1965-01-31 - Utopia
Summary: Members of X-Blue are transported to the future, where a better, more peaceful Central Park resides.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
able jay rogue jean-grey 

Close to two weeks ago, members of the X-Blue crew managed to stop an assassination attempt on Logan Howelett. Apparently, he was key to the survival of whatever future that they were to come upon, though that little nagging in the back of ones mind wonders just what in the world did they change? Saving his life was worth it, of course, and the mutant himself knows no better for he wasn't told of the incident that would happen quite possibly ten years into the future.

For he will be by himself and they will be there to save the day again. Time was a piece of shit like that.

Two weeks ago, at the same time/different time/place, Jean Grey managed to capture the elusive time jumping mutant. Though whatever damage was caused by her was suspect, for now the members of the X-Blue team were imprinted; where ever she sends them they will go. Her powers, the girls', hasn't been explained wholly just yet.

But now they all gather around her as she sits upon the chair within the medbay. Chewing down a sandwich made by Nurse Anne, eating the meat filled goodness hungrily and as if she had never in her life tasted something so wholesome.

And it's true. She hasn't.

"Forry.." She says through smacked lips, her hand lifting to press the back of it against her lip, sheepishly looking to those gathered.

"I've been so hungry.."

Most of the time when she did talk, she spoke of her mother and father. How her father could shoot beams from his hand and her mother, a shapeshifting type mutant. There was talks of a distant family member who had possibly had the same gifts as she, as to why she was born with such a magnificent talent. Sadly, she had no way to directly control it when emotions run high. It was clear, that she felt safe here. Everyone had seen to that.

(Even if she is one of the hidden ones due to Jean's manipulations.)

"..they were huge." She begins, her eyes nearly growing vacant, her hands within her lap to wrench the gown in between her fingers. "We didn't see much else of them but their feet. And it seemed like whatever they touched they devoured, if we could see their hands." She sniffs a little, her hand reaching up to wipe away at her nose.

"But as my father says. He remembers the stories of old. How the X-Men were heroes. How they saved the world many times over, and how his great, great, great, great, more great grandfather and mother were apart of it. But he said that something went wrong with most of them. Some of them at least. When they created peace on Earth, there was nothing left for them to do. So they just laid down and died.." She frowns at that.. then leans back into her chair.

"That's when the trouble started. When all of the X-Men died. He doesn't know how they did but he knows that a few of them managed to get out. But.. it was like they weren't needed anymore and.. and.." She shook her head. "But that's where papa told me to take you. To where it starts. At least where he think it starts. I know how to get there, cause he told me and I trust him. Alls you gotta do is just take my hand.."

Cause even if her hand wasn't taken.. they were going -anyways-.

Like they weren't needed anymore; like they were no longer necessary. An odd thing to hear about a future incarnation or, honestly, her potential self. Scarlett will worry about the possibilities of things gone terribly, utterly wrong later, preferably with a good cup of tea to ameliorate her concerns. A warm drink calms nerves and imparts good, wholesome health benefits.

She pushes a plate of crackers and cheese at the girl just in case, for the opportunity to ensure their guest is fed, content, and less likely to break into a hangry rage.

This is a pile of revelations that doesn't sit entirely well with Able. He's a thoughtful person. A man of science. This smacks of speculation and guesswork.

Then again, it's also coming from Jean.

There's a quick patting down as he checks himself for necessities. His revolver, trench knife, and various other odds and ends. Ultimately he must be satisfied, because he looks Jean in the eye and reaches out to clasp her hand. They've had an understanding for quite a while. Where she goes, he goes. So, with a certain amount of grimacing and bracing, he preps himself for what's to come. "We're not here for a snack. Let's go."

The apology managed with a forgiving curve of Jay's lips and wave of his hand. Forgiveness came easy for him in most situations. "Don't stand on formality fer us. Folks got to eat." Murmuration level and easy as he slides both hands into his pockets again. Poised standing near one of the walls with the rest in attendance, his wings hovering just off it as they loom behind the young man.

