LOG: Scott and Marius, Monday afternoon
Oct. 17th, 2005 01:16 pmEveryone has some difficulty readjusting their reality-circuits when they first come to Xavier's. Fortunately, Scott's around for Marius'.
Marius was doing pushups. He liked pushups. They didn't require thinking, and that was good, because he was still having trouble wrapping his head around the encounter with Forge.
Marius was accustomed to being too busy with school, sport, or friends to have time alone with his thoughts, and now that he did he was discovering he didn't like it. It was just the same few thoughts chasing each other around in circles, like an argument with no end. It was frustrating. He needed something to do, and there was only so many exercises he could perform in a hospital room.
Scott paused at the door, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the young man doing very energetic pushups. "You up for the heavy exercising, Marius?" he asked patiently, then essayed a faint smile as the boy looked up at him. "I would be Scott. Summers. The headmaster around here."
Marius looked up at the voice, his body paused a few inches above the floor. Another mutant, this one wearing red-tinted sunglasses. Marius pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands together to rid the fingerless gloves of nonexistant lint.
"Mr. Summers," Marius repeated, automatically extending his hand. "Nice t' meet you. Gather it's been a busy week."
Scott nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to come and see you before now," he said, the slight smile lingering. "I try to meet all the new students when they first get here. That wasn't really an option with you, but still... a longer delay than I would have liked."
"No worries. I'll take being healthy and bored over being sick and comatose any day." He glanced down at his extended hand and snorted, a wry smile forming. "Though maybe I shouldn't be offerin' this, considering."
"It's all right, you know," Scott said, his head tilting a little as he regarded Marius. "We've had worse accidents with powers around here. We don't expect newly emerged mutants to have control."
Marius shrugged and lowered the hand, some of the wryness fading from his smile. "So I'm told. This place is . . . a bit different than I'm used to." He stuck his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and shook his head. "Forge said a 'welcome to the madhouse' speech was standard procedure here. Startin' to see why."
"Occasionally we go whole days without crises. We're all very shocked when that happens," Scott said, in a tone that would have been whimsical if it hadn't been so tired. He glanced at the closest chair, then shrugged mentally and went over to sit down. "So how are you settling in?"
"Best as can be expected, what with not bein' allowed to leave the lab. Might get the go for physical therapy soon, though." Marius studied the man, not really caring whether he noticed. Summers was . . . tired. Like everyone here seemed to be. But it was more than just physical. The headmaster looked like a man who'd been playing a string of losing games for far too long, and knew there was no chance of pulling the latest around at the last minute.
Another person living in that other world, the one Marius still couldn't see himself as part of. He couldn't begin to imagine what pressure was grinding this man into the dust, and now, with that nagging, inescapable feeling of unease from that morning still fresh in his mind, he didn't want to start.
Marius dragged his eyes away from the tired curve of Summers' shoulders "So, is there a pitch? Moira'a been helping me on treating the mutant thing, but she said you lot are the ones to go to for the practical. Control and that. I know this place is a school, but in the state I was in when Dad was tellin' it the details didn't much stick."
"No pitch," Scott said with another brief smile. "Or, well, usually
there is a pitch, but I don't have the energy just now." He sighed and
leaned back into the chair. "it may take us a while," he said
forthrightly, "to figure out just how to help you. From what I
understand, your mutation is fairly... novel. Certainly, we haven't
had a student here who does the sort of thing you do."
"What, go off an' attack people when they get hungry?" Marius grinned. "Well, that's reassuring." He studied Scott, curious. "What's your power? I can spot you're a mutant, an' I can tell you're different from the others I've met, but I don't get the specifics." That sixth sense, that awareness of mutants, was still new to him. He'd seen many mutants in the past few days, all singing to that new sense with different takes on the same theme. He still didn't understand it, but he was at least learning to differentiate.
"I'm an energy-projector," Scott said, remembering telling this very
thing to Tommy. "My eyes," he said, touching his glasses. "Basically,
as your fellow students would say, I blow shit up. But I got hurt, not
long after I manifested, and the brain damage means that I can't shut
off my optic blasts. So I have to wear these glasses 24/7."
