2016-02-12 An Offer of Help
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Emma and Mike
GMed by .
Title: An Offer of Help

Just west of the market there are houses all in a row that lead to a large stretch of beach. The sands here are white and the water is crystal clear. Walking too far north will lead to a large group of trees and into the rocky foothills of the Ridgeback Mountains.

It's been a rough couple of days on the island since Sam disobeyed her and went with his own rogue plan, effectively halting everyone elses work and progress towards the mass escape or take over of the island. Emma has taken it pretty hard, but she refuses to show it, only chosing to instead galvanize her once student nearly as much as the humans. She's found herself on the beach at sunset and wears a tattered bikini, that's not even white, I know, God forbid, and is proped up on her elbows on a makeshift towel, watching the sun sink on her paradise hell island.

Fortunately for the queen of hell island, there are a few folks having fitful dreams already. Particuarly around the sheltered areas that house the sick. With Sam's videos making the rounds online, Mike has a general idea of key features to look out in his search. Today's search trecking through the dreams has proven a bit more successful than the past few. Stepping out, the still unseen form frowns as he looks towards the ill. God damn sentinels.

The beach is on the other side of a thin tree line from the main campsites and where the mutant society has begun building up as of late. Emma takes a deep breath and lays fully down, trying to absorb the sounds of the surf and the orange warm glow on her skin and brushing under her eyelids to her brain, she's feeling a reluctant sense of comfort.

Not quite sure where the appointed leader is, Phantasm quietly steps through the building with the easily upsetable sick people to an area where he doesn't see anyone nearby. Safe to appear, most likely. Un-Phantasming, Mike doesn't look quite like himself. Forgoing the usual dark colors that the rocker prefers in both work and play, Mike's attire is a bit more suited for the environment of the island although made to look impromptu. Worn down kahki pants with plenty of pockets, a light white shirt with sleeves that, although long, is thin enough to allow for the skin to breathe. Large sunglasses, stubble from not shaving for the past few days, and his signature hair pulled back into a never before used man bun style. And in stark contrast, a rather large backpack resting on both of his shoulders. The human glances around the makeshift society of mutants curiously. Hmm. Where should he look first?

"What?!" Emma asks, standing up, as her mind is met with an unfamiliar figure suddenly on the island. "There shouldn't be any body appearing this time of day." She says to herself as she rolls over and gets onto her feet. The bare feet feel great on the beach but they are wildly dirty from all the time without a nice pair of heels to keep the rest of the island beheath her. Walking directly to Mike, the blonde gives him a greeting, "How'd you get here?" Knowing via mental probe it wasn't sentinels.

Mike blinks as he is greeted quickly by Emma, recognizing her from some celebrity charity events. "Miss Frost?" He asks, not hiding the surprise in his voice, "You're here?"

"Yes Mister Hannigan." She responds, not ashamed of her attire, but conscious of hte dirt caked on her feet. "You shouldn't be here. What're you doing?" She states this, knowing he's not a mutant, and not caring the musician knows her as a mutant any more, she cares about these people, her people. "You're here to save mutants. … Why?"

As Emma summarizes Mike's intent, he tilts his head. Well, guess that answers why Frost is here. "You seem to be doing a great job answering your own questions." He replies, no amusement for the invasion of his thoughts. But if she happens to tread on something upsetting, that's on her, not him. "Because you don't need to be mutant to know what's happening here is wrong." He frowns, hands tightening on the bag of supplies as he considers the exchange. "You'll do." He decides aloud, glancing around to make sure others aren't listening in just yet. "Do you have someplace here private to discuss things?"

"Sorry Mike, I'm a telepath and haven't lately been concerned about being refined and blocking out the thoughts has only ever gotten me in trouble." Emma says with a half tilt of her head and a soft frown then a gesture with her hand towards a mud hut not too far to the north of where they are now. "Right over here." She says, wanting to give him a hug, but also, needing to be a leader and realize he's a human, powered, but just a human and the others might frown upon her being soft.

Mike nods, turning to head to the hut but hanging behind a little to let Emma lead the way in. Her place and all. Upon entering in, he starts. "Ok. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"I can read you mind like you're already telling me Hannigan, why not just say it. Please." Emma puts on the kindness at the end to make herself be more polite as she's under quite a bit of stress with planning the escape part two and she's considering developing this place fully into a mutant nation.

Mike nods. "Ok a mix of both then. We've figured out a way to get a chunk of you guys off the island bit by bit. But we can't get everyone off. It would require some coordination on your part so as not to tip off the Sentinels to what's going on." He slides the backpack off. "I'd need a few days to coordinate on the other side to get things in order. Pass along general estimates of how many sick and injured to be expecting so we can have medical attention ready." He crouches down to unfasten the straps on it. "Regardless of if you accept our help or not, I've gotten a small amount of supplies for you. Hopefully they can help a little."

Emma reaches her hand out to take the bag and gives Mike an apologetic smile. "You've been awfully kind Hannigan, you are a friend of the mutants and we'll get this whole ordeal straightened up soon. As soon as we can all get off and then remake this place how we see fit. I think it's about time mutants have a land of their own."

Mike slides the bag over, "So, everyone's opted to stay here?" Unlike Emma. Mike is NOT a mind reade- well, non-dream mind reader. Now someone on the other side of the island IS having an interesting dream about squirrels arguing with chipmunks but he's trying to tune that one out. He pauses, shaking his head. "The offer to get those who want or need to get off the island is still there."

"I never said no to your offer, and it's one my- we will gladly accept, there's only so much the healers on the island can do, especially without a place to really get some good rest." She says, setting the bag down, just outside the door and knowing it's safe until she distributes it. "Not everyone, but many of them understand being teleported while awful and shitty isn't the worst thing that could have happened." She explains.

"Ok." Mike nods, "I'll need a general estimate of how many sick and injured we'll probably need to move out of here along with when you'd like for us to come back to take them." He pauses, "This time around it is just me that came over. I didn't see the need to bring them until we had things in place."

"As soon as you can, like you said, sick and injured." Emma says, thinking this will actually help her level of authority over the islanders. "We appreciate your generosity and hospitality Micheal." She says with a smirk.

"Very well." Mike reaches into one of the pants pockets, returning the smile as he pulls out a notepad and pen. The sooner the better, so let's iron out some of the details…

fadey mc fade fade…

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