He's interested in hearing about her family—after all, who other than a man from a close knit family understands that bond? Listening to those memories and explanations followed up by questions and conversation when he is able. When there aren't more pressing matters and considerations from other members of the team, that is. The distress in explanation, history to her but a possible future for them, has Jay frowning softly while bright eyes dart around to the others in the room, meeting others before falling back on their guest.

"Well, it's as good a place as any, now ain't it?" His serene smile reappears, feathers rippling behind him in a whisper. "There's always more t'do, so we'll make sure folks remember all that, huh? Necessity doesn't always mean breakin' stuff down, but buildin' it up, too. Don't worry, huh?" Consoling. Positive. Reassuring. Jay flicks his attention back to Scarlett and the doctor as well to see if there's anything else either of them need before heading out. He nods and winks toward their guest, remarking in a hush. "Let's see what this place yer papa told ya about's all about." Shoving forward, he holds a hand out in offering.

Jean lingered close to the girl as she spoke; mostly of her past and reliving the memories and actually seeing the thoughts that drew upon her mind. It wasn't as if they had formed that tell-tale bond as she had with many others, the hive-mind of Jean, the possible future hosts of the spirit that calls her. Her arms, folded about her chest as she leans against the wall, soon stepping forward for it was a story that she's heard and relived herself many times over.

There wasn't a hand hold for Scarlett, even though there may have been gloves upon her digits, but the plate of cheese and crackers were soon taken up by Jean, the few floated within the air and assembled into something of sandwiches and immediately stuffed into her mouth with a hand that was as invisible as most. Jean had an empty stomach. Never travel when you're like this.

"Guess we're going.." She mutters quietly, her hand taken up by Able, the girl.. taking Jay's hand in which Jean.. holding the cheese and crackers, looks left and right to find a place to put them. No.. they're coming with.

A foot strikes out to press upon the top of Jay's foot to form the connection, and a little nudge of her other foot to strike across to touch upon Scarlett's shoe which makes her look rather.. well. Silly. She just wanted the cheese and crackers.

The girl closes her eyes then…

…the air seemingly grows slightly cold..

..everything goes black and…

NEW YORK: 1988 - Central Park

The sun was high in the air of this spring day. There was barely a cloud in the sky and the ones that slowly moved by were not stagnant. Everything was a field of green, the park itself, which used to be littered with the odd paper here and there, or housing a bum who would linger upon the bench seemed almost fantastical. Benches were new. Fresh wood. Polished to a near shine that one would see them twinkle. The road itself was made of cobblestones and the rolling hills were decorated with flowers that dared not be picked.

Some may want to. But something tells them not to.

There were smiling faces abound! Smiling.. all smiling. Clothing made of various bright colors that were a far cry from what was seen in 1965. Shoulders were bared and ankles were shown, elbows were crooked and clean. Women walked with full view of bosoms in bodice like tops and some even wore spikes upon their wrists. The hair?

Get out of here with that hair.

Some were bleached blonde dyed, high red, black roots and a little twinge of green from a mishap. But no one really cared. And the most shocking thing of all?

Mutants. Obvious mutants, those who couldn't hide did so no longer and were out, hobnobbing it with the normals. Everyone was someone here. Everyone was happy here. Most of them held hands and even sang songs together while walking.

It was clear who was family and not. Though, if someone were to ask another, they would claim they all were. It was just.. happy. The dream was achieved! And man.. it was refreshing to see all of the work, the troubles, the tormoil to end racism of all sorts come to something like -this-.

"Uh.." Jean starts, looking towards the rest of the crew, to those out in the park. Hell. It even brings a smile to her face.

"This.. I.. I can really get behind this!"

Scarlett will not comment upon crackers or gear; her go-bag is always packed, the readiness to take to the road wherever that may be the hallmark of a nomad born, bred, or absorbed. Whatever constitutes a need to see over the far horizon applies especially on the cusp of temporal frontiers, into terra incognita such as only one person present here truly knows. Her own concerns fall to the brilliant wayside, supporting her teammates in their pursuits of future dates, destinies that will not begin for another decade or two yet. Twenty-five years in the future is a far, far time, a fresh generation ahead, one full of floating cars and big hair, colours and social equality and…

Her blithe wink to Jean is meant to be comforting. Possibly it is, fearless soul tumbling into the future gateways of unknown places and times.

