1963-12-05 - Operational Failure
Summary: Off to try to find the box Gabriel came in, the crew meets up with a teleporting Dadneto and Crystal. Arguments ensue, teenaged angst and blame is passed around and no one leaves happy.
Related: http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-12-05-snacks-and-broken-tables
Theme Song: None
jean crystal magneto lorna rogue gabriel 

The drive into Hell's Kitchen was met with silence. An hour after their lunch in the cafeteria, Jean actually loaned Lorna an outfit that was comprised of all black. With an X in the middle. Granted, Jean said nothing of what the X meant or why she would get such a thing, but she has one, for now. Which is to be returned post haste as soon as they return to the mansion.

Hers was of a similar outfit, though hers came with a hood that covers most of her eyes and all of her hair. But at least she could still see out of the damned thing.

"I told Scarlett to meet us out here. She was there when she found Gabriel." Gabriel who, had .. well, not an outfit. She wasn't done making his just yet. "But.. turn a left up here, I think?"


Lorna fidgeted with the black costume constantly as they drove, her lips pursed together as she kept glancing at her former roommate with a look of concern as she turned left as directed. Green hair pulled back into a ponytail, and for once she was glad she'd washed out the dye to leave her natural hair visible.

"I thought we were just looking for a box, how much trouble do you think we're going to get into here?" She pursed her lips, breaking lightly as she slowed the car's speed around the corner.

"And Scarlett? Why does that name sound familiar to me.." She muttered, tilting her head to the side. "Is this gonna be one of those things were I have to use that silly codename Miss Frost had us work on?"


The redheaded bohemian dreamer doesn't bother with the streets of Hell's Kitchen. Too tight a configuration to understand where to go, too difficult a labyrinth of roads to navigate on foot. Forget that; her red hair marks her out and, in parts of the Kitchen, the Irish mob tolerates that. The Puerto Ricans? Not on your pretty life, ladies. Thus it stands Scarlett seeks a pragmatic response, this one simply flying through the thick cloud cover dawning with the afternoon, and dropping out of the cumulus ceiling. Not many people ever bother to look up, after all.

Her cloak hangs over her body and whomever decided a black leather catsuit was the way to go over a ridiculous blue and yellow flight suit wins the world. Albeit in her case, the bohemian will give both sexes nosebleeds if so inclined. She drops out of nowhere, spotting the better half of team redhead, and their newest Christmassy addition.

"Afternoon, cheries. We on for a nice walk? Jean, you take me to the best places," she calls out, landing neatly mid street. Yep. That one flies. Or really bounds with style.


"We're looking for a human sized box that could fit Gabriel in, that had chains on the inside. So probably a lot of trouble, guessing by today's logic." The day and age of the mutants, it wasn't a very happy thing. In fact, Jean was expecting much blow back because she wanted to get in and out, minimal fuss. Considering what she has planned, skimming the minds of those within the vicinity of where the box itself was.. she imagines that there was going to be some unsavory things that she would bear witness to.

Hence the outfits.

Two steps ahead, two steps backward. "I don't know? She's been at the school before.. pull over here. I can literally hear her coming." And right on cue? Scarlett joins the trio, Gabriel's little nap in the back seat was a welcome thing as Scarlett herself lands. If the car stops or not, Jean would already have her head hanging out of the window, her gaze lifted up with a hint of a smile as she waves a black gloved hand towards her friend. "I guess you could call it a nice walk? You remember this street, yeah?" She looks back towards Lorna, then gestures. "Rogue." Then points to herself. "Phoenix." She didn't help Gabriel find a name yet, but she was waiting or Lorna to intro with her own silly given name!


A huff but Lorna pulled over just in time for Scarlett/ Rogue to float down near them. She didn't gape at least, even as she put the car into park and shot Jean a look. "Next time I promise to help out, I'm gonna ask more details.." She muttered dryly, but a hint of a smile still played on her lips.

"Alright, Rogue, Phoenix.." She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled and then bit back the urge to roll her eyes.

"Polaris. Call me Polaris. Yeah.." She bit her lower lip, her cheeks turning pink faintly. "If there are chains I can at least lift up the box, I think.."


