Marvel: In the Beginning...
Log Title:A Hound at the Heels
Summary:Meeting with Xavier, Scott decides to come to terms with his clouded past.
Players:Scott Summers, Charles Xavier
Location:Xavier's Office - X-Mansion - North Salem

Scott is in his usual sleeveless shirt and ripped up jeans. Getting him to dress up is sort of a painful process. His knock is firm on Xavier's office door. When invited, he will step inside. Proper posture as per usual, there is something stiffer about him than usual. But for you he tires a slight smile, "Greetings Professor."

Xavier has been reading over a letter sent to him when the knock came to his door. A quick mental peek told him it was Scott but he didn't peek any further. Slipping the letter into his desk, the wheel-chair bound man clears his throat. "Come in, Scott," he calls. "Hello."

"I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time to talk to you about something?" As if each of your minutes are precious or something, but that's Scott for you. He motions toward a chair in front of your desk, asking your permission before he takes a seat. Whatever it is, weighs heavily on the young man, not that it is terribly unusual.

Xavier frowns a moment as he picks up on the stress. "Please, sit down," he gestures towards the chair. "What's troubling you, Scott?"

Scott sits with his hands in his lap, leaning only slight forward to reveal the earnestness of his thoughts. "The attack on Alex, the Nasty Boys and the pale faced man." This isn't easy for Scott, but he talks about it with you. "I...can't remember. He said he would be watching Professor, and I feel like Alex, and perhaps even the school can be in danger. But I...I don't even have a name to put with the face. Fragments of memories have been appearing, and...I'm ashamed of them." He takes a deep, steadying breath. "I feel like I'm in limbo. One moment I'm fine, and the next I'm assaulted with anxiety. I do not like feeling like this."

Xavier listens quietly, hands folded before him on the desk. His brow furrows as the attack is mentioned and even more when that pale faced man comes up. He has people out looking for clues as to who that man may be but so far nothing has been found. "No one does, Scott," he assures the younger mutant. "Why are you ashamed of these memory fragments? What are they of?"

Scott raises a hand and rubs the back of his neck. "Smells, dark halls, screams, like you can smell the fear," none of this easy to confess as his voice is tense. "I remember fragments of the Nasty Boys, of being afraid of them, how they are dangerous and even malicious. I guess, I just don't feel right leaving it like this."

Xavier takes a deep breath and lets the information roll around in his head. He regards Scott thoughtfully but with concern. By the sound of things, these memories are from some time ago. Perhaps even when Scott was much younger. He lets out a thoughtful noise and nods. "I believe discovering the source of these memories may help you deal with them."

A nod at that. "I've been thinking about it a lot," Scott admits. "The orphanage I was at. Alex has some memories of it, but he was only there a short time compared to me...he remembers 'stress tests', least that is what he calls them. I think I may have found the place in question."

Xavier closes his eyes just a moment. The thoughts that came to mind were not ones he wished to dwell on. The news that Scott had found the place does surprise the man in the wheelchair but he doesn't let it show. "Where?"

"Nebraska. I remembered that I was in an orphanage in Nebraska when I ran away, everything else I blocked. When I searched for records on Alex, I found some of my old ones. I decided to go back and just trace my old records. I found the transfer to an orphanage not long after I awoke from my coma, the same orphanage Alex was in until he turned up in California. Everything looks legit, all 'normal' I guess. But...," his gut is screaming no.

Xavier is silent for some time, considering many things. Eventually, he decides to test something. "I think it would be best if someone were to go there and investigate," he says, waiting to see if Scott reacts as he thinks he will.

A slight smile. Your blessing is all Scott would ever seek. People may call him a boy scout or a goody-to-shoe, but in the end, he just wants to live up to your ideals as they have become his too. He nods firmly, "I think that would be wise." Scott has his own internal conflict of emotions to deal with still, but he believes this is the right path to take.

Xavier smiles slightly. Just as he thought. "Any of the X-men are at your disposal, Scott. Take along anyone you wish," he offers. He would have offered himself if not for such a large load of work that required his personal attention.

Scott shakes his head, "If...I'd rather go alone," he confesses. He doesn't want to talk about this to anyone else, too much of a private person for his own good. "Mind if I leave my extra keys to my motorcycles in your office?" He hopes Kurt or anyone else would think twice of stealing his keys from you. He is still pissed off at Kurt for 'borrowing' his motorcycle without permission. Anyway, Scott is doing a simple distraction technique (which likely fails epically) to distract you from having someone go with him.

Xavier closes his eyes again. He'd expected that as well. And while he does wish his student would allow someone to go with him, he won't push. "Very well. I will make sure no one borrows your motorcycle again while you're away," he says with a knowing smile. One doesn't need to be a mind reader to hear some gossip in the school.

A nod at that, "I'll drop the keys off and extra helmet before I go." Scott moves to rise and take his leave but pauses. "Thank you Professor." Professor, it's almost a form of endearment toward the old man to Scott. "I'll leave today." Go figure, Scott is already packed and ready to go. Teens...

Xavier quirks a brow at how quickly Scott's decided to go but nods. "Travel safely, Scott," he says as always.

Scott feels slightly more at ease after speaking to you about his concerns. But the clouded memories still nip at his heels and haunt him. He takes his leave after a respectful nod, and slips out of your office. He has some notes to write before he leaves.

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