WELCOME

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

She sat in front of one of the coffee tables in the common room, her set on the floor allowing her to lean over the work she was doing for her English course. She had her laptop open, planning to type it all up after she had written the guidelines and her notes to organise the paper. She was supposed to be exploring the theme of deception in Hamlet, of course she still had a background program up and searching for signals from her parents old cellphone numbers. No one yet had offered her any help on the matter, though she might have declined if they could offer her no more than a shoulder to cry on. She didn't need a shoulder at the moment, she needed answers. But given the recent problems the mutant community was having, her searches had been fewer and farther, as she was training with the combat classes in the hopes that she could eventually be of some use to the X-men. Sorina, formerly Sofia Sorensen, the daughter of two zoologists, born in Kenya, yada yada yada, hadn't shown up at the school originally to fight the good fight for the mutant community. She didn't think that fight mattered, it would never change everyone's mind, people would still hate them. No, when they had come to her telling her they had a place of sanctuary that she could stay, she had agreed because she was afraid of being found out again, of being blackmailed.

Of course, while she had been able to make a few friends – fleetingly – she still had the hardest of times fitting in. Girls and boys alike still looked at her sideways, shocked by her presence or her voice whenever she spoke up or made to help someone. It was something that she probably shouldn't have done, the helping bit. People always thought it out of character, or were mildly insulted. It wasn't that she assumed that they needed her help though, she just wanted to offer it up...maybe so that people didn't continue to look at her so strangely. However, she was just glad that she had been moved into a room with a less-perky person, and not the blonde she had originally been paired up with. God, she could not stand to fake another smile for the benefit of a dorm-mate. Shoving her work on the paper aside, her eyes trailed up to the computer screen, flicking out of the word application she currently had open and checking to see the gridded world map, the lights blinking on it telling her that some signals had in fact been found. But not in Melbourne. Not even in Australia. No, one was triangulated in Sweden, and another in England. She blinked and zoomed in closer to one of them, tracing one of them down to Bolton, and then the other down to Skärholmen, one of the boroughs in the southern part of Stockholm.

Shifting a little, she reached up to wipe at her eye, already feeling a hot tear forming in one of them. This is what she had been waiting for for months. But she couldn't take it as a perfect sign. She had had to search by quadrants, because unfortunately her computer was not capable of the kind of triangulation that was easily accessible by the government, and the program she had was a weak copy of it, designed more for local grids than for international ones. Writing down the first list of addresses, she considered what might be the truth behind this new development. Someone else could have adopted the numbers by now, but why would they be outside of Australia? When her parents had relocated to Melbourne, so had their entire lives. It was supposed to be a semi-permanent settlement. Even Sorina's own phone – which she had smashed the night she had left – had had an Australian number, but all of them were equipped for international travel, given that sometimes they would be out of the country for months at a time. Glaring down at the screen, she took a moment to consider another possibility, that her parents had been able to get away, that they were no longer under the control of the company that had been funding their research.

It could be a trap too, but she didn't think that her would-be husband knew of her minor investigative skills or her amount of stamina and drive, but it was possible. It was then that she started to hear people in the hallway, either passing by or possibly strutting their way in. She didn't want to chance anyone demanding to know what the grid on her screen was about, or why there were blinking dots of green and red. Shutting her laptop, she rubbed her eyes again to stop the waterworks. She didn't want to seem like she was crying, because then someone would likely ask what she was crying over, or what was wrong. Sorina wouldn't have told them, and it would likely make her another enemy amongst the student body. People liked to know things about their fellow students, and unless she came in contact with a really powerful telepath – she had been assured by professor Xavier himself – they wouldn't be able to crack into her true story. To most telepaths, she had some made up background that involved being a young French girl who immigrated to England before she showed up in the United States.

Going back to working on the outline for her paper, Sorina didn't look up to the door to the common room as a couple of people flooded in, nor did she making any motion to recognise who had come in. It wasn't often that she was the first to say hello, and given she was currently sitting with her legs in a pretzel behind the coffee table – and in front of one of the sofas – she wasn't likely to get up and make room for anyone either. She was quite comfortable sitting there on the floor, and if she had to relocate, she could always head back to her dorm and finish her work there, or even on the terrace outside.

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 1034 // NOTES: come one, come all!