Magneto has arrived.


Jean hanging out the window of a car is worth the experience, even if done only once or twice. Her smile warms considerably facing the intrigue, and her hand executes a queenly little wave with the controlled rotation of her wrist. "Lovely, we are running under that, are we? I suppose it's only fair." A tip of her head leaves a smooth shadow running over her skin, her braids flowing to the side. That telltale shock of white is completely missing, per usual, the elaborate design of her hair unquestionably strange to anyone used to seeing it.

The blossoming of a smile graces Scarlett's lips, and she dips her head to Lorna. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Polaris. We can use names as you prefer." It might almost trend into laughter, save the difficulty of managing that.


"Polaris is cute. I like it."

The door is opened as Jean steps out the car, her hood soon tugged over her head. The gloves were given a sure fit, tugged tightly as her own catsuit well.. calls back to the days of smooth robbery scenes on television. Though those weren't worn under the banner of the X.

The door was quietly closed, for Gabriel remained asleep in the backseat, and Jean was already taking to rounding her way around the car to step out into the middle of the street when..


A car swerves, narrowly missing the poor woman.

'You got-damn kids! It ain't Hallow-weenie!' A fist is thrust out the window and shook as he rounds the corner in the same reckless speed that he created. With a shrug of her shoulders, she keeps close to the curb now, beginning to walk. "So I can't remember where he was.. exactly, but I know it was in the middle of the street. You guys look for scorch marks in the form of the box, I'm going to try to listen to see what I can hear.."


A glance was spared toward Rogue and a grimace pulled at her lips. "Yeah, no.. I'll stick with the silly name incase this gets out of hand. Thanks.." She climbed out of the car, shutting it carefully and patting the top of the car as she did. A silent prayer for whatever it is that happened, that nothing would happen to her beloved car.

Then the honk and Jean nearly getting run over steals her attention and a frown crossed her face. "Ugh, great. We stand out like sore thumbs.." She muttered, dragging a hand through her currently green bangs. Though she glanced around, trying to /feel/ for something metal and box shaped.. or chains shaped? It was hard, and all she could feel was the static buzz of all the metal objects around them in the city.

"I've got nothing.." She muttered, bending to look around for the marks that Jean mentioned.



"If it weren't bloody irresponsible, I'd insist that we stay." Erik pulls the rest of his outfit on, the same one he'd worn to that incident with the Hulk. There's no sense returning to Westchester County in his underwear, especially considering there's no guarantee that Lockjaw is going to drop them off in their room. He stretches the leather-like material over his frame, gruffing a bit as it's grown a bit tighter around the neck, which prompts him to leave it a bit unzipped.

Once he's finally ready, though, he walks over toward Crystal and pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and looking down into her eyes. "We really must do this again. Soon." There comes a smile, and then he kisses her; a long, enjoyable kiss, the kind one shares with a lover after what approximates to one day and night's worth of reckless, licentious behavior.

What he isn't expecting, mid-kiss, is for the world to blink around he and Crystal…


Two very familiar figures appear right next to the others, mid-embrace and lip-locked.


"Coming here in the first place was irresponsible," Crystal laughs to Erik, her own uniform left open at the neck, gloves tucked into her belt rather than worn. "But life is going to be busy for a bit, and I didn't want to waste the opportunity." One arm close around his waist, a hand cupped to his cheek, she gives Lockjaw the sign that they're ready…only to find herself in a place that is much colder, noisier, and dirtier than anticipated for Westchester.

Her eyes open and she takes a look around herself, concerned. "This is not…"


This is Hell's Kitchen, place where gangsters in their petty fiefdoms do whatever the hell they like and no one takes notice. The only reason vampires managed to arrest attention for more than a few seconds? Encroachment on human turf outside the warren of rotting tenements and dingy alleys. Someone looked up for a moment, a blind eye went clearer. They probably think very little about the redhead in what amounts to motorcycle attire, a punk of some kind flying no colours, except for that forest green cloak thrown overtop. "We're going for a picnic!" Scarlett calls after the car careening through the streets. "Have a lovely day!"

