The polaroid wall in Kitty's room had proved crucial for her piecing together a narrative about this place and its inhabitants. Most heavily featured was a red-haired girl who isn't here, the neighbor boy, the blue boy, some other guy who turned into ice a lot, and down from there. Patterns she's noticed include she's only ever taken unflattering pictures of the snotty blonde (much older in most of these,) and the other blonde girl has only a scant few pictures on the wall, all looking a lot newer than many of the others. There's an outlier, though, and she sees him now in the kitchen, probably trying to find breakfast like a normal person.
But Kitty had been up almost all night trying to piece together this interpersonal puzzle, so she's in no mood to slow down for anyone. She stands in front of the fridge (unnecessary) and confronts the tall blond boy in front of her. "You're not in any of my pictures."
Piotr is, in fact, trying to get some breakfast (is he allowed to do this? He thinks so. He lives here, apparently? There's so much food in this house, anyways) when Kitty suddenly appears in front of him, just as he's about to peek in the fridge. Though surprised, he doesn't look particularly startled as he looks down at her. He does, however, tilt his head ever so slightly at her deeply confusing question. Is she angry at him?
Says Kitty, matter-of-fact, like this will clear this whole thing up. Since she really isn't angry at him, though, she steps away from the food and starts pacing the length of the kitchen instead. This boy just became someone to rant to.
"I have this wall in my room full of polaroids. Almost everyone is in them. I take the most pictures of those closest to me. Some people are just in group shots, and they're the ones who I find annoying here, already. But you're not in any of them, so you're an anomaly." Kitty pauses next time she's near him, staring like perhaps the reason for this is written on him along with these weird marks. "What do you remember about your life here?"
"Oh," Piotr replies at her initial comment, capable of tracing her logic even before she starts ranting. Even though she's acting like he should already be aware of the pictures in her room. As Kitty gives him access to the fridge he hesitantly goes to open it. So much food. He pulls out some eggs, glancing over his shoulder at the girl who is now pacing.
He still is a little addled by all this, but he's trying his best to listen seriously to everything she has to say.
"...nothing. I am... confused about this place. I am certain I live here, though. My sister is here." He frowns, very slightly. "Maybe you do not like me."
Kitty comes to a stop, considering that. She isn't the most friendly person on earth, admittedly. But completely shunning exactly one person while making sure everyone else is at least a little documented and accounted for doesn't seem like her at all. She hopes not, anyway.
"Why wouldn't I like you?" She questions, which is rude. "What are you like?"
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-08-11 01:35 am (UTC)
Initially, Emma had found it strange that she was subconsciously reading the boy with the sunglasses' thoughts with a regular frequency that she didn't afford the others in the house. Not that she isn't constantly 'listening' with her newfound power, of course, but when her mind wanders she finds herself picking up his thoughts more often than not. A photo of them in her room and a little bit of snooping had told her why, and now she can't stop herself from being terribly curious about him. She's not sure she agrees with her adult self's choices, but ultimately it all feels like a strange anthropological study to her that she needs to examine.
Alerted to Scott's intention to head to the kitchen for a break thanks to her mental eavesdropping, Emma makes her way there so that she's sitting at the counter by the time he arrives. She's looking in his mind to see if he's had the same realization about their relationship that she has when he enters.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-08-11 02:06 am (UTC)
Scott freezes at the sound of her voice. He hasn't been avoiding Emma, exactly, but it seemed easier not to hang out in the same rooms when he doesn't know what to say to her. Thank you for saving me would be normal, except that she has no idea that she did that (will do that?). I think our adult selves are dating would not be normal, and doesn't need to be discussed, ever.
"Hey... Emma," Scott says after too long a pause, like he isn't perfectly aware that her name is Emma Grace Frost, from a notepad in his desk that listed facts like her birthday, her ring size, and what flowers she likes best (roses, hyacinths, peonies).
He avoids looking at her as he heads straight for the cupboards in search of food.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-08-11 03:21 am (UTC)
Adult Scott is either obsessed with her or neurotic, or maybe both. Her money is on both, but it doesn't really matter either way, she supposes. His notes on her and her preferences are interesting. As are this Scott's thoughts — she can't really blame him for being a bit nervous to be around her.
Placing her chin in her hand, she watches him closely as he moves about the kitchen, pondering.
"Saving you?" Despite asking, Emma is already searching for the answer in his brain. This timeline business is very confusing and messy.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-08-11 05:00 am (UTC)
Scott's shoulders stiffen. He knew that White Queen was a telepath, but he hates how casually she responds to his private thoughts. If she can read his mind, then she'd know that he didn't want to talk about it.
"Get out of my head." He grabs a box of Raisin Bran and plunks it on the counter.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-08-11 12:14 pm (UTC)
"I'm in your head a lot, apparently."