TEMPLATE BY FOXY

[JEAN GREY]

For something so simple, a shower could feel like an absolute godsend. In those short minutes, where all you could hear was the quiet thunder of water rushing from the faucet, Jean actually felt as if time had finally stopped for once. Focusing on the drops of water as they collided with her skin made it easier to forget everything, including her previous danger room session.

Her session didn’t quite go according to plan. Her control of her powers had been improving, but during her session something was triggered within her, and she didn’t exactly feel as if she was the one in control anymore. This shouldn’t have come to a shock to her. She knew how powers worked. In their development, they were vulnerable to stress and emotions. Lately, she felt as if she had gone through every emotion in the book, she shouldn’t have been surprised that something could have gone wrong. She’d been trying to focus her powers ‘path of destruction’. She wanted a deeper control, but in her last session her focus was gone, and instead of individual items, her mind felt as explosive as it did in the beginning.

A deep sigh escaped the woman’s lips as the flow of the water finally stopped. She tried to convince herself she was over thinking this. The lack of control in the danger room was caused because of her emotions, when everything calmed down, it would get easier. It had to.
After changing, and getting ready, she pulled red locks of hair back into a messy pony tail. Pale hands slipped deep within the pockets of her jeans as she walked towards the elevator. She felt as if she need to clear her mind from the world around her, and unfortunately that was easier said than done. So the quick and easy fix for the moment seemed to be to fill her mind with hours of brainless television. Maybe ‘hours’ was a bit much, but it was a simple distraction, and that sounded good enough to her.

As the elevator doors slid open, she walked down the hall into the common room, her eyes instantly stopping on Sorina. Sorina was certainly a bit different than most students in the institute- emotionally and physically. Mentally, Jean could sense her walls. She’d never pry, but she could sense it. But really, everyone in that building had something from their past that was worth hiding. Physically- well, she wasn’t your typical teenager, and it didn’t take a telepath to know what the other teens thought. Sometimes Jean wondered what she would have done at their age. Would she have been as senselessly judgemental? She hoped not, but things like that are hard to tell. As for now, she had learned the ‘don’t judge a book by its cover lesson’ far too many times to count.

She gave a simple hello as she walked into the room, instantly beelining for the couch. Her eyes lingered on the girl for a moment, catching the title quickly of the play she was studying. ”Hamlet?” Jean asked raising an eyebrow at the girl. English was never Jean’s favorite subject. She liked practical courses with right and wrong answers. She didn’t care for the personal analysis of soliloquy much. ”Sometimes I wonder how many centuries will pass before they find someone other than Shakespeare to teach to death.” she joked, a faint smirk on her lips.

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

The voice that she heard was not one that she had expected, and because of that, her eyes shot up immediately, looking over Dr. Grey with the sort of curiosity that one might see in the eye of a young child in a museum. A museum of science of course, possibly Boston, with those big Tesla coils all fired up in the theatre of electricity. Sorina had never seen them, but she had seen a brochure once. Interesting as it was, she couldn't imagine setting foot in Boston now, it was far too dangerous. One false move and she could have turned someone into her own Tesla coil. Pushing these thoughts out of her head, she tried to silence her mind completely, knowing that if she thought the wrong thing, Dr. Grey would likely bring it up to her. The woman was a telepath after all, she knew that for a fact, people had told her, and instilled the fear in her that they probably should have. She wasn't afraid of Jean Grey knowing about her past, knowing about her parents, and she wouldn't have been surprised if the woman had been briefed somewhat on her problem. Still, she glanced down at her paper and tried to ignore the woman, but it was hard to ignore someone who had greeted you.

“Hey.” She mumbled quietly, not able to give up much more than that. If there was a gene that gave you the ability greet someone without coming off as a rude bitch or, gave you the ability to charm your way through a conversation with someone, she had missed out on both of those. There had been a time when she could hold a steady conversation and put in the energy that she desired. However, this had been at a time when she wasn't trying to hide completely who she was, and when she hadn't suddenly almost killed someone and left her parents to fend for themselves. To say that she looked at people a little differently now after her trust had been so brutally beaten out of her, was quite the understatement. Though, she continued to stare at Jean for a moment before the woman sat down. Perhaps that was the code for her to leave, or to at least get up and find a new place to sit that wasn't so...in the way. She twisted a little to get comfortable again, ignoring what she thought was the signal, and continuing to write out points, quotations that she could easily remember without having to look back in the book.