No doubt her very benediction will bring down doom and damnation. Nothing positive ever happens here. A passing look through the side window assures Gabriel sleeps in the backseat, and whatever questions this raises, she will ask Jean later. Instead, her cheery disposition remains sunnily so. "Look for the damage left by a large, flaming bug. It hit somewhere around the first and second floor. Scorched facade, if you like. The alley cut back from the building and ended in a blind court."

Probably a blind court they would all like to be facing right now. The warp of teleportation has her probably reacting first among them, shifting with a rather rapid step in front of Jean. "Back!"


The brief walk along the curb was stopped as soon as she heard Lorna's words. "Keep trying!" Is all Jean could really offer up as encouragement. The battered soul and the need to do something good was prevalent, for once her hand draws up, the shout of Rogue gains her attention as well as the succoring pop of teleportation by way of Lockjaw. With a turn and a step aside, Jean espies the two with a slight frown, there were no words spared for the newcomers, just only a shake of her head as she turns -right- back around to continue on her current modus operandi.

With an inhale to steel her resolve, she presses forward with that singular press to her temple and a few steps forward with eyes closed. "It's just -them-." She says to Rogue, though knowing full well Lorna would be rather excited. "You want to take to the skies to see if it's over the dumpster? I'm going to try to look and see if I find any memory worth of note."

Behind closed lids was dark, but as she expands.. little embers of flames begin to mark their territory in the darkness..

'Look at you! Aren't you just the prettiest thing I've ever seen..'
'Fucking rents due, lights are going to be cut off.. I can't get anything for the kids for Christmas..'
'Santa baby.. something something.. what were the words to that song again..'
'Get back you crazy ass dog! No.. no.. that line isn't going to work..'
'I'm going to kill him, I swear to god I'm going to kill him..'

Many of the voices in Hell's Kitchen filter through, their surface thoughts invaded as she tries to sink deeper.. this was going to take some damn work.


Lorna grimaced, continuing her trek to look for the vague description of burned, scorch marks, her lips pursed together as she bent her head to look. While the teleportation itself wasn't immediately noticed for what it was, she sensed the the shift of the magnetic fields that announced her father's presence. Yet the picture of her father liplocked with Crystal just /appearing/ was a little jarring.

Like all good teenagers seeing a parent having any kind of affections of the amorous sort, Lorna made a face and threw up her hands. "Ugh, Tata!"

Lorna was decidedly not looking like her usual self in that black uniform with an 'x', /green/ hair pulled up and back into a high ponytail.


Erik opens his eyes, about the same time he recognizes the blast of cold air that suggests they were not teleported into the mansion. He looks around, then suddenly pulls away, though his arms are still wrapped around Crystal. "What -!"

Jean. Scarlett. Lorna?

"No." Erik blushes, and removes his arms from around Crystal. "It's… decidedly not." He glances toward Lockjaw with a tempered scowl, then darts his attention back toward the others. Well, Jean is stalking off, which isn't entirely surprising. "Forgive us," he verbally backpedals, before reaching up to scratch at the back of his head, feeling altogether awkward. "Bit of a… transportation accident." He fights off the urge to glare at the canine, before he turns again to look at the other three. "Why are you in uniform?" he asks of them, collectively, before looking around at their surroundings, suspiciously.


Lockjaw has no regrets.

The oversized mutt pants cheerfully, tongue out, as the pair is interrupted. Erik might even imagine that's a smug look he's getting. Crystal clears her throat, taking a step back with Lorna's exclamation. It's not that she's embarrassed, it's just that…Lorna's only a few years younger than she is, and she doesn't like to think about that.

"Lorna, what are all of you doing-" Erik mentions Jean then and she quirks a brow. "This is about that Gabriel boy, isn't it?"


Scarlett interposing herself as the more formidable physical barrier might be cause for laughter after the fact. No one giggles when it's a hulking suit of armour firing laser beams or an undead horror about to vomit a stream of corrosive ectoplasm on them. She leads an interesting life, after all. Laugh later, confess now. A look shot over her shoulder towards her fellow redhead is wrought in the spectra of concern and worry, eclipsed almost immediately given the conversation.