Flowers. Do not pick the flowers. She has the wild fiery hair shocked white and the frost hidden, but none of those gorgeous meadow blooms to weave into her plaits. With a sigh, she will leave them away. Give her a moment to examine her surroundings, sunny smile concealing a skeptic's mind and a very, very old sense of … something. Hope always comes arm-in-arm with broken faith. "I need one of those shirts."

As always, Able's attire is classic in any period. Fitted black suit, slim tie that matches, white shirt. His coat is lightweight, dark grey and seems suitable for any season.

Instinctively. his free hand reaches inside his jacket and cocks the hammer of the burly Webley he always carries. The WWI-era sidearm has served him well, and some form of sixth sense is telling him he'll need it sooner rather than later. "It's too soon to be sure," he mutters. "But this does seem rather decent. In an adventurous sort of way. What can we do to help?"

Bemused over the shoe-touch, Jay nudges his toes back, up against the foot over his and waits with a little stilting in his breath. Tense. His wings pressed down against his back tightly, waiting for…

Jay didn't realize he closed his eyes, but to have to open them up again when he felt the sun on his face, he exhaled a loose breath and shivered out those great feathers, turning his face up toward the sun in a welcoming motion. Looking around, getting his bearings and then looking for the rest of the team. Quickly his attention gets snagged by a young woman with teal hair and bare shoulders, spinning Jay around just to run into a group of visible mutants walking around and Jay's jaw drops. He's always worried in these situations if he needs to be hiding but…no. Apparently not. If anything, he's just a little retro with his clothing choices, but honestly, folks are just going to accuse him of ripping off Jim Morrison (whoever that is!). And those wings tremble with it as he turns around slowly in awe. Smiling as well when he turns to face Jean, exhaling a puff of shocked laughter. "Uh. Yeah!" Followed by another puff of laughter to Scarlett, "That's how Kale 'n' Ah felt about the music last time rou—ooh!" That's right, music!

No. No no no no. Oh man. He reels himself back in and licks his lips.

"Yeah, that's the trouble ain't it?" He agrees with Able. "What do ya look for when everythin' seems…" Jay drifts and gestures to a group of mutants and humans talking together and shrugs. "Sorta perfect?"

Jean immediately reaches out to press a hand against Able's chest. Right where he hid the pistol. "It's okay.." She says quietly. "I don't think there's.. really anything to help with here yet. Maybe she put us in the wrong time?" But goddamn, did she enjoy the sight.

For there was a mutant who lumbered around with obscenely huge arms and hands, fists pounding against the ground as he walked along with another boy who was about the same height and normal. They laughed when the normal man tripped over a rock and caught his balance, then looked around to see who all noticed. Jean noticed, and she smiled.

Shirts. Clothes. Shoes. Hair?! Jean wanted it all! She was starting to feel like a true outsider in her pale green dress who.. probably looks even worse retro than Jay. "This.. is fantastic.."

Shirts? They are going to get those shirts. Music? Can they get the music too? The world seemed to be their oysters now and they might as well enjoy it!

Speaking of..

A crew of a few youngin's danced, bopped back and forth. A boombox, hung upon a mans shoulder catches Jean's attention, and immediately she lets go of Able and begins to wander.. and the closer she gets..

'So slide over here'
'And give me a moment'
'Your moves are so raw'
I've got to let you know'
'I've got to let you know'

And when the music cuts out? Jean stops, preparing to head away from the crowd with the thoughts of her mistakenly disturbing them..

'You're one of my kind..' The voice intones.. and the music picks back up.. and as Jean faces the three, her nose wrinkles and she bears her teeth in an all too happy-funkified fashion, pointing finger guns towards them and dancing with a roll of her hips that is way.. way too obscene from whence they came. Cause Jay is right. This is sorta perfect.

