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Monday Morning? Training. Then classes and other things that Administrators do. Tuesday morning? Order fulfillment. Children were in need of hats, coats, gloves. There were a mass amounts of shovels to purchase due to the snow. The fence upon the side yard needs repairing; metal benders. They're.. an interesting bunch. Then there's the matter of food. Delivery day was always Saturday. The schools get Saturdays especially if they're big enough, and have a large enough housing.
Plus, Jean had to account for dietary restrictions. Some of the mutants.. sadly enough.. couldn't handle eggs. Or have mouths in the front..
So as she pours over the latest order sheets, she quirks her lip and glances up towards the window, her brows lowering, feet pressed to the ground with a slight shove of them to drag the chair back so that she could stand. And it was to the window she goes, looking out.. or.. looking at something out there looking in.
Scarlett does organization terribly well, but with her courses finally at an end, final exams written, and the usual tumble of philanthropic ventures she pursues at this time of the year, no, she is not helping with fencing or ordering eggs. Putting together a major to do quietly under the aegis of the Wayne Foundation was quite enough thank you very much. Other things require her explicit attention, though, notably assuring herself that Jean eats. Fresh tea and lavender honey scones baked by her own hand sit on the desk out of the way of a flailing arm. Never mind the rosemarie shortbread, mouthwatering and delicious, created in a birdcage of bent little chocolate covered sticks, to further tempt the other member of Team Redhead to eat. Should those prove insufficient, well…
The children out stand Jean's window are singing carols. They are probably not the only thing out there, but the delightful rendition for the O Holy Night and Silent Class — rather than Silent Night — are charmingly terrible. What's next, Come Rest Ye Merry Mutantkind? Yes, because the writer is busy laughing into her gloved hands at the doorway inside to Jean's office.
|ROLL| Maximus +rolls 1d20 for: 7
Having observed Jean Grey at the 'negotiation' meet and greet with the scary, blue, Kree, Ronan,and also been told by Kaleb that they really ought to meet, that's what he's here to do. Yes, yes, he's not supposed to be here, but that's what they've said the last few times and he just…keeps coming to visit his sister anyway. Unless one counts the dramatics of a teenaged girl, he's really never caused any problems, but he does have a unique signature when he arrives on campus. BUZZ BUZZ, he pushes the gate buzzer far too many times than is necessary. "Yessss, I have a delivery of information for Miss Grey. Who am I? Tra-la-la…I am Maximus Boltagon, of course! Trust me…I'm on the list." The driver for his car is just staring straight ahead, pretending to listen to none of this whatsoever. Just drive the car. Just drive the car.
The food was paid no nevermind. Cue the girl who hasn't eaten in close to two and a half days. Occasionally she would stare towards it, sip the tea, but it was the window of which she stared out of, frowning. They were throwing snowballs at each other, and there were two little kids in the fray. One gets pelted with a ball and falls backwards, but rises screaming with laughter! Phew!
The caroling was equally terrible, but there was a smile upon her face anyways, and a shrug of her shoulder that has her turn and moving back to her seat. "Not funny." She states towards Scarlett.. then frowns.. one finger upright. "Perimeter." Cause, who the hell didn't hear that bell? "That's odd."
Though, one of the kids were already on the jump. The teenager flies towards the door, pressing the button to allow the gate to open, as he goes back to sweeping the floor. People are coming and going at all times, so it was nothing new. Plus, he did hear Jean Grey over the intercom!
Scarlett's legendary forgetfulness when delving into a project being no different from Jean will be cause to take up the need for sustenance, even if that means different things to bait her with. Simply not at the moment. "You're lucky we have Bobby out there to make snowballs. Nowhere else in the area has snow, except for a hockey arena. Does that count, when the ice comes off the rink?" She hums slightly and rubs her upper arm with her hand, an effortless equation. After knitting who knows how many stockings, piecing felt and finishing off the various gifts intended for children dumped off by their parents, she might be more than a little sore.