"It's close to zero degrees at five thousand up," she replies. Her black leather jacket is nothing unusual for her, nor the boots. Slap on proper pants instead of leggings, and the modification has her ready for nearly every venue. No Xs visible anywhere on her, thank you very much, unless the upward of seventy formed by braids intersecting down her back. The outfit is infinitely suitable for climbing over a dumpster with next to no difficulty, and walking along the edge, peering down into the alleyway. Should the familiar burnt, bug-begotten box be down there, she intends to carry it back. If not, then a quick zip around the building to the next alley certainly cannot hurt. She does, however, wave in a friendly fashion at the dog. Happy puppy! Lorna will have to fend off her father; Crystal will earn a bit of a wave in passing.


Like Jean thought! Lorna would be all too happy to see the duo, just.. not in that way. Whatever embarrassment aside, Jean was pretty much focused on the mission. So happy puppy, kissing couple, happy kid aside, Jean snaps out of her reverie with both hands now rising to rub a little at her temples. "Well, you don't have to fly five thousand miles into the sky, just.. high enough so that no one can see you. Or is it feet. Whatever.." Whoo! At-ti-tude!

With her scanning the minds and even going deeper than the norm a failed deal, Jean decides to take to the nearest alleyway, but first, she does decide to stop near to the car, looking into the backseat for the briefest of moments, then up towards Crystal and Erik with such a deadpanned stare and a disapproving shake of her head.

Yes. Jean can be disapproving!

"He's not a boy. And yes it is." Is all she says, and with a turn of her heels, she stalks off towards the nearest opening of the building, approaching the green hunk of metal with a hand struck up to cause the top of it to blast open with a loud and angry crash. AT-TI-TUDE!


A fidget and Lorna squirmed beneath her father's gaze. "Uhm Je-, Phoenix, said we should wear these because we're looking for the box her boyfriend came in." A pause and she turned red.

"That sounded wrong. Uhm. But.. Uhh Gabriel. Yeah." She rubbed the bridge of her neck, fidgeting on her toes as she averted her gaze briefly to catch Jean's stalking off, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"Uhm.. She said there might be trouble.. I said I'd help find the box because I thought I might be able to help.. sense it.. if it had metal.. or was made of metal. But yeah. I didn't realize it was in the city or that it was a person sized box or anything, I swear.." She cast a green eyed look up to Erik, biting her lower lip as she folded her hands behind her back.


Erik glances toward the friendly furball, and becomes quietly convinced that this was entirely intentional.

Stink-eye, shared.

With a long look that follows Jean's at-ti-tude-ridden actions, Erik can't help but wince a bit when the top of that opening gets blasted off. He makes a rather nonchalant gesture with his left hand, stilling the movement of the metal so that it doesn't crash against anything, or down into something else. Frozen, in the air, until it flops back to a resting place.

"Well then." He looks toward Crystal. "Since we're here…" Eyebrows rise in a conspiratorial fashion. Yes, let's have the adults look after the children. Rogue is probably lopped into the 'adults' category on that one.

"Quite alright, my dear. This simply caught us both by surprise."


"Well, unless Jean's…boyfriend…was assembled from pieces in multiple boxes, I would hope is was a person-sized box," Crystal points out with a faint smile for Lorna, though Jean gets another of those looks. She leaves Erik to his daughter, raising a hand to Scarlett as she starts toward Jean.

"Jean, I don't suppose you spoke with the professor before you arranged this little outing?" she asks, glancing back over her shoulder toward Lorna. "Or perhaps this was organized by Miss Frost? She didn't seem like the sort to approve of unsupervised expeditions, though."


Call Scarlett with no memories of childhood a youth at your own risk. Moira very nearly risked a dubious end by attempting a critical miscalculation on 'adulthood' education with the bohemian. If she knew, she would thank Erik for that measure. Right now, the difficulty of pouncing on a box is demonstrated by landing in a corner where unmentionable refuse gathered up from scrapping in occupied and unoccupied local buildings was left by whomever. Likely a local consortium out to find someone willing to take a bug-soot smeared box of unknown provenance and materials with a minimum of fuss. Also, the need for a crane. Instead, they have the lithe yoga master with a penchant for tea.