This is said without intent to prod or rankle, and the tone of Emma's voice, curious and thoughtful, conveys this.
"You don't seem to mind it, when you're grown up. Otherwise I doubt we'd be dating."
This is meant to prod a bit. She sinks forward on the counter, her arms now laid flat on the cool stone with her head resting on them. Her mind doesn't retreat from his at all as she continues to watch him, trying to draw up memories in herself that she knows are inaccessible. He's still just ultimately a stranger, a scrawny boy with a head full of uncertainties and a few memories of her in the future in the past.
Emma frowns, but doesn't say anything else for the moment.
Remy's gone, which leaves Rogue puttering about the mansion all on her own, trying to squash her own urge to just run away, too. Feels real tempting right about now. The future seems final and daunting, closing in with a thousand factors she didn't choose. Separate beds from the man who's supposedly her husband and a drawer full of gloves means that the only part of her life she'd truly, truly hoped would get better hasn't. The suffocation of that demands that she bolt. On impulse, Rogue stuffs some clothes and gloves in a backpack and takes off toward the door. She can't stay here. Surely, if she leaves now, she can fix this. Sure, it might create a little temporal issue, but those resolve. Maybe she can act in the future, change the past, get one more try. A half-baked plan at best, sure, but aren't all of her best ones?
Someone familiar stops her at the entryway. Rogue's not responsible for Laura right now, but something in her makes her feet slow and then stop, knowing that she'd be unkind to ignore her and just leave. "Hey." She greets instead, trying to ascertain whether Laura looks tired from all her new duties, and how much one runaway will add to that stress. Which, she reminds herself, is stupid. Laura is a full adult. They don't even know each other yet. Still. "You doin' ok?"
wildlikelaura kinney (wolverine)Date: 2025-08-11 04:10 am (UTC)
Laura doesn't tire easily, not with her healing factor, but she's unused to having to worry about so many people getting enough food or running off or stabbing each other. She's supposed to be the one at risk of running off or stabbing people. Things can't get back to normal soon enough.
Still, she owes it to Rogue and Gambit to at least try to be responsible, which is why she's standing by the exit when her teenaged leader tries to slip off with nothing but a backpack full of clothes.
"No," Laura answers honestly. "Do you remember why you first came here?"
Rogue gets the immediate and sinking sensation that she will probably not just be allowed to leave here. She balances from foot to foot, restless and shifty, playing with the strap of her backpack. Maybe if she plays it cool and just smiles, she can say she's just going for a walk, or something. She settles and tries to do that. It's got her out of a lot of sticky situations, that grin.
"I remember wakin' up on a plane garage floor with a lot of other confused kids." She reminds Laura, trying to be disarming and casual about the whole thing.
wildlikelaura kinney (wolverine)Date: 2025-08-12 12:50 am (UTC)
So, she doesn't remember. Not surprising, but Laura feels sad about it anyway. She was already a bit of an outsider for joining so late, and now she's a complete stranger to all of them, except for Xavier and Manuel, who aren't exactly friends.
It would be presumptuous to explain Rogue's motivations to her, so Laura says, "I came to this place because of you. And Remy. Before the X-Men, I was alone."
This gives Rogue some pause. She isn't sure why this place would take her, let alone let her in with someone else. Two other people.
"You happier now, or is it worse?" She asks, cautious. Because she does remember, very vividly, the equal desperation and joy of being alone. Scary and safer, both. It'd been scary when she was very small, in the swamp, but the wrong people found her. When she finally got the nerve to leave them, she found Remy. Maybe he was a wrong choice, too. Maybe it would be good to be alone.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-08-12 12:34 am (UTC)
His dad spent the past hour enumerating the dazzling delights of the Phimerence Gameworld, which Scott understands is basically Space Las Vegas staffed by sentient plant forms connected by the same root network, allowing them to watch everything from every angle to prevent cheating. He's never been to Las Vegas or space, so it's interesting enough on that basis, but he doesn't see the appeal in gambling. Or vaults full of riches or one-of-a-kind treasures, both of which feature a lot in Corsair's stories.
There's something that his dad isn't telling him, despite talking so long and so enthusiastically about the things he's seen beyond the edges of their galaxy. There's a question that bothers Scott more and more with every passing hour, but he can't bring himself to ask it, especially not while they have company. But he likes that Illyana is here, even if she punched him. She wasn't in any of the pictures in his room or on the walls of the mansion, but she feels important to him.
As Corsair leaves to check something on the exterior of the ship, Scott watches Illyana, wondering who she is. "Hey. Why did you hit me?"