The substitute filling in for Miss Frost while she was away wasn't necessarily the best at explaining prompts, but she had figured out what was needed, and hoped that the sub understood what it was that she was giving. She didn't want a failing grade just because the proper instructor wasn't around, but she wasn't going to slack off either. Hamlet seemed to be one of the few plays she'd actually liked in her life, and something about Shakespeare was a bit more intriguing than all of that vampire romance garbage that was being passed around these days. Then, there was Jean Grey again, talking to her like she had made it clear she couldn't die without speaking. When had Sorina given that assumption? She didn't know, but she didn't look up from her paper, even if it was a teacher. “I wouldn't know, I am glad that the students do not get to choose what is on the required reading list though.” She had a point too. Most of the pointless drabble that these kids read was more or less something that would end up giving her a headache, and it wasn't hard for her to analyse something like F. Scott Fitzgerald, or Jack Kerouac if they gave On The Road a chance, and certainly not Shakespeare.

“Besides,” She continued, glancing up at the woman for half a second before diving back in and continuing to fill out her notes while talking, “I prefer the Bard to most of the other authors, poets or dramaturges that are taught anyway.” Of course, originally when she had been home-schooled, the curriculum had been much more advanced than your average public or private school, so she had gotten a better taste at a young age of literature than people around her. Originally Sorina had started reading very young, right between age two and three, long before most people considered the mind developed enough for that. But this had all been born out of her natural curiosity of words, and therefore her parents didn't restrict her, and actually encouraged and taught her. The other kids in Kenyan seemed to be taught this way too before they were able to go to school, if they were able at all. Kenya wasn't like other countries in Africa though, and in some parts it was common to go to school. Still, Jean's presence was there, and she shoved all the memories of Kenya out of her head before looking up at the woman again. “Have I done anything wrong?” She said, her foreign accent extremely prominent at the moment. It seemed to be amplified in her when she thought she was in trouble with someone.

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 881 // NOTES: hola. Sorry I fell asleep last night.

TEMPLATE BY FOXY

[JEAN GREY]

Telepathy is definitely an interesting power. It makes you incredibly aware of the world around you. It’s even more interesting when people are aware of your abilities. Telepathy is a terrifying thing to those who don’t have it – or at least those without much exposure to it. Everyone has dirty laundry. There are secrets some people don’t want to share with the world. Mentally, some people are better at hiding it than others. Those who are paranoid, or the most concerned, are the easiest to spot. Blank minds arn’t normal. The mind is always working, something is always in there. So when the mind is silent, or a wall exists, it’s generally a sign someone is trying to hide whatever thoughts were in the forefront of their mind.

The moment Sorina noticed Jean’s presence she noted that quick mental change. Whatever had been going through the girl’s head before definitely wasn’t about Shakespeare that was for sure. By now, Jean was used to the walls. She found it to be a natural precaution. Even people who were used to telepaths tried to block things from their mind, hell even Scott still did it.

Judging on her past interactions with the teen, the mumbled greeting didn’t come as much of a surprise to Jean. From her observations, Sorina wasn’t exactly one of the most social students at the institute. It seemed like the girl distanced herself on purpose, but she was certain there was a reason for that. Jean knew enough about the girl’s past to assume there was a reason for everything that she did. Now, lets keep in mind ‘enough’ isn’t much. Most students seem to believe there’s a set of files with every detail of their past written down. Frankly, that was a load of crap. Charles always respected privacy. He thought it was an important way to build trust. The teachers, and senior level X-men were generally only told what was crucial, and if the student decided to open up, then they were free to find out whatever they wished. It was a system that worked as far as Jean was concerned. There were plenty of students in that building with a messy past, you learned very quickly how to be cautious and respectable. So when it came to Sorina, Jean knew nothing more than vague facts and minor details. In essence, she knew Sorina ran into trouble when someone found her little secret. It’s the same story most kids there, the details just change along the way.

“Yeah, there’s a reason why the students have little to know say in any of the curriculum.” she said softly as the television remote lifted off of the table and into her hand. It wasn’t just English, if the students had any say in anything they learned in that school, she had a feeling it’d be meaningless babble. She knew how teens worked, particularly teens with powers. You didn’t care about Shakespeare, organic chemistry or calculus, or at least not as much as you should of.