She instead folds forward to get her arms around the narrowing base, preferably searching for a solid handhold. Gabriel's courier service earns a helpful assortment of curses mentally, and she presses her foot flat to the ground. Then, one solid hoist lifts the thing upright, though she teeters under its weight and imbalance, uttering, "For the love of flames and stars, no, you don't."

Is there an impending fling of a coffin from a statuesque temper tantrum? Is she playing Bowling For Mutants? Not at all. A jump to straighten the human-sized box out shifts her death hug, and then Gabriel's battered, beaten, graffiti-smeared coffin comes hopping over a dumpster.


Ignore ignore!

Pay no mind to the redhead on the other side of the street! Whilst the metal top was blown off and caught by Erik, a look was given just in time for her to catch the one from Crystal, and with a quick turn of her head, it was back to business. A gloved hand lifts, as garbage goes flying -everywhere-! There was no wherewithal to where it would land, a can hits the back window of the car, loud enough to jostle the sleeping Gabriel; papers, trash bags, food of all sorts hovering through the air as Jean herself takes a step forward, a hop which puts her suspended into the air to lean forward and look. Nothing there.

Crystal's approach was almost largely ignored, though the woman does have sense enough to at least reply to her as she slowly floats down to the ground.

"I didn't speak to anyone." She says flatly, the papers soon bundling together, straightening out and folded properly, stray string banding them together as they fly right back into the garbage can. Bottles and cans were dumped out onto the ground, all neatly banded together, placed in there neatly as well. Jean.. Jean was -cleaning-. A nice way to at least cool her temper.

"I didn't know I had to ask for permission from either of them to go outside. If I had my ID on me, I'd check my birthdate." She then looks towards Crystal, and grins. It wasn't a happy one either! "Besides, I waited too long for anyone to come with me to do this, so I moved on my own. You two can take Lorna home. Scarlett, Gabriel and I will be alright out here."


It is abrupt as the sound rattles across Gabriel's senses, pulling him rapidly out of the sleep he was in. It was his first car ride, and those things are damn relaxing; not to mention other factors at work. However with the noise being made he pushes off the door and clambers out, rubbing at his eyes momentarily before looking around. "This is familiar." The comment is made to no one in particular, so much as just being noted for general purpose.

Slow, measured steps come forth as he starts to toe his way around, looking about him in the big city, visiting it for the first time that he can recall.


Well those were all very good points that Crystal brought up and Lorna flushed, but didn't answer as Jean the woman on a mission, stormed along with her own answers. Her gaze swung back briefly to her father again and she rubbed the back of her neck, watching him catch metal and return it to its proper place as Jean flung it around.

"Uhh.." A beat, and whatever she was going to say was lost to a flash of irritation as trash smacked into her car.

"HEY! Watch it Jean! That's /my/ car!" She whined, irritation catching in her voice as she shifted her weight back and forth and Gabriel awoke and she made to try to catch up to the red head..

And then Jean talked about sending her /home/.

"What?! No! Jeaaaaan! You can't send me back, just 'cause! Geeze, I said I'd help!" A pout, and Lorna settled her hands on her hips, and her gaze swung back toward her father pleadingly.


There comes a visible grimace as Jean throws the garbage around, and a frown forms on Erik's face. He has a fleeting suspicion that he knows just what her temper is all about, and it's… not something anyone else present would truly understand. Before he can say anything else, though, there's a coffin being slung over a dumpster.


With another gesture, the chains inside of that coffin clatter to whatever side of it is currently facing 'up', and slow its downward plummet. The item ends up landing with less noise than it would have originally, at which point, his eyes narrow considerably. A stalling hand is shot Lorna's way, perhaps a shred of impatience.

"Are you all entirely hell-bent on drawing attention to yourselves?" he asks. "Or is the concept of 'stealth' entirely new to everybody?"


