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Marvel: Age of Heroes
Log Title:Welcome to Xavier's
Summary:Jennifer Takeda gets her official invitation to Xavier's Institute.
Players:Jennifer Takeda, Scott Summers
Location:Scott's Office - Xavier Institute - North Salem
Warnings:None.


Scott Summers is dressed casually, much like the last time you saw him as not Cyclops. He sits behind a desk, your meeting having been set with him today after you have been given plenty of time to sleep in after your stressful day. His office door has been left open, and Scott currently sits behind his desk doing paperwork and some data entry on the computer. He appears thoughtful, his expression serious, even intense. It's a normal expression for him. On the front part of his door, it reads:


Scott Summers

Assistant Headmaster


Jen was told to come see Scott by somebody -- or possibly by nothing more than a voice in her head. Doesn't matter. She's been pretty much lost in the huge X-mansion, and she's more than a little unnerved -- she hasn't exactly been away from home a lot. Notably, her parents didn't call her cell phone. She hopes they're okay. But sometimes she hopes they aren't, because that would be an excuse for them not to call.


After asking three people for directions and wandering down the wrong corridor a half dozen times, Jen finally appears in the door frame, hesitates a moment, and then knocks. "Mr. Summers? You wanted to see me?"


Scott glances up, and smiles weakly, "Yes, come on in Ms. Takeda." He motions a seat in front of him. "How are you feeling today?" He waits to talk about your parents a little later into the conversation. Things will be less dramatic that way, he hopes.


Jen frowns slowly. The weak smile, that's not a good sign. It suggests that the man is holding something back. "What is it?" she asks, voice sharper. She's used to things going wrong. "I can't stay here, right? I'm too dangerous and you want me out?"


Scott sighs, "I should never expect a teenager to be patient." So he does it the hard way, "Your parents have moved, your things are being boxed up by staff now to be brought here if you wish to attend. Your parents are fine, just busy and will call you tomorrow. Do you want to go to school here and enter training? This will mean you have regular school classes, along with additional training courses with power control, power use, combat training, tactics training, and so on. This isn't a normal school Ms. Takeda. It's a school that is training mutants for important positions in the future, be they heroes, political activists, charity presidents, media personas, civil rights leaders and so on. Agreeing to attend here, is not a way to protect yourself, or hide yourself away. It is not a solution," Scott states bluntly, "and potentially will place you in harm's way in the effort to help out fellow mutants. Your parents will respect your decision, but the decision is yours to make." And it is a serious one. The young man, barely gradated from college, knows this all too well.


Jen slowly sits down. She should have known. They both hated the Bronx -- and so did Jenny. But it's obvious what's really going on here. They waited until she was gone, and then vacated the premises as soon as humanly possible. "Should've known," she says quietly. A soft snort fogs up the interior of her faceplate for a few moments. "Whatever. Probably a hell of a lot safer than going to school in the Bronx."


"In some ways yes, in other ways no. It's safer on a daily basis, but not safer overall," Scott explains. "In some ways, it is more more dangerous. But you will be better trained and equipped to handle the more dangerous situations. This is an option Ms. Takeda, and one not for everyone. There is a reason this school is closed to applicants," it is by recruitment only. "How many teens are out there with the mentality to be able to risk their lives for others, to combat terrorist, or even stand up against those that wish to hurt them without killing them in pain and rage? The demands of the institute is very high, and it will push you to your limits."


There is a brief pause before Scott adds, "However, if you decide to attend here, I believe the pros far outweigh the cons. You will be pushed to your limits, but you will be stronger for it. You will be prepared to better handle whatever life has to throw at you, and will have more of a connection to the mutant community. Your access to resources to better help other mutants and mutant and human co-existance will also be increased, and the education provided here I believe is top notch. We do encourage the opportunties to attend college as well." Scott isn't trying to talk you out of attending here, rather he is holding a neutral stance on the issue. He wants you to make an educated decision and do what is right for you. You can't seen the concern in his expression likely as he is difficult to read, he likely just looks serious to you.