Illyana is a gracious audience to Corsair's ridiculous tales of space casinos and his misadventures in them. She watches wide-eyed, laughs at the right times, and doesn't press him on the more implausible details which disagree with one another. She understands the artistic merit of storytelling, even if she doesn't trust that he's a reliable narrator. When he leaves to check on the other side of the ship, she falls silent, avoiding eye contact with Scott until he speaks first.
It's a fair question, but she isn't sure what to say. She fiddles with some of sort of adjustable alien spanner wrench that Corsair has given her to hold as she contemplates her answer.
"The place I came here from was not a safe one," she decides on eventually. "And my captor is very fond of playing tricks on me."
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-08-12 04:01 am (UTC)
The sun has set, and the constant noise of people moving about the mansion is starting to dull—or so Scott hopes, but it's hard to tell when it feels like someone shoved a live grenade into his brain. He used to just pass out when his headaches got this bad, but that hasn't happened since he unleashed his first optic blast and ran away. Instead, it just hurts, a throbbing pressure behind his eyes that goes on and on and on, and Scott's learned that the only thing he can do is wait it out.
He huddled in a sitting room, wedged between a settee and a coffee table. It would be preferable to hunker down in the privacy of his room, but he doesn't trust himself to make it back without falling over—or worse, attracting attention. He doesn't want anyone to see him. He doesn't want these people to know how broken he is. (He's scared they'll tell his dad.)
Scott hears what might be footsteps outside, and buries his head into his knees. His glasses sit on the rug next to him.
empataManuel de la Rocha (Empath)Date: 2025-08-12 07:29 pm (UTC)
Manuel has been keeping his empathic sense focused on his young teammates since yesterday, so when Scott's merciless headache surfaces, he notices immediately. Not because he can feel the physical pain but because he recognizes the young man's reaction to it; the sharp dismay as he realizes what's happening, the bitter resignation as he endures an all too familiar agony, and the fear that he'll be discovered. He doesn't fully understand the fear. Scott isn't like him, so bound up in his own pride that the idea of being caught in a state of vulnerability makes him want to crawl out of his skin, but...he doesn't want to be seen like this all the same.
This knowledge gives him some pause, but in the end he still goes to Scott. Because he needs someone. From what he remembers, the migraines had been debilitating and, unlike his own, had never been soothed by anything as mundane as pills. But the Professor had done something and his memories seem to be intact; the solution seems obvious.
The nearby footsteps get closer and it isn't long before he's kneeling down in front of Scott, his tone even as he announces his presence and carefully touches the discarded sunglasses against one of the boy's hands in offering.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-08-13 01:56 am (UTC)
Scott's shoulders hunch when someone else enters the room, then relax at the sound of Empath's voice. "Oh. It's you." He can't explain this instinctive trust. He's always hated people seeing him like this, friends and strangers alike. But Empath was there, when the X-Men stopped Jack. He did something when Scott was fighting them. Made him less scared, made it easier to think.
"I'm fine," he says, eyes still squeezed shut in pain. It's probably stupid to lie to Empath—Manuel, his name is Manuel—but it's not really a lie. He will be fine, eventually. Scott takes the glasses and puts them on, in the vain hope that having half of his face covered will make him look normal to Manuel.
empataManuel de la Rocha (Empath)Date: 2025-08-13 03:56 am (UTC)
It's a strange sensation, perhaps a surprise, to feel Scott relax at the sound of his voice and Manuel watches the boy as he slips on his glasses and attempts to compose himself. They both know he's lying but he doesn't see a point in pressing the matter.
Instead, he gives a small nod of acknowledgment.
"You can endure. I do not doubt that. But...I can take the edge off and we can go see the Professor together," he suggests, his tone calm and deliberate so nothing gets lost in the pulsing pain of the young mutant's headache, "He helped you with this problem before. So it is worth a shot, no?"
The Professor. Scott's instinctive trust in Manuel is eclipsed by what he feels now, thinking about Charles Xavier. Scott is too consumed by his migraine to understand the emotion, especially as he was a bit scared of the mind-reader when he was fifteen. It's not simply trust, or even love—it's an unshakeable faith that someone will have the answers for him, and know what's right.
He just doesn't know if he can walk right now. Scott holds himself very stiffly, trying to look like he has things under control. "Take the edge off...?"
Remy is more familiar with hotwiring a Toyota Corolla than he is boosting a car that looks like it's worth more than some homes, but between him and Emma they're able to get the convertible running with little issue. Nobody's even stopped in to the garage to check on them, so it looks like they'll be able to make a clean break.
"You know how to drive, bijou?" he thinks to ask only after she's taken the driver's seat and he's in the passenger seat.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-08-12 10:54 pm (UTC)
Without even really thinking about it, Emma is adjusting the seat and mirrors, given how much shorter she is now, before she glances over to Remy.