Crystal arches a brow at Jean. "Oh, you're certainly welcome to go outside on your own. But as going out on some sort of costumed mission may very well require others to come out and pull your chestnuts out of the fire, it's considered polite to let them know to be on the lookout. In case someone needs to, oh, I don't know, show up and post bail."

Like she's one to talk. There's at least one police station she probably shouldn't try to post bail for the kids at. Serve them right to get arrested there.

She turns toward Lorna's…well, it's whining, is what it is. "Lorna, please," she sighs. "All of you. This is ridiculous. The costumes are…well-intentioned, but if you were only going to go through trash, they draw more attention than they turn away."


Scarlett was actually holding the coffin box and intending to land it near Lorna's car. When magnetic fields realign and float the thing down, she is still holding onto the container, and Erik inadvertently ends up conveying the one person who regularly disturbs and disregards gravity back towards the ground in some direction near Lorna's car.

"I have it," she offers helpfully, her hands still firmly pressed to the sides. One can hope it lacks dents from how tightly she grips it or the impact of Erik's presence. Her perch at least happens to be one of the few clean spots on the surface, using a particularly loose definition of 'clean.'

That's also why someone wears leather in events like this. Cleaning and disinfecting leather is easier than most materials, short of walking around in a suit of full plate. Not wise to do that whilst in the presence of a ferrokinetic, just saying. "Rather so. Aside from you and the driver, no one else was moving within a two block radius towards us. Though I can go up and take a look. As for this, it's fairly standard fare among the people I run with. Given that's who I got it from." A slip of a smile follows. "Rockers, bikers, the rougher Beatnik ne'er-do-wells. It's practical for my bike."

Motorcyclist? Better believe it.


Once the garbage was settled, Jean reaches out with her TK to snag the top of the garbage dumpster to carefully place it back on top. The quiet click of the opening of the door has her leaning back, her gaze softening just a touch as she sees the sleepy Gabriel exit the car, her own intent to head towards him halted by Lorna's complaining. "SORRY!" Jean practically hollers out, "Go -home- with your parents, Lorna! Apparently I should have asked to go out on a costumed mission because surely I don't have the know how to.. oh, you know, do a little mind-trick to make sure no one sees us or .. something or other.. fucking.." Yes, Jean swore, swore so loudly that the can that was left upon the ground was blasted towards the brick wall and planted there.

She moves away from the now neatly arranged dumpster, stalking towards Gabriel with intent. She wasn't angry at him, she was just angry at the situation, but the path itself was halted as Scarlett comes into view with the coffin/box, her brows lowering into a slight frown as she gives a slight shake of her head. "That thing looks gross now.." She admits, though.. hearing Scarlett has a motorcycle? She was instantly jealous.


Gabriel's eyes narrow a bit as he starts picking up tidbits of conversation taking place and begins recognizing the sources they are coming from. Not having a memory from before a certain point does make individuals stand out in his mind much more significantly; since there is not a large plethora of others to compare to. He opens his mouth to say something but instead slides it shut and bites his lip, looking rather directly at Jean with an intent look, focused.

Then he starts to walk in the direction of where the box that he was found was is located, making his way over slowly with a wary expression on his features.


Some of Lorna's whine breaks off at her father's hand and words and she swallows the next sharp retort on her tongue, at least until Jean shouts back at her, telling her to go home. Her cheeks flare hot, and if anything besides her powers that she inherited from her father… well, it was decidedly not his ability to remain calm and collected.

As the 'coffin' settles beside her car with Rogue along for the ride, Lorna steams. She scowls, and her eyes narrow. "She's not my mother!" Was the only retort made back to Jean immediately and it was clear that there was a lot more bubbling in her. She simmered for a long moment, struggling to calm her perhaps over-reacting anger, but still, it was there.

"You don't want me here to help, then fine!" And promptly, like all teenagers in a tiff do, the green haired girl threw up her hands and stormed off in a huff.


Erik lowers his hands, relieving the coffin of his magnetic influence. "Teamwork?" he offers toward Scarlett. Anything else he might have said, however, is broken by Jean's outburst, and Lorna's response. He looks between the two, then toward Crystal, his expression tired. Maybe they should just go back to Tahiti for another twenty-four hours.