Scarlett, in her long tunic and leggings, essentially looks like she belongs. Something about the bohemian lifestyle carries through the decades, though she could use a few angular hemlines and neon shades to really be peak awesome. Still, she can feel a little less than odd girl out in rocking that unusual look of hers.

Bit less than feathers, but really. She grins at Jay through her fiery plaits, and tucks her fingers against the curve of her hip. "Before we decide this is the best thing since green tea, we really should reserve judgment. For all we know, we are in the United Soviet States of America. Looks lovely, bit different for those standing on the outside." She has a definite fondness for that beat of the music around her, and yes, Michael Hutchins is something she can deal with well. Kylie has nothing on her dance moves, right?

Despite the various assurances and even Jean's urging, which would normally be more than enough, Able is having a hard time relaxing. Everything is to idyllic. It's not underdone or overdone, it's all just right. If there's one thing he's learned from nearly a hundred years of being oppressed and oppressing others, it's that nothing is just right. And so as much as he'd like to enjoy the moment, he's not able to completely let go. Not right away.

So, hand inside his coat, he watches the others as they enjoy themselves. Then something in him cracks. The need to be vigilant; to constantly expect and anticipate threats. It's something that's always been a part of his life, but now… it isn't. Because it doesn't have to be.

There's an audible CLICK as he lets down his revolver's hammer. Then he smiles and pulls his hands free from his clothing. "For once, I'll say that we should just enjoy this moment. No matter where or when we are, it's something we'll never see at home."

Against all odds, the doctor joins Jean and matches her dance step for step. It might be a bit outside of his repertoire, but he carries the memories of a man who learned a hundred dances over a pile of decades. He'll manage.

Watching Jean wander off, Jay walks after her a few steps, trailing for the sake of impulse in keeping everyone together, but that boombox is /fantastic/ and causes chills, trying to resist the urge to ask if he can take it apart and describe every bit of it to Kaleb and Max later. The dance moves that follow surprising a laugh out of the young man as he turns back to Able and Scarlett, an apologetic lean of a smile toward the latter. "Yer right, sorry." Easily whapped back into place over the sense of elation, rolling his shoulders backward and giving his wings a little stretch in order to recompose himself physically for a business minded angle.

Tossing a small smile toward Able, "Never say never, Doctor. This is what we're supposed to. Be. Um—" There's a tilt of his head in bizarre confusion while the doctor goes to dance with Jean. "Scarlett? Am Ah halucinatin' this?"

"Well.." Jean says through the music as the tempo changes to something a bit more upbeat. Her out-dated moves weren't matched, no, but other people were already dancing along and she tried to mimic. "..that may be so, Scarlett.. but remember what you told me?" Yes. To live a little. Touch and for the love of all that was holy. Love. And she was doing it right now. Kicking and bopping away, not breaking a sweat since her moves weren't all that great.. but hey, girl was getting down on the train to funky-town and everything felt right.

Able's joining in her dancing drew a little bit of a shock. It was rare to see the straight-backed man cut loose and even crack a smile, but it was something of a relief that he enjoyed himself. It made her happy, at least seeing the three enjoy themselves. Perhaps she was feeding off of the energies around town, but whatever bad was supposed to happen?

It didn't.
And it was glorious.

But, it was all going to come to an end, mostly because of the music. The music died out and hands were slapped, hugs were had by the crew behind them and Jean looks on with a light hop and a wave towards them all. "BYEEE!" She nearly screams out, so excited. The situation wasn't over just yet, they weren't immediately transported home. But to wander.. oh.. to wander and dress.. modern. It was like a dream come true.

"Scarlett?" Yes. Big green eyes abound, she wanted to -explore-. "Can we?"

Love, dance, live a little. What's happened to have flipped the girls of Team Redhead? What panoramic view have they shared to have leave Scarlett in the darker shades of grey and Jean ascendant to the white-hot shards of positive buoyancy? Nothing to be overly troubled by, all things considered. She grooves a little to the beat, but that tantalizing saccharine pop hasn't yet woven its spell to enchant her mind under its double-time spell. Not yet. Just wait until they all start humming the chorus together.