"Of course, it's funny. They want to see you smile. Charles terrifies half of them, whereas you do not," she cheerfully answers, even as she swings into glorious motion with the bzzt summons of a bell. With any luck, it will be NORAD asking if someone can guide an F-4 safely to the children in Hanoi with their godless parents and drop off a few packages. Not the burning chemical kind.
"This ought to be interesting. Give me a minute?" Whatever for? Staring out the window, of course, a thousand mile stare.
Maximus glides on through and the hired vehicle pulls up to the mansion. The driver gets out and comes to open the door for Maximus, who slips out gracefully and smiles. Awwww, children! He's wearing a classy suit, /nice/ gloves, and a mischievious look in his eyes. "So, go right in? Don't mind if I do then…" He whistles tunelessly and approaches the door to just fling it open with a hearty clasp and push. "Maximus to see Jean grey!"
Kaleb actually did GO to his classes. He wasn't the Kellan stunt double today. Echo was hurried and wish he could move others just…away? He could not. Why his hair was wet and hanging in his face he didn't get into but he was evidently worried about being late and mayhem getting out of sorts. So much work left to do before the holidays, and ya know, protecting the world from teh Skrull was right below figuring out what to get his mother that would not disappoint her. "Hey, Max." Tired, but relieved that he made it. "C'mon in. It's… fine." The implied GO BACK TO WHAT YOU WERE DOING was implied with a gentle shove of suggestion behind the words as he turned to lead the Inhuman to where thi was allegedly supposed to be happening. "Wrong bulding than I intended, but I suppose this works and she'll just be aware your'e here." He didn't doubt Jean in taht for a moment.
"I think he's working on that now." Jean returned to her desk, but she did not sit, she was clearly distracted. Though she does manage to offer a warm smile at the compliment, her face drops once again as she draws in a breath, her hand fixing her messy bun atop of her head, glasses soon pinched by the nose and removed, tossed onto the table haphazardly as she makes her way towards the door.
There was a pause again, her eyes aglow faintly as.. well. Can we say hivemind?
For Jean herself begins to mentally travel, invading the minds of the children running through the halls. Mind bouncing from one child to the next until the front foyer is breached. Where one could easily say to inform the genesis mind of the guest, the child just wordlessly motions Maximus towards the hallway, backing off once Kaleb is seen. With a slight inhale, she shakes her mind free of the children, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly as she turns to begin to arrange the chairs.
"Maximus is here." Perhaps that's all that's needed.
The response from Scarlett is a tidy nod, her gaze still floating among the children playing in the grass outside, kicking up tufts of preternaturally provided snow. She hardly questions their antics or the source, the heavy-lidded weight of her phosphorus green eyes completely turned inwards. Jean throws herself into an external hivemind; she simply delves into the crystalline matrix jailing every last soul ever to brush against that Venusian trap shaped by the void to tempt and torment. The outward hints are entirely absent.
Some moments later, she moves away from the window to help Jean arrange the seats in kind. Papers are not disturbed; one does not disturb Ms. Grey's order without imperiling themselves. Another cup of tea poured and set out follows, and she squares the angles so no chairs are out of line.
Maximus lifts his hand when he spots Kaleb and joins him in walking towards the office. He tilts his head, perking, perhaps making sure he has his walls up around here. "I am here, I am here. I could not wait. I was /bored/." He chuckles faintly and draws in a deep breath. He presses the gloved hand to the side of Kaleb's face and then drops it down. "Any last words of sparkling warning before we go in there?" He shrugs off his coat and folds it over one arm, not trusting it to small children.
Kaleb cracked a smile in spite of his usually 'charming' flinty demeanor, "Eh if you have questions ask. I won't leave you in there alone and… really we do appreciate your help." Solidarity, he could offer him that. These things could be stressful and he wasn't on great footing with everyone. It could be it's own scary. His hand lifted to Max's shoulder with a squeeze before it dropped and he just let Jean know they were there as a formality before entering and jsut expected a 'stand there' were it not okay so Echo just opened the door. So many assumptions. Ms. Jean Grey, Maximus Boltagon. You know Scarlett, so there we go." Introductions made simple.
