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Perhaps it's just recent events, but Charles is being very proactive in planning the exploration of the depths below New York to search for Logan. Normally he delegates this work off to Scott, but because it's Logan, he's taking a more hands-on approach. Currently he's regarding several diagrams laid out on his desk, studying the layouts of the sewers courtesy of some money exchanged with the New York City Clerk's Office. His eyes are narrowed as he he hrms to himself, occasionally scribbling some notes down with a pencil. Not that he'd forget… but it's good to have a reminder just in case something weirder happens.
Because, as we all know, weird things NEVER happen at the School. Ever.
*
Scarlett, she of the auburn hair and many flowers, rests uneasy when the other standard member of Team Redhead is uneasy. It's a bond, a promise sworn when horrific souls harvested mutants for their parts, and the bond will remain all her life, birds and Summers be damned. A cup of tea and a pile of books might be the answer to her immediate woes, though not especially. Keeping calm in such times is a test of all her meditative practices, radiating a certainty of purpose the others might not share or feel. Such are the sacrifices made for the benefit of those present. Besides the one absence for being attacked on the beach and losing her lemonade, she hasn't ventured far.
*
Perhaps this is how team redhead works. If the other one is in clear distress or excited for a very direct reason, the other could come running. Just in case? A mental nudge and prod and an asking of help was issued to the other red one, and to meet in the office of Charles Francis Xavier as soon as possible. It's been four days since she's touched a meal, so a glass of water and a slew of fruits and sandwiches were for the taking. And instead of smelling like sewer, Jean smelled of a mountain fresh soap with regular conditioner, even in her schoolish dress. A pale green ensemble, though barefoot because her office, right next to Charles and the opposite of Emma's, has a -really- comfortable rug.
There was not a knock. Just a push of the door with gifts that remain hidden, the tray carried in to the desk and placed upon it with a flop of the chair in front of said desk to stare at the two within.
"So. I went anyways."
And there was no news of New York under fire!
"I.. think I stumbled upon a problem that's a lot bigger than Logan.." though lest we not forget. "Eat up and we'll talk?"
*
Charles can't help but quirk a faint smile at that, "Well, I wish I could say I was surprised, but here, have my surprised face." He gives Jean a deadpan look, clearly his 'surprised' face as he looks up from the building blueprints, then he grows serious, clearing off the desk for now and setting the diagrams and layouts to the side in favor of food, as… well, Charles hasn't really had anything yet either, "What did you find out, Jean?" He nods absently to Scarlett when she enters, his attention focused on the other redhead.
*
Tea is the name of the game, here, the flavourful inundation so direly required for the pleasure and relaxation of all. She flits in behind the other redhead, the scent of flowers mingling with soap, the orange bite of her perfume forever uplifting while Jean's cleanliness speaks to the horrible humidity of a New York summer. Her smile is a greeting given over the rim of the cup. She might help carry something if required, though otherwise, does not presume upon Miss Grey of the fiery eyes and delightful manners.
"You made the right choice." Her voice is soft but clear, ringing with certainty. "Anything we can safely do to help Logan, we do. I trust your instincts." She will find herself a clear seat, glancing to Xavier, and rendering one of those fair, certain nods.
*
There was a smack of her lips and a scoff that.. while soft, was loud enough for Scarlett to hear. There was even an uproll of here eyes, an attempt to not overshadow the important moment with a bit of her snappish attitude. Someone was hungry, someone didn't sleep well. Someone.. lost a friend.. Hell. They all did.
Her foot reaches out to press against the leg of the chair so that Scarlett could take a seat next to her. There was a quiet thanks to her friend, but now it was time for business. They both needed to know.
"There are some.. people that are underground. I really don't know what to call them, but.. here. Both of you, look into my minds eye while I speak.." There was a pause. "You might want to put your tea and sandwiches down first. I'm a mess up there…"
*
Charles takes a seat, then looks over at Jean, "People… as in a community?" as he sips his tea. He doesn't have a sandwich yet, mainly because it's been long enough he's not exactly that hungry. But now he tilts his head towards Jean, and puts his hand to his temple in his signature manner, opening and expanding the link he has with Jean. Of course, he doesn't have to put his hand up like that, but it's a habit at this point.
*
"Subterranean inhabitants? Do you mean a community living down there? It reminds me of the London residents dwelling in the Tube during the war," Scarlett muses aloud, putting her teacup down and observing what delicious options her friend has thought to fetch up. She will not be long in finding something sumptuous to banish hunger with. "How unusual. I'm not surprised, given I have encountered people dwelling in abandoned subway tunnels and sewers in the city before, though they were either displaced or particularly menacing cultists with no particular love of light, humanity, or me." Her surreal green eyes glint a little too brightly, and she takes a deep, quiet breath. "Jean, I can't look in without touching you. I think the gods would weep if I ever learn how to awaken what my curse took at will." A sagacious revelation for the faintest smile on her lips. "So, Professor, if you would transliterate for me, unless either of you feels it suitable I should learn this as a backup."
Her tone is grave for all that. "I don't want to hurt a friend." Au contraire; her soul draining is far from unpleasant.