In her years in that building, she had learned how to make the common room multifunctional. Sure, there were still people who argued any time a tv show went on that they didn’t want to see, but Jean had managed to survive the communal aspect of it. In the rare chance she gained control of the remote, and someone else was studying or doing their own thing in the room, the sound down and subtitles went up. Bear in mind, nine times out of ten she rarely cared about what was actually on, and it was much easier to be respectable of someone else’s space when you were a teacher, but regardless she made it work.
Jean had noticed Sorina’s mental barrier fade before reappearing again. What the students needed to do was relax. When the mind’s calm, it’s easier to ignore. Quick changes of the mind can be louder than you think. But she’d stay quiet about whatever it was she noticed. The girl had a right to her own thoughts afterall. “Hmmm? No.” Jean said simply, bright green eyes moving away from the television, back to the girl. “Why would you think you’ve done something wrong?”

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

What was going on here? Dr. Grey had picked up the remote, that much she had noticed, of course, she hadn't heard anything playing on the television. She looked up at it curiously before returning to her paper, trying to focus again. Of course, with someone else there, it was more or less a lost bet. She was no good at keeping her focus when others were around, and she was no good at keeping her focus when those people talked to her. Not that she would ever blame the woman. She understood that some people were more comfortable with voices and sound than they were with silence in each other's presence. Sorina had grown up with the knowledge that sometimes it was more important to listen though, and just as well that animals used noises as a last resort to communicate when they couldn't use body language. Did that mean that Jean Grey was trying to dominate her? No, it was nothing of the sort, but that didn't necessarily make Sorina comfortable with the interaction. Still, she obliged the woman with a curl of the lip that was supposed to be somewhat like a smile. Yes, it was a good thing indeed that the students didn't pick the curriculum.

Especially since Sorina had found herself growing a disdain for the other students. Not only because of the alienation she felt, but because of the fact that part of that was something that she needed. It did keep her from making friends, but her heart had somewhat hardened in the process, and she was in fact becoming that freak they all looked at and saw her as. “I don't honestly find anything wrong with the curriculum at hand, if it matters.” No, she didn't believe that her minor opinion mattered all that much, but she didn't know what the woman really wanted her to say. Sorina enjoyed Shakespeare, and few had the honour that were not British of getting to know his work in depth and even the chance to perform it. Given that she was not English and she hadn't ever been in a theatre or drama club, Sorina was lacking in chances other than this place. “You don't teach English though...” She pointed out, seeing no reason why she shouldn't. At this point she was just fact-stating, because Jean had made a comment about how Shakespeare was taught to death – though the man had been dead even before his work had become a popular asset to education – and Sorina couldn't remember when Jean had ever taught an English class.

Perhaps she was slightly defensive of the Bard, but she liked so few intellectual challenges besides puzzles and computing that one poet or author or dramatist was all she needed, and she would defend them to her own grave. That much she didn't care if Dr. Grey saw. She wasn't interested in someone challenging her back-story, but she was always prepared for a verbal quarrel over opinions, or a mental one for that matter. Still, she didn't like people being in her head, and she was just glad that the professor had locked up all of her memories as best he could. To her, he was the only one that could be trusted with such memories. But now that he was gone...she was afraid she had been wrong to trust even him. Which made trusting the rest of the staff that much harder. Not that she didn't already see some of them in a favouring light. Logan had been one of the ones she had had a better connection with, and while she could never really see herself sitting down for tea with someone like Emma, she didn't necessarily hate all the telepaths in the building. Twirling her pencil in her finger, Sorina cast her eyes down at her paper.

She didn't think she had done anything wrong, but it was possible that she had. People got snippy at her for weird reasons, whether it was her opinion, her straight-forward and blunt answers, her inability to lie to make people feel better, or just the fact that she pointed out random truths about them. “I don't know. People don't usually approach me for small-talk unless it's leading up to a lecture on something that I shouldn't be doing.” Yes, she was very much used to that. Of course, this sometimes followed a bad reaction to a comment she took to heart. People needed a zap sometimes, at least she thought, and she could have easily generated enough electricity to power Tokyo if she really pushed herself. It was then that she started to wonder if Jean had really been in her head. She wouldn't have been surprised if the woman had, it was a telepath's natural reaction to everyone being an open book. Some of them couldn't even control it. Not that she wanted to give the woman a gold star, but she was of course curious to how much the woman could see. “Do you think Charles is ever coming back?” That was probably improper to say, but even when she had first arrived at the school, she had been adamant about calling him the Professor out loud. In Kenya, half the time names were titles, and so you got used to calling someone by their rightful name. By those in Kenya, she had been known as Zuri, and her parents had always called her that in place of her legal name. It was supposed to mean beautiful.

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 921 // NOTES: sorry, it sucks.