A lean back upon the front of her desk as Jean presents herself as such; ever cool and calm, not a diplomat but someone in need of help and quite possibly more information than whats gathered. There have been plans to beat the feet.. but.. where to start? With him, is what she was told.
As Scarlett fixes the chairs, Jean watches her carefully with a little squint eye and a slight nod, the door opening to reveal Kaleb and Maximus, a smile put upon her face that was genuinely warm and not forced. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Boltagon. I heard a lot about you." Hand strikes out to gesture towards the seats. "Please. Have a seat. Tea?"
The warm smile is mirrored in kind from Scarlett, albeit with a modicum more restraint than Jean. Guest, after all, greeting other guests. A delicate sweep of her hand forfeits the choice of chairs to them as she takes the one to Jean's right side, sliding in with an easy grace demonstrated unconsciously. One ankle crossed over the other, she presents a respectable appearance devoid of discomfort. Fingers curl lightly and she brushes off her braids from her shoulder. Tea will follow suit.
Maximus enters the room and spreads his hand. "Yessss, we have not /met/, but…I have watched you." That sounds creepy. He smiles overbroadly. "Of course I know you though through what Kaleb has said about you. I'm sure its alllll true. You did look magnificent, by the way, standing up for all your people before the Kree. I was most impressed." Then his eyes turn to Rogue and he arches a brow. "Still silent, I see? Do they know what you're up to with my brother? Most dangerous woman around this place, in my opinion. She could destroy the whole school with an ill-placed grunt. And yet…well, I find it /exciting/. Its good to see you. Everywhere woman." He reaches out to brush Kaleb's hand.
Kaleb stood back though looked interested suddenly at the arrival of hot tea. Scarlett, hostess points to you, lady. While his eyes wandered to that all of the sound found its way back to him enough for the sonic to lift a finger and add addendum, "All… people technically. Earth." Jean technically just stood up for Earth (+New Jersey). His hand turned over at the gesture to catch it, but deflected the conversation back towards Jean's reason fo wanting the meeting, "Well I think there are enough hens in the world that all our personal lives might keep them busy indefiniately. What we need to do though is pool what we know about the Skrulls." He looked from Max to Rogue and back, "Jean, where we want to start?"
It was a quiet communication. Jean knows what lingers in the mind of Scarlett but she does not want to look further nor touch. Only surface thoughts from this one, the rest remains to be seen. Quiet as she was, even with Maximus' titlating language, Jean continues that smile which soon drops just a touch as she lets out a huff to turn, round the desk, and settle in her chair with a flop.
"-All- people of Earth." Jean clarifies towards Kaleb. All of them. "Even your kind." She states towards Maximus with a gesture of her hand. "Not that I am the end all and be all of us, but if no one was going to speak up, who would?" Though, matter at hand. Matter at hand.
"I'd like to start from the beginning. What are they and where they come from. Then, the relationship between the Kree and the Skrulls. And.. the ire that it seems that the Kree themselves invoke in your own kind, Mr. Boltagon." Jean nods her head faintly. "You see, I even offered my neck out towards the Kree. One lifts a hand towards them while we're in union of peace, then they lift that hand towards me as well." Imagine that, tiny woman as a lone defender. It -can- be done. "So I suppose you can say, now.. I guess that I stand up for the galaxy as a whole.."
Cosmic Princess, here we come.
Tea quietens the bohemienne right down, especially the moment Scarlett brings the brittle ceramic rim to her lips. How to speak around the fragrant black brew rushing over her tongue? Of course, there is no way to do so without violating every basic principle of hospitality and politeness. Etiquette's demands cannot be bend for casual regard. She flashes one of those rare impish smiles in occlusion, visible only for those willing to bend a look 'round Jean to herself. After a wholesome mouthful of the splendid blend presented in an attractive pot, her cup returns to its saucer.
