The Rose: Theft
Nov. 28th, 2006 03:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-jeangrey.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsTibet, 4 pm Tuesday, 3 am New York time.
Life at the monastery was dull. That was the point. Lack of outside distractions to allow for better inner focus. But the fact was, that life at the monastery was dull. It would be going too far to say that Jean minded the quiet - she'd made far too much progress to object to it in theory. But it did mean that, from time to time, she needed to change her routine, simply to have something change.
Today was going to be one of those days. Something had been putting her off during her meditations that morning; an odd, niggling sort of sense of offness was filtering through her and, though she didn't know what was causing it, a small change seemed in order. And, Jean decided after a particularly fruitless round of exercises, a visit to the Rose.
The Rose was the reason to come to Tibet, and to this monastery in particular. An artifact, clearly centuries old on the conservative side of the guesses, that had been designed, seemingly, by an ancient mutant forerunner, possibly a very early telepath. Using a special, focused meditation style that the monks practiced it was possible to not only gain better control over mental mutations but to actually expand past whatever limitations a mind placed on it's own powers and reach greater depths of ability. An invaluable tool, Charles had suggested in that way that he had, for Jean in her quest to regain control of all aspects of herself.
Jean didn't use it often these days - her powers were not really what she'd been that concerned about when she'd come to Tibet - but the deep meditation might help her sort out whatever it was that was niggling in the back of her mind, which seemed to be getting worse as she got closer to the door in an out of the corner of the monastery where the Rose was kept.
Mystique moved slowly, a dark shape in an even darker room, the artifact held securely under one arm. She cast one last glance around, though the room was all but empty now. A satisfied smirk crossed her lips as she let one hand rest on the handle of the door, already congratulating herself for a successful job done. A moment later she was on her way out, though she was stopped abruptly as she suddenly came face-to-face with an old acquaintance. "You," she muttered, taking a step back as Jean entered the doorway before her.
Jean was not normally slow on the uptake, but this was just about the last thing she had expected. "Mystique? What are you..." But then she saw the Rose cradled under Mystique's arm and things suddenly became very, very clear. "You're not leaving with that," Jean said.
"I'm afraid I am," Mystique replied with a sneer. She looked at Jean warily, shifting the Rose into a more secure position under her arm.
"No," Jean repeated, holding out her hand. "You're not." First, secure the artifact... Jean wrapped her mind around the Rose, pulling it away from Mystique although, worried about damaging it, she couldn't tug too hard. And, unfortunately, the time necessary to wrest it out of Mystique's secure hold was just a little longer than Jean had.
In a flash the blue-skinned woman whirled, striking out with her free hand. She wouldn't let go of the Rose, not now, but luckily it didn't hinder her too much.
Jean wasn't expecting it. She should have been, but she wasn't. Mystique's blow cracked straight across her cheekbone, knocking Jean's head to the side and, unfortunately for Jean, straight into the solid stone wall. The telekinetic tug on the Rose let up as she slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Mystique gave a low laugh at this, already heading for the door once again. "Pathetic," she murmured, giving Jean's prone form one last look before slipping outside. If anything, the encounter was even more satisfying now, and she smirked to think of the all-powerful X-Man waking up with a headache and the Rose missing. Erik would be pleased.
Life at the monastery was dull. That was the point. Lack of outside distractions to allow for better inner focus. But the fact was, that life at the monastery was dull. It would be going too far to say that Jean minded the quiet - she'd made far too much progress to object to it in theory. But it did mean that, from time to time, she needed to change her routine, simply to have something change.
Today was going to be one of those days. Something had been putting her off during her meditations that morning; an odd, niggling sort of sense of offness was filtering through her and, though she didn't know what was causing it, a small change seemed in order. And, Jean decided after a particularly fruitless round of exercises, a visit to the Rose.
The Rose was the reason to come to Tibet, and to this monastery in particular. An artifact, clearly centuries old on the conservative side of the guesses, that had been designed, seemingly, by an ancient mutant forerunner, possibly a very early telepath. Using a special, focused meditation style that the monks practiced it was possible to not only gain better control over mental mutations but to actually expand past whatever limitations a mind placed on it's own powers and reach greater depths of ability. An invaluable tool, Charles had suggested in that way that he had, for Jean in her quest to regain control of all aspects of herself.
Jean didn't use it often these days - her powers were not really what she'd been that concerned about when she'd come to Tibet - but the deep meditation might help her sort out whatever it was that was niggling in the back of her mind, which seemed to be getting worse as she got closer to the door in an out of the corner of the monastery where the Rose was kept.
Mystique moved slowly, a dark shape in an even darker room, the artifact held securely under one arm. She cast one last glance around, though the room was all but empty now. A satisfied smirk crossed her lips as she let one hand rest on the handle of the door, already congratulating herself for a successful job done. A moment later she was on her way out, though she was stopped abruptly as she suddenly came face-to-face with an old acquaintance. "You," she muttered, taking a step back as Jean entered the doorway before her.
Jean was not normally slow on the uptake, but this was just about the last thing she had expected. "Mystique? What are you..." But then she saw the Rose cradled under Mystique's arm and things suddenly became very, very clear. "You're not leaving with that," Jean said.
"I'm afraid I am," Mystique replied with a sneer. She looked at Jean warily, shifting the Rose into a more secure position under her arm.
"No," Jean repeated, holding out her hand. "You're not." First, secure the artifact... Jean wrapped her mind around the Rose, pulling it away from Mystique although, worried about damaging it, she couldn't tug too hard. And, unfortunately, the time necessary to wrest it out of Mystique's secure hold was just a little longer than Jean had.
In a flash the blue-skinned woman whirled, striking out with her free hand. She wouldn't let go of the Rose, not now, but luckily it didn't hinder her too much.
Jean wasn't expecting it. She should have been, but she wasn't. Mystique's blow cracked straight across her cheekbone, knocking Jean's head to the side and, unfortunately for Jean, straight into the solid stone wall. The telekinetic tug on the Rose let up as she slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Mystique gave a low laugh at this, already heading for the door once again. "Pathetic," she murmured, giving Jean's prone form one last look before slipping outside. If anything, the encounter was even more satisfying now, and she smirked to think of the all-powerful X-Man waking up with a headache and the Rose missing. Erik would be pleased.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}