"But you should be able to control it," Marius said. He scratched at a gloved wrist thoughtfully. "Is it usually like that? Controllable?"
"I wouldn't know," Scott admitted. "I never had control. Presumably, I
should have." Although Alex's control problems made him wonder.
"But most people do," Marius insisted. "Most of the students. You help them." He was aware that his tone was verging on disrespectful, but wasn't sure why. The man wasn't being rude, or even unpleasant, but Marius found himself getting angry. He needed some certainty about his future, but for all the tests he'd sat through and all the efforts of the staff no one seemed able to provide it. It was -- it was unacceptable, is what it was. It was their job to help him, wasn't it? But so far he hadn't heard a single solid assurance that he would ever leave the lab, let alone that he wouldn't end up wasting away in a hospital bed again, barely capable of thought and so weak he couldn't even bring himself to care.
"We do our best," Scott said, perceiving the uncertainty behind the
anger. "And our best, Marius, is very good indeed. We have some of the
top minds on the subject of mutation working right here at the school,
and the rest of us have had a lot of experience working on the
practical level with young people trying to get a handle on their
powers." He offered another smile, calm, meant to be reassuring.
"We've had to deal with young mutants with problems of all shapes and
sizes thanks to nature having tweaked their genes. And the one thing
that we try not to do is give up." He thought of Amanda, then, but
stifled the sigh.
"Try," Marius repeated, but the calm in Scott's voice reminded him that nothing would be served by being irrational. Whinging at the headmaster was not the way to begin his stay here. And anyway, it was beneath him.
"Suppose I can't ask for much more'n a rescue from Magneto's worth," he said, stepping on his frustration and trying to edge back to levity. "Have to admit, that's a hell of a recommendation."
Scott gave him a steady look. "You'll hear a lot of stuff from your
fellow students, once you get out of here," he said. "Tales... horror
stories, even, about some of the things that have happened here over
the last couple of years." He paused for a moment, then went on,
almost matter-of-factly. "They're mostly true. I won't lie to you.
Because of the very nature of the school, plus what the staff does in
their, uh, spare time-" Well, there was a hell of an euphemism. "-we
attract possibly more than our fair share of trouble." He shifted in
his chair. "But we handle it," he went on evenly, "and we learn from
our mistakes. And all things considered, here is still a pretty good
place to be. One of the few places it is good to be, for people
in your position."
Marius bit back his immediate response to a phrase like "people in your position"; it implied an assumption of leverage on the part of the other party that, in his experience, inevitably turned out to be unfounded. Now, though, it wasn't coming from someone who was only trying to intimidate him. He had to focus on that, and resist the urge to fall back on old habits just because he could use a little familiarity.
"Can't say I've ever been involved in anythin' like an international incident," Marius replied, "but I've had plenty experience with trouble. Doesn't much worry me." Which was true, though he decided not to mention most of the trouble he'd been involved with hadn't existed until he'd created it. His parents probably hadn't included a copy of his police record with the medical files. ...Probably.
Scott raised an eyebrow, repressing a smile at the faintly furtive
look the young man acquired. Oh, to be a telepath at times like
this... "I'm glad you're not worried. Just keep in mind that if
you hear, or come across anything that does worry you, I and
the rest of the staff are here to help clear things up. If you have
any problems at all once you're out from under the doctors' care, just
speak up. Oh, and I imagine the Professor will want to meet you once
you're up and around, too."
"I'm ready when he is," Marius assured the man. He gestured to himself, grinning. "I may look like a bundle'a sticks, but I'm better. Stable. Not attacking people and everything."
"He may give you tea," Scott said. "Just to warn you." He let himself
smile. "And the lack of attacking people is much appreciated, thank
you. Okay, so stranger things relating to new mutations have happened
around here, but I always like to see the paranoia minimized..."
Marius nodded solemnly. "It goes against every fibre of my being, but I'll try to limit my terrorizing. For a bit, at least." The frustration had left him now, much to his relief. He hadn't enjoyed carrying that around with him, even for a brief time, and it was amazing how easily talking to the headmaster had lifted it. Not enough activity, he thought. He didn't do well with nothing to occupy his time, that was it. Surely things would be better once he was allowed to leave the medlab.