More important that she play witness, reaching for a nearby pad of paper and pen. Notetaking on behalf of Cosmic Princess Redhead, to match her Starry Princess Redhead, should be no shock. Scarlett is, if nothing else, a remarkably competent skald and historian.
Maximus coughs a few times when Jean explains. Kaleb can tell /right away/ when he's going to get ramped up, and he's definitely going to get ramped up. He lifts a hand and smiles so broadly that it looks like it should injure his face, but the features just wrinkle, until he abruptly stops both laughing and smiling. "The entire /galaxy/. Ohhhhh my…" Max waves his hand in the air. "I had no idea what to expect from a human that won the genetic lottery, but this is quite a fascinating pile of hubris. And believe me, I would know." Maximus cocks his head. "You want to know about the Skrulls? Fine. But, you must come out of the cosmic clouds. Maybe someone told you what a special princess you were growing up, but there's an actual royal in this room." He sweeps his hand dramatically to gesture to himself. Then he holds up his other hand and twitches the first finger back and forth. "Ah Ah…don't peek, don't peek, you'll only see a dancing, naked hippo." And then he vocalizes with 'boops' a melody that sounds vaguely circus-like.
Kaleb took a deep breath. Heeeeere we go. And this was precicely why he told Max to schedule this between his classes. His hand closed around the Royal's hand that was not busy gesticulating grandiosly. There was a squeeze of the hand to get Max's attention re-centered, or make an attempt to try. Contention pained him but this wasn't about his rusted sensibilities. "Yes. You are, Maximus, and we know and appreciate you being here. We have a common enemy out to threaten all our stuff." People, planet, free will… *sigh* even Jersey. Fiiine. That was still… well it was theirs too. "Sooooo- Oh thanks Scarlett." Tea, good distraction. "So Skrulls. History of? Where's their story begin, Max?" Get him on a topic he can have reign to expound on that wasn't a clash of egos? Yeah better for the whole room. There we go. Weren't tehy all a product of their environment though. His eyes drift back to Jean in support for what she was trying to learn today.
|ROLL| Jean Grey +rolls 1d25 for: 22
Pad of paper and pen wasn't too hard to find. Especially upon the littered desk of Jean, pulled from a few stack of papers and a basic pen offered up towards her friend in earnst. There was a silent nod there, and soon, a lean back within the chair. The food upon the desk itself was growing cold, but its smell does still penetrate the room and it remained as lovely as when it was freshly brought. Though, elbows lift and plant upon the armrest, fingers lift and steeple. Jean showed her hand.
Though was further telling were the quiet nuances, the way she steepled her fingers and allowed her shoulders taut. For what no one else sees is that 'Other Her', that effigy of her that presses her fingers against the shoulders to massage and knot tendons. Cinderella Girl in one corner, Mad Max in the other. Round one!
'FIGHT!' -SHE- cackles. But Jean does not.
There was only a quiet narrowing of eyes, like a squiint, and then relax. The pressure upon the self was evident but lips form into a thin line behind her fingers as she drops her hands down to her lap. Right when her lips part, Kaleb thankfully takes the reigns and eases up on that tension, one hand remaining lifted as she rests her chin upon her knuckles, her thumb idly worrying along her jawline as she remains set to listen.
There aren't many people who can knock on the door before a telepath has sensed them, but Able is occasionally on the list. His inorganic brain isn't easy to spot in a proverbial crowd, no matter how small. As such, he makes an attempt to reach out to Jean, but he still raps with his knuckles. Knock-knock.
The two are friends. On top of that, the doctor has become progressively more bold as he's settled into the mansion. After a few days away on personal business, he doesn't hesitate to let himself in. Immediately, he arches an eyebrow. "I thought I heard voices. Quite the little party we're having. Mind if I join you?"
