesn't mention anything about it being the kind of place where people stagger through the door half-dead without drawing more attention than the cable guy. But she can see that they're approaching the door with the Professor's nameplate.

"The Professor's family was wealthy, yes. This was their family home at one point and he converted it into a school for us to learn in," Jean continued as she gestured around the foyer. "We have a fairly large population of students, all with unique gifts and talents and this is a place where they can learn in a safe environment without fear, danger, or prejudice." She pauses at the door and looks at her, "This place is like any other school around, trust me when I say that. You'll fit in just fine." She grins a little bit as a mental voice comes from the room, inviting the Ember in, "There we go. I'll see you later after you've talked with him." With that, she turned the door knob for the girl and opened the door to let her pass.

Scene. End Log.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License