TEMPLATE BY FOXY

[JEAN GREY]

“No, no I don’t.” She said softly with a smile glancing over at the girl. “I used to when there were less of us around, but, I like to stick to my strengths.” When it came to selecting a course load, it made sense to her to teach what you know. English, although it was something she was sure she could handle, was nowhere near her best subject. The woman had a practical and logical mind. It was far easier for to explain the nervous system than it was for her to teach about pathetic fallacy. Besides, there were others in that building who appreciated English literature more than she ever would. Maybe she didn’t believe Emma Frost was one of those people, but the point was, there were others better suited for the job.

“ I don't know. People don't usually approach me for small-talk unless it's leading up to a lecture on something that I shouldn't be doing.”
That fact didn’t quite surprise the red head. Sorina never gave off a very ‘personable’ vibe. But who was Jean to judge. It was her next question that surprised her. Charles had become an unspoken subject in the institute. It was like people were afraid to bring him up, or ask about him, because they were afraid of the answer they’d receive of the emotions they’d stir. Actually, Jean respected the girl for asking. At least she was bold enough to address the curiosity that been on everyone’s mind.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she considered the girl’s question. In the beginning, it was clear they needed to show optimism. They had to give the students hope, but now, Jean wasn’t sure what the appropriate way to handle this was. It was easy to give a simple yes, but that felt like nothing more than a lie. The fact of the matter was Charles had been missing for quite some time. They were allowed to hold onto hope, but they needed to recognize the possibility that the man wasn’t coming back.

“Honestly, I really don’t know.” She admitted, green eyes locked on the girl. No, she couldn’t lie. She’d be honest, put all possibilities on the table, and try and maintain some optimism. “I’d like to say yes, because the Charles I know would find a way. But I just- I don’t know. If he’s coming back, we need to find him, and the problem is, no one knows how to do that yet. We’ve always relied on cerebro in the past for circumstances such as this, but I can’t find his mind anywhere with that machine. I wish I had a better answer for you, but I just don’t know, no one really does. But hopefully, we find a way to get him back.”

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

Sorina wasn't one to judge on strengths, as she didn't have many of her own. Sure, she had a control of one of her powers to such a degree that she could have been extremely lethal with it, but it wasn't necessarily in her nature to be so. Even without that she was fairly good at English, fantastic at history for the fact that she had a memory a bit like an external hard-drive, and she was decently if not abnormally gifted in the arts. Her best suited career probably would have been in photography and in graphic design if she wasn't a mutant with a history of a violent outbreak against a husband who she was trying to consider herself having never married. In terms of the law though, and in terms of whatever god saw she most certainly was. But she looked down at her paper and decided that she liked details a bit too much to really be in anything that required her to disregard them, and so therefore she couldn't necessarily be something like a teacher of art, or even of English, where some things were certainly left to opinion. “Biology?” She asked. It was such a different subject than English.

And of course, she couldn't really see the factual Jean Grey being able to open her mind readily to different opinions on literature, since it wasn't necessarily a matter of fact, but more or less interpretation. Still, she shrugged to herself, rolling her shoulders and pulling her copy of Hamlet closer, flipping to the part with the grave-diggers – or clowns, depending on the version you were reading – and going through another one of Hamlet's rants. The fact of the matter was that Sorina had learned Hamlet a long time ago, when her mother was still teaching her English, and she could recite half the play backwards, but still...she didn't want to look like she had some advantage over her peers. It made her think about trust in a way, considering that a lot of the story was based upon how much deceit could do to people, a whispered poison, a lie that built trust, only to have it broken. And then there was the fact that Hamlet was always second guessing himself, and he would relate to what he was going to do, but by the time he actually managed it...he didn't come out of it alive either.

When Jean finally started to answer her question, she fell silent, not meeting her eyes, but turning her face in the woman's direction so that she would at least know that the girl was listening. That was what she did. She would turn to a person, but unless she really wanted to see what it was they were thinking about her through their expressions – even their vacant ones – she kept eye-contact to a minimum. “And you all think he was kidnapped then?” She didn't honestly know what the X-men thought, or what the true story was, but time was moving on and the Professor still hadn't returned. So, she was lacking another person to trust. Maybe it was about time she actually found a female role-model to look up to. She fiercely believed and hoped that her parents were still alive, but if they weren't, she really had no woman in her life to guide her on now. Because of that, there were pangs in her emotions, the ones that needed a mother to talk to. “He was the only one I really thought I could trust. And now he is gone. I'm sure I speak for a lot of the students – no matter how much they hate me – when I say that a trust has kind of been trodden on.”