Despite being as well-dressed as ever in a slate grey suit, he appears a bit the worse for wear. There's a cut across one cheekbone and another near his hairline, both of which have been closed with tiny, neat stitches. His shirt and tie can't conceal a ring of bruises around his neck, either. There are a few other minor contusions and abrasions, but nothing to write home about.
The scrape of the ink-filled nib across the flat ruled page has its own allegro tempo, occasional deviations allowed to strike crossbars through Ts and dots applied in stippled percussion. Scarlett hears a music very different from the conversation, patterns in the intonation of Maximus' unusual accent and Jean's wholly New York response. What's not to appreciate in the clink of china and the salvos of diplomatic regimens?
Nuance indeed; look exceptionally close and the poker face closed around her features is damn near smooth as a dyson sphere, blocking out anything save dutiful, discreet recording. Her thumb runs along the pen. Rosemarie and buttery cookies add to the ambiance, the chocolate cage enfolding those gifts brought earlier to tempt Jean's appetite — and theirs, now — haven't melted away. Even for New Jersey. Old Jersey, the island, did nothing to earn Skrull bothering them except have the coolest titles in the United Kingdom.
Maximus looks over to Kaleb when the man turns the subject's focus. Then to Jean as she reacts to it as she does, and all those…odd sensations in the woman's aura that make him grin a little. Then Able is dancing into the room, all beat up and well dressed and its enough distraction to pull him from the path he was delving down. He wets his lips and pulls his hand away from Kaleb and lifts it to put on the man's shoulder in return, assurance, perhaps, "Introductions? After all, this is sensitive information. And…I think its fair to say that as an /ally/, that there should be no more of the nonsense of /banning/ me from the campus. I have /relations/ here." He moves to cross around behind Kaleb, eyeing the newcomer with a slide of his steel gaze.
Kaleb wasn't one to go back down into the sinkhole of egos and ceremony when they had issues to get to. There was that faint shift in his spine as all the muscles in his back tightened preparing to shut down the audible part of the room to stay any words going off rails though really with telepaths? What was the point. He felt impudent and he hated it. Max's hand moved to his shoulder and breathing resumed, and the request for knowledge was met with an attempt to smooth out the rough edges. Really that he was attempting to do this was…unlikly but here we were.
"Dr. Able, Maximus Boltagon, the aforementioned source for Skrull knowledge come to lend us what we can to deal with our… situation." Our: all of Earth 'our' really. Helooked from max to Jean and back. He had nothing on school access and it wasn't his place to say. Still teh hand on Echo's shoulder assured him reason wasn't absent and that was a comfort. Kale's brow furrowed to Able and observed, "Busy day I take it. Pull up a chair. Just keeps us from repeating ourselves later in teh debrief." DId he jsut invite him into Jean's meeting? Seems so!
One could say that there was a tiny shift in the atmosphere. It wasn't a scan of the minds nearby or nearly the flame of awareness within them, but just a feeling of impending 'doom' that lingers just by the surface. The *knock-knock* obviously wasn't answered, and as the good Doctor entered, Jean remained seated.
Invisible fingers still massaged at those shoulders, then lightly pat-pat-patted before bearing down. The weight of it all caused brows to furrow as if she were angry, then relax once they let up and vanished all together. Annoying. And quite rude of Her.
It was natural that Jean didn't mind at all; Dr. Able was there when she made the decree of peace and an offering of arms. Even an offer to fly upon the ships to the stars for a different, and quite possibly better scenery, but that was neither here nor there. Kaleb, the ever faithful host, made the introductions, and soon that gaze that she carried for those long moments let up. An inhale, exhale, then a smile as fingers join upon the desk, laced and placed.
"Back to the story, if there ever was one. I'm unsure if it's reluctance to tell the histories of your people and the Kree, which.. I'll respect." Hand goes up, she wasn't going to let up. "But the Skrull is really why we're here, agreed? You say we allies? Prove it." A nod of her head is given, she wasn't testing the waters, she waded through it. But.. Mr. Boltagon, I am not so sure that an ally such as yourself warrants an allowance to the school. There is just simply too much at stake here, as is possibly the rest of the world. But, I suppose my genetic lottery allows me to cherry pick and say that I wish to protect my own as well, especially in the age of innocence."