Jen recognizes what Scott is doing -- laying out the details, the positives and negatives. But what are the options for -her-? Sure, she could go back to New York, back to her parents who, frankly, are entirely likely to be kicked out of their new apartment for having a mutant daughter. They haven't wanted her around for ages, and why should that change now when people attacked her and destroyed an awful lot of her stuff. Jen sighs heavily, looking tired and far older than she really is. "Mr. Summers," she says plainly, "my options are very limited. I can stay here, or I can go home, or I can run away. If I go home, my parents lose their apartment, probably, and they don't want me around anyway -- they haven't in ages. If I run away... well, I'm really not ready for life to suck that much. So my only real option is to stay here. Can I risk my life for others? I don't know. I've never had to try. Can I stand up against people who want to hurt me? I've been trying to do that for weeks, and I think possibly the one time I wasn't snarking somebody over and over lately, the one time I let myself say what I really felt, was that letter to the Bugle. And Jameson was among those trying to hurt me. I want a future. If the only way for me to get that future is to be here, then I'm here."


Scott nods, "The Professor read that letter, many of us did here. And he knows of your actions when you were attacked, and he says you could have killed those men if you wanted. You didn't though. The Professor believes you have heroic potential, the potential to be a shinying light in this world we it so badly needs it. The Professor has never steered me, or others wrong, I have full faith in him," Scott says. He then states bluntly, "That means, I have full faith in you that you can do this, that you can handle it. Do you think you can be happy though, changing the minds of people like Jameson? Fighting a seemingly lost battle, and celebrating each success you manage? I personally find it a lot better than standing on the sidelines. I rather fight for what I believe in and want, rather than watch the world pass me by."


Jen grimaces. "Again," she says, "I don't have a lot of options. I'm gonna be 'that girl in the hazmat suit' wherever I go." She leans back. "Look, I'm in, okay? If you guys will have me, I'm in. That Cessily girl's pretty cool, even -- I don't feel compelled to roll my eyes when she tells me what's on her playlist. So sign me up and tell my parents where to send my stuff so they can get me out of their hair and forget I exist."


A nod comes from Scott once again, "We will accept you Ms. Takeda, I just hope you will accept yourself, hazmat suit and all. Also, try not to give up on your parents. But that's my personal opinion. In time, you may be able to change their minds, and you can have your family again. If you give up though, it's gone forever." There is something in his tone, but it's difficult to place. It isn't judgment, something more haunting. He then moves to slide some paperwork to you, "I've worked on a class schedule for you to review and finish the selection. I already have a feeling on what you would decide. The paperwork for your parents to sign will be forwarded to them." Scott may have known what you would say in the end, but he still wanted you to have a choice. "You can start classes this monday."


Jen's mouth tightens into a line behind her faceplate. She could be snarky girl now, but it's probably not in her best interest, and she is not going to spew off tirades of offense under the circumstances. "Convince my parents not to give up on me," she says, "and maybe there's a chance. Anyway." She pushes the topic aside, taking up the papers and examining them closely. "Pretty much what I was taking at Bronx High, I'd assume," she said before she's had a chance to check out everything.


"I have," Scott says. "And I will again," he adds. He does care. He then drops it as you seem to want to. "There are some additions, such as power training. We are still working out the bugs on managing that, considering the most secure place to do so is also indoors, and working out the ventaliation for that." He is thinking the Danger Room, as he pities the poor grass and wildlife outside. "We will let you know what is decide as soon as we know. Still, discussion of how your power works will be the beginning anyway. Your English class will be with me." Goodie you. "Also, try not to hurt Creek, he usually speaks before he thinks. Angelo takes an extra class for cooking and often shares his works, he's very good. If you see him advertising his goods, make sure you stop by and pick some up. It's worth it. A dorm room will be prepared for you, so you can comfortably take off your hazmat suit." He then reaches into a draw and pulls out a black leather belt that has a black leather case on with a phone. "Here is your cell phone, it has the school's number pre-programmed into it. Do you have any questions or concerns you would like to discuss?" He sets a brochure on the table for you beside your class schedule with the list of 'additional courses'. The brochure has information about the school and a map of it.