Marius was doing pushups. He liked pushups. They didn't require thinking, and that was good, because he was still having trouble wrapping his head around the encounter with Forge.
Marius was accustomed to being too busy with school, sport, or friends to have time alone with his thoughts, and now that he did he was discovering he didn't like it. It was just the same few thoughts chasing each other around in circles, like an argument with no end. It was frustrating. He needed something to do, and there was only so many exercises he could perform in a hospital room.
Scott paused at the door, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the young man doing very energetic pushups. "You up for the heavy exercising, Marius?" he asked patiently, then essayed a faint smile as the boy looked up at him. "I would be Scott. Summers. The headmaster around here."
Marius looked up at the voice, his body paused a few inches above the floor. Another mutant, this one wearing red-tinted sunglasses. Marius pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands together to rid the fingerless gloves of nonexistant lint.
"Mr. Summers," Marius repeated, automatically extending his hand. "Nice t' meet you. Gather it's been a busy week."
Scott nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to come and see you before now," he said, the slight smile lingering. "I try to meet all the new students when they first get here. That wasn't really an option with you, but still... a longer delay than I would have liked."
"No worries. I'll take being healthy and bored over being sick and comatose any day." He glanced down at his extended hand and snorted, a wry smile forming. "Though maybe I shouldn't be offerin' this, considering."
"It's all right, you know," Scott said, his head tilting a little as he regarded Marius. "We've had worse accidents with powers around here. We don't expect newly emerged mutants to have control."
Marius shrugged and lowered the hand, some of the wryness fading from his smile. "So I'm told. This place is . . . a bit different than I'm used to." He stuck his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and shook his head. "Forge said a 'welcome to the madhouse' speech was standard procedure here. Startin' to see why."
"Occasionally we go whole days without crises. We're all very shocked when that happens," Scott said, in a tone that would have been whimsical if it hadn't been so tired. He glanced at the closest chair, then shrugged mentally and went over to sit down. "So how are you settling in?"
"Best as can be expected, what with not bein' allowed to leave the lab. Might get the go for physical therapy soon, though." Marius studied the man, not really caring whether he noticed. Summers was . . . tired. Like everyone here seemed to be. But it was more than just physical. The headmaster looked like a man who'd been playing a string of losing games for far too long, and knew there was no chance of pulling the latest around at the last minute.
Another person living in that other world, the one Marius still couldn't see himself as part of. He couldn't begin to imagine what pressure was grinding this man into the dust, and now, with that nagging, inescapable feeling of unease from that morning still fresh in his mind, he didn't want to start.
Marius dragged his eyes away from the tired curve of Summers' shoulders "So, is there a pitch? Moira'a been helping me on treating the mutant thing, but she said you lot are the ones to go to for the practical. Control and that. I know this place is a school, but in the state I was in when Dad was tellin' it the details didn't much stick."
"No pitch," Scott said with another brief smile. "Or, well, usually
there is a pitch, but I don't have the energy just now." He sighed and
leaned back into the chair. "it may take us a while," he said
forthrightly, "to figure out just how to help you. From what I
understand, your mutation is fairly... novel. Certainly, we haven't
had a student here who does the sort of thing you do."
"What, go off an' attack people when they get hungry?" Marius grinned. "Well, that's reassuring." He studied Scott, curious. "What's your power? I can spot you're a mutant, an' I can tell you're different from the others I've met, but I don't get the specifics." That sixth sense, that awareness of mutants, was still new to him. He'd seen many mutants in the past few days, all singing to that new sense with different takes on the same theme. He still didn't understand it, but he was at least learning to differentiate.
"I'm an energy-projector," Scott said, remembering telling this very
thing to Tommy. "My eyes," he said, touching his glasses. "Basically,
as your fellow students would say, I blow shit up. But I got hurt, not
long after I manifested, and the brain damage means that I can't shut
off my optic blasts. So I have to wear these glasses 24/7."
"But you should be able to control it," Marius said. He scratched at a gloved wrist thoughtfully. "Is it usually like that? Controllable?"