Yes, they had all trusted the professor, and when he had disappeared, it had been a blow. The rumour going around with half of the students was that the professor had left on purpose. The idea that he had exposed the school for what it really was had put them all in a great amount of danger, and now he was just gone? What the hell were they supposed to feel? All the love and gratitude in the world, clearly! Yes, all of them were certainly worried who had any connection to the professor, but there was still that underlying feeling of betrayal that she was sure some of them felt. She herself kind of felt it too. “He was the only one who knew what had happened with me, and what I did.” She admitted, finally glancing up to Jean before turning away again, writing more notes on her paper. Her ability to multi-task never faltered, not even when she was about to reveal something vital to someone. “Maybe the fact of the matter is that he just doesn't want to be found.” Like me, she thought, before letting out an audible sigh and pushing her papers away slowly.

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 826 // NOTES: 'tis not quality, but 'tis done!

TEMPLATE BY FOXY

[JEAN GREY]

Jean grew silent as she processed the girl’s words. The problem was, lately she didn’t know what she believed. In her mind, there were three possibilities when it came to Charles’ disappearance. Either he was kidnapped, he left on his own, or well... the third was the possibility that no one wanted to acknowledge. As hard as it was to accept, there was a chance the man was dead. For her, it was easy to believe the man was kidnapped. When he revealed the truth about the morlock massacre he pissed a lot of powerful people off. There was no doubt that someone wanted Charles Xavier silenced. But with his abilities, he wasn’t an easy man to kidnap or kill. Lately, the idea that he left on his own was becoming more logical to the woman. If he was alive, he’d know how to block his mind from cerebro. He’d know better than anyone how to shut them all out.

The problem with that option was it brought up too many pains. It was hard to think the man you trusted like a father would leave without any notice, but Charles’ first priority had always been the safety and well being of the students and staff in the manor. He knew that there was a target on him, and the school by association. Maybe the man realized the longer he was in that building, the more he was putting everyone else at risk. Maybe, somewhere within his deep logic, he thought it was better for everyone if he left without a word. “No.” she finally admitted, looking over at Sorina. ”Some of us believe that, and others don’t. It’s a possibility though, and we can’t deny that. ”

She grew silent once again as the girl spoke. She knew a little too well how that loss of trust felt. Every time she considered the possibility that the man left on his own accord she couldn’t help but feel betrayed, but then she needed to stop and realize that Charles was a logical man. Any choice he made must have been for a good reason. “It’s not just the students who feel like that Sorina, I felt like that, and I’m sure other teachers have too. Charles taught me privately before I moved here, so I’ve known him since I was about nine. When he first disappeared, it was easy to believe he was kidnapped. I never had to question anything I believed about him, but once I started to consider other options- well it was hard. But Charles is one of the most genuine men I’ve ever met. If he left on his own, there’s no way he’d do so without a justified reason, so I wouldn’t lost trust in him just yet.”

Jean nodded as Sorina spoke vaguely about her past. Even if Jean didn’t know the details, the fact was, with most students in the school, Charles was the only one who knew the good, the bad and the ugly. He was easy to open up to, and he kept a secret better than anyone she ever met. “If he doesn’t want to be found,” she began, mentally catching Sorina’s thoughts as they wandered to her own past. “I promise you there’s a reason for that. I know you opened up to him, we all have, but even if he’s not here, there are still others you can trust. I know it hurts, just don’t lose faith in him yet.”

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

The two of them were certainly an odd pair to have a conversation about trust. She couldn't remember an instant where she had had a conversation with Jean outside of a class-room, unless it was in regards to a questions she had about the assignment – which wasn't often, as she found asking for help was pointless, if she didn't get it, another explanation of the same material in the same manner wasn't going to help her any – and she wasn't sure that was a particularly bad thing. Her intention had never been to get close to any of the teachers, nor the students for that matter. Sure, there were a couple she talked to occasionally, she had assisted Five-In-One before without hesitation, but it wasn't like she could pin-point which of them was Celeste and which was Sophie. Still, to trust Jean Grey would be a new step for her, one she was hesitating to take. It wasn't that she thought the woman was malevolent, or that the woman wanted to hurt her or something, but she often times couldn't find herself trusting anyone without being given a proper reason as to why she should. The woman, however, seemed to disregard any mistrust from Sorina.