"Ventilation of the poison isn't that big a deal," offers Jen. "It's the radiation that's the bigger problem, and given the fact that stronger radiation has a shorter half-life..." She trails off. "I'll leave it to you guys. I'm not sure how effective I can be as a non-lethal combatant anyway. Creek?" Her brow rises. She's met a couple of the other students -- Angelo, Cessily, Jubilee -- but she doesn't have a clue who Creek is. She stretches out to take the cell and tucks it away into one of the pockets and pouches on her suit. "Other questions... I don't suppose you guys have something better than this that I can wear? More... you know... stylish?"


Scott seems at a lost, then, "Let me try and talk to Hank and one of the girls. Hank knows saftey, and the girls know fashion...I think anyway. They always tell me I don't have any fashion sense anyway." He then winces, "But not TJ, she will have you looking like a raver or something." Apparently, he just got terrorized by his own thinking.


Jen nods. "I'm less thinking 'raver' or 'cheerleader' and more thinking 'not wearing a burlap sack'," she explains. "I'm just looking for something less horrible to wear."


"I'll put out the call for emergency aid," Scott says with a hint of humor. "We can see what we can come up with. Perhaps Piotr can paint your suit." He smiles a touch at that. "He's our art instructor." He's also a huge sized Russian, but hey, who says he can't be in touch with his inner artsyness? "Martial Arts is taught by Logan. Let me know if you have any difficulty, and I'll make sure you have a patch kit for marital arts class." This is Logan we are talking about.


First aid kit is probably an even better idea for classes with Logan. But Jen nods in understanding. "Logan being...?" She knows the man as Wolverine, and she doesn't have a clue who this Piotr is. "If I'd need a patch kit, I'm thinking probably the guy with the claws, Wolverine...?"


"Yes, he won't use claws in martial arts training," he better not be, "But things can get rough at times," Scott explains. "Accidents happen. Where martial arts training will be held for you will also be dealt with as soon as I get with Hank about it. He's still dealing with the grumpies." Wait, did Scott just say the grumpies when he is Mr. Grump?


Jen blinks a few times. 'The grumpies' does not fit Jen's understanding of Scott's vocabulary. "I don't think I know this Hank guy, either," she admits. "But... I'm sure I'll get to know you all better as I get used to this place."


Scott shakes his head, "Dr. Hank McCoy a.k.a. Beast, and believe me, he told me fifty million times when it happened that he was voted hottest single male super hero in New York for two years running. And let's not forget his fan club." He actually sounds vaguely amused. "I'll have to tell him that he is getting old, teens don't know who he is anymore already. And it's only been a year."


Jen ohs softly, then nods, looking slightly sheepish. "Yeah, him I've heard of. He... uh... stopped by to say hello a few weeks ago. With this girl, Vanessa. She's going to take me fishing." She smiles wryly. "'Hank' could be anybody, Mr. Summers. Hank Williams, Hank Pym, Hank Aaron..."


"Lots of Hanks, but none an instructor at this school," Scott says, "But point taken. Also, if it makes you feel more comfortable, you may call me Scott. Most teachers here go by their first names other than Professor Xavier, and Logan is just Logan, and Gambit and Rogue don't go by any other name than their codenames. You will get used to it soon enough, I'm sure. Everything fine for now?"


Jen nods her understanding. "Everything's fine," she says. "Fine as it's gonna be, anyway. So... thank you. I'm glad to be here."


"It's a pleasure to have you, and we will work together for a better future. For you, and for the world." Scott smiles a bit, makes sure you have everything and then will return to his work. Such as faxing your parents the legal paperwork to sign, and dealing with a press release.


Jen flashes half a smile behind her mask. "Thanks," she says, and then she rises and heads out of the office, leaving Scott to his work. She's got a lot to get used to.

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