"I wouldn't know," Scott admitted. "I never had control. Presumably, I
should have." Although Alex's control problems made him wonder.
"But most people do," Marius insisted. "Most of the students. You help them." He was aware that his tone was verging on disrespectful, but wasn't sure why. The man wasn't being rude, or even unpleasant, but Marius found himself getting angry. He needed some certainty about his future, but for all the tests he'd sat through and all the efforts of the staff no one seemed able to provide it. It was -- it was unacceptable, is what it was. It was their job to help him, wasn't it? But so far he hadn't heard a single solid assurance that he would ever leave the lab, let alone that he wouldn't end up wasting away in a hospital bed again, barely capable of thought and so weak he couldn't even bring himself to care.
"We do our best," Scott said, perceiving the uncertainty behind the
anger. "And our best, Marius, is very good indeed. We have some of the
top minds on the subject of mutation working right here at the school,
and the rest of us have had a lot of experience working on the
practical level with young people trying to get a handle on their
powers." He offered another smile, calm, meant to be reassuring.
"We've had to deal with young mutants with problems of all shapes and
sizes thanks to nature having tweaked their genes. And the one thing
that we try not to do is give up." He thought of Amanda, then, but
stifled the sigh.
"Try," Marius repeated, but the calm in Scott's voice reminded him that nothing would be served by being irrational. Whinging at the headmaster was not the way to begin his stay here. And anyway, it was beneath him.
"Suppose I can't ask for much more'n a rescue from Magneto's worth," he said, stepping on his frustration and trying to edge back to levity. "Have to admit, that's a hell of a recommendation."
Scott gave him a steady look. "You'll hear a lot of stuff from your
fellow students, once you get out of here," he said. "Tales... horror
stories, even, about some of the things that have happened here over
the last couple of years." He paused for a moment, then went on,
almost matter-of-factly. "They're mostly true. I won't lie to you.
Because of the very nature of the school, plus what the staff does in
their, uh, spare time-" Well, there was a hell of an euphemism. "-we
attract possibly more than our fair share of trouble." He shifted in
his chair. "But we handle it," he went on evenly, "and we learn from
our mistakes. And all things considered, here is still a pretty good
place to be. One of the few places it is good to be, for people
in your position."
Marius bit back his immediate response to a phrase like "people in your position"; it implied an assumption of leverage on the part of the other party that, in his experience, inevitably turned out to be unfounded. Now, though, it wasn't coming from someone who was only trying to intimidate him. He had to focus on that, and resist the urge to fall back on old habits just because he could use a little familiarity.
"Can't say I've ever been involved in anythin' like an international incident," Marius replied, "but I've had plenty experience with trouble. Doesn't much worry me." Which was true, though he decided not to mention most of the trouble he'd been involved with hadn't existed until he'd created it. His parents probably hadn't included a copy of his police record with the medical files. ...Probably.
Scott raised an eyebrow, repressing a smile at the faintly furtive
look the young man acquired. Oh, to be a telepath at times like
this... "I'm glad you're not worried. Just keep in mind that if
you hear, or come across anything that does worry you, I and
the rest of the staff are here to help clear things up. If you have
any problems at all once you're out from under the doctors' care, just
speak up. Oh, and I imagine the Professor will want to meet you once
you're up and around, too."
"I'm ready when he is," Marius assured the man. He gestured to himself, grinning. "I may look like a bundle'a sticks, but I'm better. Stable. Not attacking people and everything."
"He may give you tea," Scott said. "Just to warn you." He let himself
smile. "And the lack of attacking people is much appreciated, thank
you. Okay, so stranger things relating to new mutations have happened
around here, but I always like to see the paranoia minimized..."
Marius nodded solemnly. "It goes against every fibre of my being, but I'll try to limit my terrorizing. For a bit, at least." The frustration had left him now, much to his relief. He hadn't enjoyed carrying that around with him, even for a brief time, and it was amazing how easily talking to the headmaster had lifted it. Not enough activity, he thought. He didn't do well with nothing to occupy his time, that was it. Surely things would be better once he was allowed to leave the medlab.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-17 07:48 pm (UTC)