Then again, Lockjaw must have had a reason for sending them here. Erik decides to accept that as fact.

"Lorna -" he tries, but the girl is stalking off, and he's not going to go after her. Not right now. He'll know exactly where she is, considering the unique magnetic personalities each of them display within the spectrum. It's much like a bubble upon the surface tension of still water, refusing to break; they are anomalies within the great planet's magnetic field, refusing to bend entirely to its will.

Erik folds his arms over his chest and waits, patiently, now turning his eyes to observe their surroundings in the manner of a sentry. Lorna's outburst may be more similar to him than she, or anyone, may realize. After all… nobody here knew him when he was her age.


"Excuse me?" Crystal crosses her arms over her chest, giving Jean a long look. "If you think that reaching into people's minds and rearranging them to suit you because you failed to plan ahead or act like anything other than a child is an acceptable solution, then that is the utmost proof that you are clearly out of your mind, Jean Grey. That is rape. That is the most unforgivable violation of a person's very being, do you understand that?"

She doesn't even wait for an answer, turning on her heel with a raised hand as the earth itself rumbles beneath her feet, a glimmer of flame around her eyes. There's more than one temper in the mix. "Erik, I am going back to Westchester. I haven't the patience for this today."


Scarlett naturally tips forward at the new weight leveled upon her, but this is nothing she can't handle with a little effort. She settles the box down and sits on it. In the wake of a family tiff, and Jean's own anger radiating through the street, the peacenik is probably wise to settle into her own nirvana. "Jean, it's completely filthy and disgusting. This will warrant a very long soak in the tub, water as hot as you can stand. Want me to fetch you one of my bath fizzes? One smells like champagne, and the marigold one will do wonders." Let's talk about bath product alchemy to defuse the situation.

She still remains settled upon that box in the off chance someone wants to run away with it. Given they'd be a fool to try. Crystal's statement warrants a very sharp honing of her gaze, and her expression turned to marble from its generally sunny state. Gabriel's movements at the corner of her eye warrant a furtive come here curl of her fingertips, as subtle as she can make it without him overlooking the beckons. Out of blast radius, Gabe. C'mon…


"You forgot your car!" Jean cries out, though Lorna was already gone. It was going to be a decent trek towards Westchester, but she was at least confident that Lorna could make it. Though, there was a silent nod towards Gabriel as he focuses upon her, and his turning towards the box had her near following as well. And yet what stops her? It was Crystal..

A slight turn allows her to positively -glare- towards the woman, her teeth gritted as she throws her hands into the air.

"You know what? I give up!" She was defeated. "I try! I -try-! And at every turn, I get snapped at, shutdown, handled with kid gloves and sent to my room to be babysat! While.. people are just handed off to be wards of the state and I'm getting yelled at for a make-believe scenario and called a fucking rapist. Oh! A MIND rapist, possibly the most vile and.." She just couldn't right now.

"Tell this to Charles, it's where I got my understanding from, and I don't give a damn who needs it suited but who the hell do you think I learned it from?" With Scarlett's words, she couldn't laugh. She could only just shake her head. There was visible defeat in her frame as she draws her arms around herself, turning off to the side to stalk towards the place within the street to take a flopping sit upon the bench near by. A fiery flame? Replaced with a dull glow as she gives a look towards Erik, her head shaking. "And how about you leave with her. No one wanted you two here to begin with. Unless you're going to have another go at me and tell me how crazy I am too.."


It was enough for Gabriel, his eyes do catch Rogue's beckoning but he shakes it off and instead makes his way towards where Jean was at. It had been limited time together but even a fully minded person could see the distress developing. So he does what he think s is right, he proceeds over to the bench alongside Jean and just sits down next to her, quietly, and looks expectantly with an upturned eyebrow remaining in silence.


Crystal's response is most concerning. Beyond that, Erik knows why she is responding in such a way. There are layers to that response far deeper than anyone else could possibly understand, save him. Jean's response only further confirms his suspicions about what has her up in arms. Add into the mix powers that are bordering on unstable (case in point, rumbling footsteps, a can smashed into the wall).