She could appreciate that, at least the woman wasn't trying to force her to open up, which sort of made Sorina trust her in a way, and if there had to be a female figure among the staff that she confided in, it should at least be a telepath like the professor, so she could avoid having her secrets spilled to people. Though, from what she could tell, the other two acting female telepaths seemed to have a little bit of a bad side – at least those were the rumours around the building – so she had already decided to avoid them as much as was possible, lest they should confront her. “Us, by us you mean the X-men, but not yourself?” She wasn't a fool to believe that the X-men were just some crime-fighters who were protecting the school in hopes that they would all grow up to be messengers for the word of Xavier. No, those people had been students too, and they likely felt some degree of hurt in their leader just disappearing like that, just as well she knew they had formulated opinions about what had happened. “Just so you know, I want to help in any way that I can. I don't want to feel like I took from him and haven't paid my debts.”

She didn't like mooching at all, and she wouldn't have liked it if someone had come into her house and started living there, been given clothes, and food, and shelter and didn't even bother to take a chance in finding her if she had disappeared. What betrayal she would have felt then. Besides the fact that she was only seventeen years old, could have been threaded through the eye of a needle because she was so thin, and didn't necessarily have the most experience with combat except for what she'd got out of the former student squad she'd been on, Sorina believed she could be a future asset to the X-men, if they'd let her. And if any of them started the argument about how she was a child, she would gladly let them in on the truth about her so that they couldn't argue. For a girl of only seventeen with nothing to fall back on, running from Melbourne and up through Asia and Europe seemed like no simple feat. Still, she knew the fight she would have to give to be allowed to repay the debts she had. God, these people loved their charity cases. “I'm not losing my trust, I just feel...a bit lost, betrayed. I may not know him as well as everyone else, but I don't think he was the kind of man to go easily unless he knew there was going to be no harm done to the rest of us...or himself.” That gave her an idea though.

Shifting to face the older woman, she watched Jean's eyes a moment, following them wherever they went. That could be unnerving for people, mostly because the knew she didn't have a tendency to make eye-contact, and when she did, she was as alert as a lioness about to attack. “What if what happened was a combination of a couple things...maybe he went willingly, but made a deal. He was kidnapped, but he left by choice.” That was possible, and she wasn't sure that anyone had thought of that yet. If they hadn't, would that be some kind of new lead for them? No, they had to have thought of that, they had to of. Their team was comprised of teachers, after all. Then again, she couldn't really say that all teachers were geniuses. She argued still with a lot of them, challenging the facts they were giving and their logic. “I could help look...” She mumbled quietly before dragging her computer closer to her and opening it, quickly logging in and then showing the coordinate grid she had up. “I need to tell you something, and you might be able to help me.” Looking now to Jean, there was a slight bit of desperation in her eyes, the kind that was asking for permission to talk and to trust that there would be no judgement.

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 906 // NOTES: sorry tis late!

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[JEAN GREY]

“I'm not losing my trust, I just feel...a bit lost, betrayed. I may not know him as well as everyone else, but I don't think he was the kind of man to go easily unless he knew there was going to be no harm done to the rest of us...or himself.”

“I think you’re completely right.” Jean said bluntly, clearing sharing the teen’s opinion towards Charles. Sure, Jean knew Charles longer and better than the girl, hell, she knew that men better than most people in the institute. She was young when she met him, and due to the nature of her powers, she spent a substantial amount of time training with the man. But it didn’t matter how much time you knew someone; there are always certain traits that are clear about a person. As for Charles, you could spend an hour with the man and realize he was one of the most genuine people you’d ever meet. Like everyone else, he wasn’t perfect and he had his share of faults, but it was clear that man genuinely cared about the students in his school. He wouldn’t leave without a fight or a reason. It was as simple as that.

Jean arched an eyebrow as Sorina turned to face her. There was a look in the girl’s eyes that told Jean that something had just clicked within the girl’s mind. Frankly, her theory made a lot of sense. It definitely connected a lot of the theories others had come up with, and it was practical. Knowing Charles the way she did, the girl’s idea made a lot of sense. When Charles went public, he put the school at a substantial amount of risk. If he knew disappearing would eliminate a lot of danger for the students, part of her thought he’d agree no matter how much or little he wanted to go. “You may be on to something... ” she said softly as her mind raced. She tried to consider the possibilities and the validities. The more she thought about it the more the girl’s idea seemed to work. Charles created a lot of enemies very quickly. There were a ton of people out there who would accept or create any deal to get the man out of the picture.