Seeing Able and Jean dancing, besides, gives her pause only long enough to lean to the side and ask Jay, "You wonder what they eat in this day and age? You ask me, but the cuisine is the measure of the culture as much as the music, fashion, and art are. And if people are so happily walking around being themselves, then imagine what sort of food scene they have."

Mischief there might just give an element of privacy for the couple paired up to twirl, and also to take her bearings. "Let's go see what sort of trouble we can get into, of course."

The end is not the end. As the dance begins to settle down, Able takes a final opportunity to pick Jean up by the waist and hoist her into the air. It's quick and unexpected to the point of being mischievous. Once he has her feet back on the ground, he shrugs as if even he doesn't know where the outburst came from. Then, the same as when they arrived, he takes her by the hand and walks away from the scene.

"Scarlett's right. Let's go find something to eat." Historically, the doctor's smile would be snide, or condescending, or at least a bit smug. Now it seems simple and pleased. He waves to the others with his free hand. "I imagine inflation is still a thing, but I brought bank notes. I'm buying. /Then/ we go looking for trouble."

Still watching Jean and Abel bust a move, Jay's bobbing his head, tapping his fingers against his thigh, it's impossible for the musician to actually sit still when there are tunes playing. If he's not playing, he's going to sway with it. Still, his third mutation is listening, so Scarlett is being listened to, a slow grin forming over his lips when he notes food and culture behind it. "Oh, Lord, yes. Ah also wanna swing by M.T. an' see what all of that looks like if /this/ is how the park looks. Can you imagine? What kind of blueprint that could be fer what the neighborhood /could/ be?" Seeing possibility all around them, something to shoot for rather than be warry of, the angel-impostor is vibrating with it. Looking for group consensus, there's a flash of a grin and wink to nobody in particular when they agree on good. "Can't go lookin' fer trouble on an empty stomach. That's downright dangerous."

That final opportunity was a moment of joy; soon as she was lifted into the air, arms fan out into a swanish type move, then into a sort of flailing until she was down upon the ground. In theory; it looked great to her, but to everyone else it possibly looked like panic. What in the world was that emotion?

But there was laughter there, no breaths were held as soon as that melodic chirping came from her lips, her cheeks burning a bright red as she heaves a breath, hand reaches up to bat her hair away from her face until her hand was taken and they were -on-. Food was a great idea. There was a thought! Were they going to have pork chops and applesauce? Or one of those good, hearty burgers that she's heard about in other cities.. well, we guess we could say a long time ago. Possibilities were abound, really, and they were going to take their time to enjoy -everything-.

"I bet Mutant Town is going to be gorgeous. If it's anything like this park. Though, I do kind of miss Hobo-Bob and his stories of the war. The guy was really funny." Though, sorrowful, if the truth were to be told. But off they went, possibly to find a McDonalds. Or a Burger King. Wait.. is there a Hardees? Sweet lord.. they're going to get fat!!


The Royal guard stands in front of the throne-room. Which in of itself was vast. Many bodies decorated in gold ornaments and armor stood by with their tridents gripped with gauntlets that look almost terrifying, and ribbed. Gold flecks glitter with the light of the sun, as the lone one sits upon.. watching the discus that floats within the air of the scene of the new arrivals.

"It is a strange thing." The voice carries, for the shift in their weight causes the guards to shift as well. Like all minds connected to one. If they move, the guards move. Not vice versa. It was clear who had the control here. "To see ones so young."

The Royal stands, feet carefully taking on the steps as they descend from their throne, fire licking at their feet, a trail of smoke following after. "You three." They point, finger dripping with fire as the guards step out of line to address their holiness. "Follow them. Watch them. Be my eyes, my thoughts. My feelings. We shall remember if things is as they are, and make them so that they will be…"


As the members of the X-Blue leave the park to head for better pastures, Jean takes a moment to stop and look, the sign that pokes out from the ground, perfectly wedged into the dirt that reads.. 'WELCOME TO UTOPIA'..

..and when she looks just right.. a sidelong glance.. she can see it. She can see the thing that brings a chill that runs up her spine, like death itself has warmed over.

Welcome to Utopia indeed.

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