*
"Ahhhh.." Jean says to Charles, her head bouncing back and forth. "..sorta?" But once Charles begins to lightly peek, there was a subtle raise of the hair upon the back of her neck as she shoots him a slight look. That was tickly. Stoppit!
Yet, she gets rather excited as she listens to Rogue, her head nodding completely, and looking like a downright fool doing it too! "I don't know how far underground I was, but it -sounds- like that. It sounds -exactly- like that." And yet, Rogue's unwillingness to touch was remembered, and Jean's lessons from Charles as well. "It's alright. You don't have to touch. Just remember to breathe.."
And as soon as Scarlett would take that first inhale.. the world around them changes…
…a young girl named Jojo, who's face seemingly was made of putty and melted, looks afraid..
..the covered rubble doors with a symbol of a man, a man with three orbs for a head and a staff was there..
'That's the mark of the Elder.. this is as far as I go..' The young woman was offered a card.. and the card visibly states, 'Jean Grey'..
..down the steps.. rocks roll..
..into the tunnel.. the feeling that something is there is prominent..
..Where the tunnels walls were.. were lichen that glows.. and yet, the lichen reveals mirrors. Mirros that should not be there..
"Shit." Jean says aloud. "Ignore that."
..various visions of Jean begins to scream and crawl against the windows. The women were on fire.. various states of duress and some that carry a dangerous psychosis bang upon the glass. They were trying to get in.. and yet.. those within Jean's mind were protected from this horrible thing.
'Watch your fingers.' A bird says, one who flies up towards the top of the twenty foot tall door…
..and suddenly? It opens..
*
The visions floating through her skull encounter considerable difficulty. Even willingly receiving a psychic link causes immense effort on the other side of the equation for the psychic in question. Scarlett's mind is a battlefield on a vast scale, riddled by obstacles and precipices for an image or a message to fall through. Even trying to manage the lightest transmission subjects the unfortunate soul to the pandemonium wail of a restless, shrieking wind that never ceases. Her psyche isn't a place to tread lightly or at all.
That's when she quiets the voices as much as she can. Imagine her out of control. That said, Scarlett holds onto her sandwich and refrains from nibbling more than the crust. Her tongue presses against the roof of her mouth as Jean goes descending down into the subterranean world and sinks along its chambers. Her fascination with the lichen probably owes nothing to any overarching love of glowing things, not at all. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as the incarnations of Jean suffer for the mirrors. They dance and howl and wail. Visions within visions. Her shoulders tighten and her back jerks straight as an instinctive reaction, the uncoiling shades dancing over her mind's eye producing a shudder. "Who would do that to you? Who is inflicting this? The same torturer as Logan…?"
Not the best of questions but she's proud to even have words to think. It's all fire and brimstone baby; she's got her brand new pistol, maybe…
*
To say Charles looks troubled by the images is an understatement, but for now he waits, letting Jean finish relaying all the information before saying anything. He glances over at Jean, not saying anything just yet as he absorbs all the information from the link first.
*
The glass begins to crack as a woman bangs upon it..
..her eyes aflame..
..her teeth jagged rows of ichor and blackness as she hollers with intent into the window..
"No one is doing that to me. That's me." If.. that ever made sense at all. "Ignore it."
..it seems that Jean had a fondness for the lichen as well, she touched it, rubbed the substance against her fingers.. sniffed it.. and moved on..
..the doors open to a woman.. who very much could have been considered genderless. Her eyes were large, skin pale and pallid green, her fingers long with an extra set of knuckles to compensate. Her feet.. three toes, and sharp talons. And yet.. one could feel calm. Serenity..
..save for the large trilobyte.. a horrific flash..
..'This is the lair of The Elder..'
'He fights the Unbelievers..'
..visions of those who are hive-minded linger.. empty.. quiet.. undisturbed..
'He will make you his bride..'
'You should leave.. he will not let you if he finds you..'
'Where is Logan?! Someone took him, just tell me where he is!' Jean pleads..
'He's not here! We don't have him.. maybe the Unbelievers! He's coming!'
*
Never underestimate the power of a girl who would fly to Whale Bay in Australia just to see horseshoe crabs and claim she did it. Her expression at the flaming figures changes when the trilobyte appears. Those green eyes spark and Scarlett puts her fingers to her mouth. A trilobyte! Archaic things do tend to intrigue her; witness her warm reaction to the Asgardians and vanishing into their library for several days straight with minimal sleep. The Elder who fights the Unbelievers, which probably constitute them. Silent psychic gifts, and things she cannot identify. Her head tilts slightly and she measures up possibilities. Maybe one can hear the soft, dark voice whispering, "What if the guardian were turned against the guard?"
*
Charles frowns a bit, concentrating on everything that Jean relays. Though his expression lightens a bit at seeing a trilobyte, almost but not quite smiling as he then says, "Possibly. It seems that these Unbelievers are the ones responsible for taking Logan, based on what you uncovered. Though this Elder also concerns me. I'm not sure that the enemy of my enemy is a friend, in this case. But it's still more information than we had."