Since the professor disappeared, many students had offered to help. She assumed they felt an obligation, and that was fair. But the point was, it was too dangerous to put any students at risks with the way the world was looking right now. But, just as Jean was about to being the ‘the help is appreciated, but...’ talk, the girl flipped open her computer. A look of curiosity quickly appeared on Jean’s face as she watched the girl pull up the coordinate grid. Alright, clearly the teen had a different way of helping in mind. Jean’s eyes moved quickly between the grid on the machine, and she finally nodded at the girl’s words. “You can tell me whatever you feel you need to.”

[SORINA LESTRANGE]

What am I here for? I left my home to disappear is all. I'm here for myself, not to know you. I don't need no one else, fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later....

Sorina shrugged, seeing as it didn't seem like a hard thing to imagine. One just had to consider the motivation there was to kidnap someone. Especially Charles Xavier. The man was pretty much the face of the mutant cause in America, and the fact that he had a school harbouring a bunch of young mutants that were easily swayed, she could see all the playing cards that were on the table. “There is another possibility. What if someone threatened Charles with the fact that the school his here, that the school has been a haven for mutants, that they wanted to take some of us, or all of us.” It could have been a thing about a power-struggle. Sorina wasn't daft, and she had seen plenty of films, but had also been the victim of blackmail as well – and almost an unwanted sexual relationship with a man who had already forced her to marry him – but just as well, she was trying to think of things that were plausible, not just what was convenient. Maybe she was angry, and that would make her lean toward the conveniences, but for all of their benefits, it was better to get logical than to get angry.

Her hands started to wave a bit a she started to explain, the kind of thing her father had always done when he was talking, referencing something like it was right at his fingertips. “Of course, I have a better explanation than that. What I mean is...maybe he ousted the school so that there was less of a chance that one person would try to take it over. I mean, you're all on high-alert now...it'd be harder for someone to slip in, wouldn't it?” She figured that could be a tactic. Charles was an intelligent man. He was a tactical expert too, as far as she had been led to believe, despite the fact that he didn't seem to have the ability to really go into battle. At least, she was pretty sure that would have qualified as a bad idea on someone's part if not his own. “He could have ousted the school to protect it from a real threat. Now that it has everyone's attention, it isn't really a simple matter of taking over the school or shutting it down. There would be a hell of a fight.” That's what she figured anyway. Sorina may not have been there longer than most of the students, but she had an uncanny ability to climb walls, and therefore she could hear conversations going around.

Clearing her throat, Sorina pointed to the grid on her computer and tried to find words to fit with the situation. “It's a trace program, designed to look for certain cellphone signals. Even if it scrambles the signal by bouncing off several towers at once, it can usually map out a projected area for whoever I am looking for...the numbers in there now are my parents.” Swallowing, she turned the computer back to her own view and started to zoom into one part of the grid, bringing up a street that was calculated based off of the GPS. “I don't know if it's really them. I did something horrible when I was still living in...Australia. I was blackmailed into marrying someone. My parents are researchers and they were working for a big corporation who was funding their work. He promised to tell his father, who was the CEO, and have their funding cut, and worse, have us all arrested for conspiring to murder.” Yes, this probably all sounded silly, impossible. Whatever the woman might think, she had been there, and she hadn't been strong, she had been terrified. Well, that was up until she took control of the situation.

“I electrocuted him, because I was scared. He is still alive, I made sure of that.” She bit into her lip and glanced down at the keys a moment before clicking her screen over to the word document that she'd had open to work on her essay with. “Doesn't change what I did, but I've gathered a few skills since I left Melbourne. I know how to get information from people. I can help you find the Professor if you need it. And I don't want any of that you're a student, we don't want your help cause we don't want you to get killed bullshit. If I'm right, you all were just students once too, and you put your necks on the line.” That much she had gathered from the whispers about the history of the X-men, that they hadn't been any older than any of the students when they had started going out and working toward the safety of humanity. Dr. McCoy the genius, Scott Summers the messiah, Jean Grey the heroine. They were all positions these people fit for the kids, but they hadn't gotten there over night. “I think it's about time you stopped saying no to all of us. I also need help finding out about my parents.”

TAGGED : open! // LYRICS: l.e.s. Artistes by santogold // WORDS: 846 // NOTES: sorry that it's late!!!! the post was buried!

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