She smiled quickly, then finally reaches forward for an empty cup, drawing the saucer forth as she reaches out for the tea.. "I mean, what if one of the students were to get too curious about your nature and they find themselves insulting a royal? For.. in this house there really are no royals here, relations or no." Tea poured, words spoken with sincerity, a sad smile lifting to meet the Mad Max's eyes. "But!" Her voice raises. "It'll be taken into advisement, til then, I'm sorry. The banning must stay." Teapot carefully put upon the desk as she picks up the cup with pinches of her fingers, lips pursed, and cooled as soup-coolers do. Then a little jerk which causes it to spill, a quiet guffaw, and a quick grabbing of paper to smear down the wetness within her shirt.
"So. Skrulls." At least they could start there.
Able's eyebrow inches higher and a small, amused smile tugs at one corner of his mouth as he looks Maximus over. "Yes, I'm the resident physician here. Unless you see something you like, I'll ask you not to stare."
He flicks an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder and smiles a bit wider, this time at the rest of the room. "Busy week, in fact. Family matter. In any case, I'm inclined to agree with Jean on all counts. The students often need to be protected, whether it's from themselves or from others. And then there's the Skrull. Skrulls?" A curious glance is shot from Rogue to Jean, then back again. He seems a bit bemused as he takes a chair next to the former and snags a biscuit from under the nose of the latter. "Now that we've put the rest of our business to bed, what do we plan to do about them?"
Rogue's not the talkative sort when taking notes, especially as the potential bridge-builder between disparate interests. Attempting to goad her certainly fails to rouse much of a reaction. Tea, on the other hand, she pours with a steady hand and a ready eye. Liquid spills out of the thin spout of the pot to level off her cup, and once more she returns to the task of penmanship to capture Jean's thoughts and Maximus' responses, Kaleb's words and Able's non-sequiturs for perpetuity. At least as long as that lasts in this particular office, all things considered. A certain fond smile greets Able; they are no strangers, then.
"Recognized as a threat? /Fine/." Maximus' eyes flash briefly. "There is no speaking about the Skrull Empire without speaking about the /Kree/, which, as you may have observed, are slightly more civil than the other. I do say slightly in that you are in every way, outmatched by either of them on the surface." He slides his fingers along Kaleb's back and then slides them off as he comes around the other side of the man, into the open again, and stares at Able for just long enough to be uncomfortable before he looks to Jean and takes a step nearer to her. "I say, on the surface, because its not impossible to get things to go Our way, and stop a massive /war/ from breaking out on this planet that has nothing to do with /us/. But lets start with a little humility." He lifts a finger, then cocks his head, curls swaying. "Its good for the soul, so I hear. The Kree and the Skrull are both alien civilizations…empires that span beyond the borders of one, mere planet to unfold like the petals of a distorted flower across the galaxy. Their reach has long been beyond this planet and in fact, we were so pathetic as to be overlooked for millions of years, until finally we were of /some use/ to the Kree." Maximus then grows to seem very sharp, his eyes, the pointed way he smiles, and even his tone changes so his words come out like a hiss, "Genetics is sort of their /thing/. Parents. If you will."
Max's manner alters back to only the /normal/ amount of insanity and he paces past Jean, towards Rogue, "The Skrull have a different sort of sophistication. Its less technical. Their survival is their own bodies. Their cells may alter them to appear /exactly/ the same as you, or I, or anyone else. They capture their target, they explore their target's mind, and manners, they learn, they study, and they replace. It is conquering by becoming. And suddenly, this is a world worth having, worth living on, worth /influencing/." He pauses in front of Rogue and draws in a deep breath, "And what better way to ensure we side with them than to pick a fight with their own enemy…the Kree? This fight has nothing to do with us. And now we are in the middle of it, because the Skrulls are /here/, and they are the ones reaching out, trying to create an enemy of the Kree. You can find them. Their minds hate the blue ones…they will want /war/. They will want /fear/. And they will be, like the journalist we captured, those in positions able to exploit it." By the time he passes Able, he will have prowled in a full circle.