*
Jean nods at this, and carefully begins to withdraw. It was soft, nothing jarring, even though the screaming 'Jean's' continue to bang and pound away..
Finally, she opens her eyes, and sighs. "The woman you saw was Voon. I think she's the one who controls the trilobyte, it's connected to her feelings. In fact, the rest of the beings down there were connected to her.. but she said she was removed from them." Confusing. "She thinks the Elder will take her for a bride, but if she fails to conceive, she'll be murdered."
She frowns a touch, then shrugs her shoulders at Rogue. "I don't know.." And.. she truly didn't. She didn't want to be trapped down there with the rest. But Charles had a point, maybe the Unbelievers have them. And the Elder was also a great concern.
"I want to go get her. Voon. And Urgo. The trilobyte." Thanks Rogue, for putting that in your brain, else Jean wouldn't know!
*
"Why does the Elder want progeny? And how does Logan fit into it? The fact Logan was taken by the Unbelievers almost implies they're planning to unleash him and change the social order, but this is a guess in the dark." Scarlett shakes her head slightly, putting random pieces together. "The Elder and the Unbelievers, by the names, imply enmity. How Logan fits into it — how he even found them — is another matter altogether. I feel halfway blind, though we aren't at a loss for people to ask. Voon the would-be bride may give better clarity if she does not feel her life is in danger from an arranged wedding she may not wish."
*
Charles nods in agreement, "This is a good start, but we'll need more information. But now we definitely have a place to go down there." He smiles over at Jean, "That was a horrible risk you took down there, but it worked. Thank you." And he does mean it with sincerity as he looks over at Team Redhead.
*
"We do. This personifies something awful." Scarlett sighs and bites into that sandwich. Making her sick takes a fair bit of work, and it won't be disrupted by the demanding cries of her digestive system for something to nourish it with. She chews thoughtfully and considers Charles, her eyes aflame with the low burn of intellectual gears grinding.
*
Jean couldn't agree more, it wasn't that she was at a loss of what to do, which is fairly easy. It was the how. And the why's behind it. "I planned on returning that way in a day or two, maybe around the same time. I don't know. But what I do know is the way that I went caved in, so we'll have to find another route."
It was almost sad, how the other beings were of a hive mind.. perhaps Charles could set them free? Her mind was wandering as she reaches for the glass, taking a sip of the water with a lean back to contemplate..
*
Charles picks up the thought from Jean, and nods, "I can definitely try… and I'll make sure to bring some others with me. After all, I don't think Emma would approve of this Elder making me one of his brides." He smiles wryly, "But if these people are being enslaved against their will… it's a moral responsibility to free them from that bondage."
*
"Do you know where the route was, relative to a map? It may be a difficult ask, but between Charles and I, we might be able to lay down the necessary cartography." Licking her lips, Scarlett puts down the remaining half of her sandwich. "It would make for a better approach, seeing whom might be potentially atop their home and other ingress and egress points. I suppose there's always another option. If you can detect where they are, you can use that as a basis for a map." Cerebro, baby, she's being polite about it. "I would say we need to approach them with care, not knowing their customs or reasons. They might literally be driven underground for a reason, whether persecution or fear, and approaching them with good intentions is bound to get us somewhere."
*
There was a snickered laugh as Jean puts down the glass of water, the only laugh she'd allow herself as she draws in a breath. "That's what I thought.." Jean openly confessed. "..But this is a religion. A cult. This is their way of life. Who are we to say that.." She explains, holding her palm flat, the other chopping against it like an axe. "This is wrong. This is how you practice your faith. This way is right." With each sentence, her hand lightly smacks against her open palm to drive the point home.
(Thankfully, the year 2000 is decades away.)
"Um.. I'm not good at reading maps." Jean admits to Scarlett. "I can show you where I entered, but I think.. maybe.. hopefully I can find them again. I know what their minds feel like now. You really can't forget something like that if you felt it.." But.. being driven underground.. this causes Jean to think.
"Guys? What if we're the Unbelievers?"
*
The Professor hrms, "Well, I don't know about that, but it might be something more specific. Perhaps even mutants living on the surface." He looks thoughtful, leaning back a bit in his chair, "Clearly we need to go down there and get more answers, since it seems like the number of questions have increased considerably. But we'll find out what's going on… it could even be this Elder is who has Logan captive, and was keeping it a secret from his followers." He frowns a touch, "In any case, the wards they have seem to work to a degree against Cerebro, and since it isn't exactly portable, I'm going to have to go down there."
*
"We very well could be." Halt as the dozen divinities and more in Scarlett's head probably have words to say about that, a song of chaotic quarrels. Her fingertips tease against her brow as she silences the skull rattling harmonics, the slow, deep cycle of breathing closer to Buddha than any of the more turbulent figures rolling around in there.
"You have a point, Jean. We are upending their world, potentially, so we walk lightly. On the other hand, that gives absolutely no permission to try and perform trepanning on another living person and putting Logan through that much suffering. And I really would rather not have to go down that route." Her hands reflexively open and close. Maybe imagining claws. Maybe uneasy.
*