"He did." Erik's answer to Jean comes in the gesturing of his head toward Lockjaw, who's off to the side, not involved in this whole mess. Clearly, the canine wanted them here.

Erik draws in a deep breath, then lets loose of it with a simmering expression. "We did the right thing in Sacramento, Jean." He takes a step toward her. "You aren't the only person who found it difficult," he tells her, and then, his eyes flare. "You were too busy using your telepathy for the right purpose to have noticed what I thought of doing to that place. This life is not easy, and it never will be."

He turns then toward Gabriel, his voice still as intensely calm as ever. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

He turns then, to go in pursuit of Crystal; but as he does, his eyes find Scarlett in the mix. There is a flash of appreciation there, and a slow nod of his head in her direction, before he's moving off in the wake of the Inhuman Princess.


Crystal wheels around. "This is me not treating you with kid gloves, Jean," she snaps. "Because I do not believe you are crazy, and I do not believe that you are incapable of controlling yourself or making ethical decisions. Because I believe that you are better than that. And because I believe that you are better than that, I refuse to tolerate this stomping about. Children throw tantrums, and as you say, you are not a child. You have had enough forced on you in your life to know that forcing memories on people or dragging them out of their minds is wrong."

Her jaw clenches, nostrils flaring. "You can accuse me of not being kind all you like, Jean, but I am saying these things because I have too high an opinion of you and your potential to let it pass." She takes a deep breath, the rumbling stilling as the fire dies from her eyes and fades from between her fingers. "Be the woman I know you can be. Please."


The redheaded bohemian will go to the fiery mountain if the fiery mountain and friend will not come to her. It's all relative in the end. Erik's response warrants the slightest dip of her chin. He might remember the promise sworn to Jean in a laboratory where dread things were done upon innocent victims. Treading over the scarred pavement, Scarlett says, "I think we can agree this may not be the best place to have such a conversation, much less without a pot of tea to accompany it." Her jade gaze levels gently upon Jean, and she offers her gloved hands out in a gesture of solidarity. "Even I can read that you have strong feelings about this, whatever issue it is. Will you come stay the night? Gabriel, you are welcome too. We can make a go of figuring out what to do that's best. Please?"


There was a little comfort there as Gabriel sits next to her, Jean immediately burying her face within her hands, her elbows planted upon her thighs as she slowly begins to rock back and forth. There were really no more words spoken from the girl, just a nervous as all hell bounce of the knees, one which has her hood jostling up and down, emotions and everything else finally rubbed too raw to contend with.

Her eyes lift briefly as Erik speaks, even more so towards Crystal, her head shaking completely as she buries her face within her hands once again. "How can I.." She says muffled.. "..when my heart constantly gets ripped out of my chest.." Hard life is a hard life, some people weren't just built to deal. Or at least given the tools to.

But it was the final offer to leave the place which has her slowly rising, her gaze averted towards the ground as she gestures towards the treasured box with a lift that raises high above the abandoned car. Surely, she was going to walk the wrong way.. but the promise of tea and a conversation silently appealed to her.. but out in the open, a dare in which the box idly trails behind as she walks the streets of Hell's Kitchen, sullen and silent.


Gabe places an arm around Jean and continues to keep it about her even after she rises to start walking towards wherever the destination is. It is only a few steps however before his eyes lift up and he glares, rather hardly, at those he places blame on for Jean's current state. Oh there is no love lost in that look and a pale purple glow emanates around his pupils.


Erik's chest rises and falls with another heavy sigh. He doesn't shy away from Gabe's glare, but he holds no ill will for the fellow, so, he continues in his way in following Crystal. As they go, he looks toward Lockjaw, eyes narrowing just so. "Come on, Lockjaw," he asks for the dog. "Let's go home."


Crystal lets out a heavy breath, but leaves escorting Jean to the others, returning to Lockjaw's side and waiting long enough for Erik to join them. Lockjaw, notably, still looks not the least bit repentant. But at least he actually takes them home this time.

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