Kaleb for once didn't fuss when fingers fell on him. Today he was a touchstone perhaps, or it was to assuage Echo's slowly growing anxiety over the stressors in teh room. His expression remained as matter of fact as ever but evolved into one of brazen curiosity. Millers were curious creatures by nature and he didn't pretend to be otherwise. "That's… clever of them." He had to admire the inginuity. "So at least the Kree are… what? GIving us a heads up to actually prevent war because they're not interested in collateral damage? What stops the Kree from jsut, say , wiping us out like one would reasonably burn a house down to make sure the spider is gone?" The neemy of their enemy was not necessarily their friend after all.
Family matters, Jean at least has to go back and visit her own before things go mad. Christmas was coming, and there were presents to buy! But, it was a discussion for later, the Dr. was able to patch himself up nicely, so the incessant grilling would get pass for now. "Glad to see you pleased." Jean remarks, and leaves it at that.
Though, as Maximus gets to the meat of the matter; Jean's attention was kept like an apt pupil. She didn't fidget or fuss with her shirt, lift her tea to sip, but nearer to the end of the explanation, she reaches for a cookie to finally take a tiny bite. A tiny bite in thought.
There were key words there she was focused on, though it was slightly hard to read between the lines, hard to tell when the point of insanity kicks in and drawing back the need to attempt to study. To fix. Though, a quick thought to have a therapy session in the danger room -did- seem like the safest best.
More on that later!
To Kaleb, she shrugs her shoulders. "No one really wants to go to war. Unless you're one of -them-." Though, them could be subjective. "And yet, all it takes is a few simpletons to press that red but—.." She pauses again, then shakes her head. "Though, I'd like to be on the side of being optimistic with them seeing a quite possible potential within us. Though, the sort of potential could be subject.." She was thinking now. Thinking of Namor and the pearl he had given her, long.. long lost. "Foreign entities often come to us and we them in efforts to learn. Often times we all find what's not right with the current body we live in and try to change. Mayhap its the same with the Kree. Why destroy something so young and in it's infancy, -with- the potential to be great, without attempting to sway and indoctrinate it first?"
But, the conversation rewinds just a touch in Jean's mind, her head nodding. "So. Is he still there?" She asks, her brows lifting. "The journalist Skrull. Do you still have him? Her?"
Though a smile from Able is often haughty, mocking, or sarcastic, Rogue is on the short list of people who's likely to receive a genuine one. He gives her a minute nod as well.
A lazy glance is all he spares for Maximus. He's seen real insanity and this doesn't hold a candle to it. As such, he's quick to return his attention to the school's residents. "The Kree are warriors. Hard, but honorable. There's no honor in conquering an opponent you already know you can beat. Especially if they're not an enemy. If they wanted to subvert us, they would've given us just enough to have us begging for more. Some of that technology everyone was desperate for at the UN meeting, perhaps."
He pauses for another biscuit, then dabs his lips with a napkin. "As far as the Skrull journalist goes, if we have it, give me a quiet room and a few hours. I imagine we could learn quite a bit."
"The Skrull prisoner is gone. No body. A failsafe maybe. The Kree want our help in getting the Skrulls off this planet because they'd rather have the Earth be unspoiled. They know it has treasures that they are certain to outwardly dismiss. For now, aside from a very select amount of my people, most of which you are no where near, those who are thinking overly of the ancient city of Penglai, the Kree, or," Maximus looks at Able and cuts off as he catches the look from the man. "Do you have some sort of issue with me? Somehow I am not living up to your grand expectation of help? There's a strange…dismissiveness about you." Steel eyes rake up and down the man, then he looks to Jean, "A /calm/ presence, a logical…almost lawyer-like presence is necessary with the Kree. But the Skrull…they yell and flail and have fears and passions. You should be able to find them. Or, find the absense of such things, you will know something is preventing you, and that's a target all the same."
Kaleb had grown emotionally blunted to moods and shifts with many big personalities in one room. He usually called these family gatherings. Still it was almost odd for him to by the one to push the 'empathic middle' of a conversation. Still, the threat of damage to the world he'd grown to l-…not… entirely despise (baby steps) was one he wanted to save. Sure he hated the way it was to it's molten gooey core but he wanted to make it better, not destroyed. Echo sighed and offered with words ambient aorund him in suggestion, "Maximus… thank you." Sometimes a little in courtesy went a long way. Still his mind was a pool of mathematical equasion trying to factor… how to find… anything with that information. He was no telepath. "I wish we had something that could translate that out to tone like an audible heat signature. Shame that's not a thing… yet."
There was a nod to Able's words. Both of them had different points of view; though with Able's history, he had seen war. Jean herself had not. It was all speculation on her behalf, as she did mention, she'd rather for the happier, easier option. Potential. Happy potential. Let's all join hands and skip down the sunny path to freedom, potential. Always hope for the best. Get scorned? Try, try again. And never give up.
"A few of us know that asking, getting and receiving that sort of technology would be a bad thing for all of us right now. Though I will be the first one to claim that I am not surprised that SHIELD has managed to take whatever they found for their own."
There was a flash of disappointment however at hearing that the Skrull was gone. Her nose wrinkling at the thought of how it managed to.. dissipate itself. Perhaps there were particles left behind for Hank to study? Or one of the many brilliant minds in the mansion? Time to see to it themselves.
"I understand." Jean finally says as she rises from the desk, both hands planted upon the desk to push herself upright, her left lifting within the air, finger extended to whirl in a circle. The closed door opens with a slow and winding creak, signifying.. quite possibly the end of the conversation as a whole. Did she though? Really understand what Maximus was getting at?
Time will tell.
But before anything decides to blow up bigger than what it was, Jean finally straightens up and clears her throat, the same friendly smile smacked upon her face along with a tilt of her head. "Thank you, Mr. Boltagon. I really mean it. You've given us a wealth of information to go on, and perhaps something more to discuss in the future." She nods seriously at that, her smile dropping as she glances towards Kaleb. "Three hours." Uh-huh. Maximus has three hours to leave the premises or super-ultra-mind-wipey-Charles will come home and throw Emma into battle.. (maybe).
Those vast, calm green eyes hold their secrets in the sylvan vastness. Scarlett's expression carries the serenity of Kuan-yin, the eastern effigy of mercy, the enigmatic smile too calm and wise for all her few years. She extends her slim fingers, palm raised upwards, a gesture of peace as old as the faded wooden statuettes of the maternal bodhisattva. Agreeable, perhaps. And upon that note, she awaits Jean, one way or the other.
Rogue goes home.
Maximus lifts his hand and then suddenly smiles super charmingly, "Is that all we need, Kaleb? Its possible. A frequency that would force instability in their make-up. I think we should work on that device." Maximus looks at the ceiling. "Better than the radiation device I was thinking on. That one had possible mutations like extra arms in fetuses, or cellular decay, particularly about the face. Minor casualties." he takes a calming breath, "But, what's that to an entire galaxy?"
It had occurred to Echo that Scarlett may be here at this meeting very much in the same capacity that he was: caretaker and handler. Iiiinteresting. The young mutant's head was swimming with angles and factored variables and all the implications that Jean was implying with two little words. "Ma'am" Which was a yes, and a thank you for the extended hospitality. He looked to maximus as he was already inventing things. Something said very quietly between all of those possibilities actually made the natty young man warm a grin, "Well… it complicates handshakes and that messes up interplanetery diplomacy I'd imagine. C'mon. we'll brainstorm. Ms. Grey, You know how to get ahold of me." By his brain and shake until it rattles so he knew to report in. "Let's head back. we cna talk on the way."