"Of course."
In reality she's never driven before, particularly not a manual transmission, but she's been in enough nice cars that she thinks it'll be fine. Plus, the way that she moves so naturally to push in the clutch and put the car into reverse makes her feel like, maybe, she's got a little bit of her adult knowledge hanging out in the back of her mind.
"Plus, I'm pretty sure this is mine. If I mess up the transmission I can't be mad."
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DAY 2 - SUNDAY
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
But Kitty had been up almost all night trying to piece together this interpersonal puzzle, so she's in no mood to slow down for anyone. She stands in front of the fridge (unnecessary) and confronts the tall blond boy in front of her. "You're not in any of my pictures."
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
"...what?"
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
Says Kitty, matter-of-fact, like this will clear this whole thing up. Since she really isn't angry at him, though, she steps away from the food and starts pacing the length of the kitchen instead. This boy just became someone to rant to.
"I have this wall in my room full of polaroids. Almost everyone is in them. I take the most pictures of those closest to me. Some people are just in group shots, and they're the ones who I find annoying here, already. But you're not in any of them, so you're an anomaly." Kitty pauses next time she's near him, staring like perhaps the reason for this is written on him along with these weird marks. "What do you remember about your life here?"
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
He still is a little addled by all this, but he's trying his best to listen seriously to everything she has to say.
"...nothing. I am... confused about this place. I am certain I live here, though. My sister is here." He frowns, very slightly. "Maybe you do not like me."
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
"Why wouldn't I like you?" She questions, which is rude. "What are you like?"
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2 : Kitty & Piotr
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
Alerted to Scott's intention to head to the kitchen for a break thanks to her mental eavesdropping, Emma makes her way there so that she's sitting at the counter by the time he arrives. She's looking in his mind to see if he's had the same realization about their relationship that she has when he enters.
"Hey Scott."
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
"Hey... Emma," Scott says after too long a pause, like he isn't perfectly aware that her name is Emma Grace Frost, from a notepad in his desk that listed facts like her birthday, her ring size, and what flowers she likes best (roses, hyacinths, peonies).
He avoids looking at her as he heads straight for the cupboards in search of food.
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
Placing her chin in her hand, she watches him closely as he moves about the kitchen, pondering.
"Saving you?" Despite asking, Emma is already searching for the answer in his brain. This timeline business is very confusing and messy.
"And I was wondering if you'd figured it out."
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
"Get out of my head." He grabs a box of Raisin Bran and plunks it on the counter.
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
This is said without intent to prod or rankle, and the tone of Emma's voice, curious and thoughtful, conveys this.
"You don't seem to mind it, when you're grown up. Otherwise I doubt we'd be dating."
This is meant to prod a bit. She sinks forward on the counter, her arms now laid flat on the cool stone with her head resting on them. Her mind doesn't retreat from his at all as she continues to watch him, trying to draw up memories in herself that she knows are inaccessible. He's still just ultimately a stranger, a scrawny boy with a head full of uncertainties and a few memories of her in the future in the past.
Emma frowns, but doesn't say anything else for the moment.
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Scott & Emma
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
Someone familiar stops her at the entryway. Rogue's not responsible for Laura right now, but something in her makes her feet slow and then stop, knowing that she'd be unkind to ignore her and just leave. "Hey." She greets instead, trying to ascertain whether Laura looks tired from all her new duties, and how much one runaway will add to that stress. Which, she reminds herself, is stupid. Laura is a full adult. They don't even know each other yet. Still. "You doin' ok?"
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
Still, she owes it to Rogue and Gambit to at least try to be responsible, which is why she's standing by the exit when her teenaged leader tries to slip off with nothing but a backpack full of clothes.
"No," Laura answers honestly. "Do you remember why you first came here?"
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
"I remember wakin' up on a plane garage floor with a lot of other confused kids." She reminds Laura, trying to be disarming and casual about the whole thing.
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
It would be presumptuous to explain Rogue's motivations to her, so Laura says, "I came to this place because of you. And Remy. Before the X-Men, I was alone."
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
"You happier now, or is it worse?" She asks, cautious. Because she does remember, very vividly, the equal desperation and joy of being alone. Scary and safer, both. It'd been scary when she was very small, in the swamp, but the wrong people found her. When she finally got the nerve to leave them, she found Remy. Maybe he was a wrong choice, too. Maybe it would be good to be alone.
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
DAY 2: Laura & Rogue
DAY 2: Scott & Illyana
There's something that his dad isn't telling him, despite talking so long and so enthusiastically about the things he's seen beyond the edges of their galaxy. There's a question that bothers Scott more and more with every passing hour, but he can't bring himself to ask it, especially not while they have company. But he likes that Illyana is here, even if she punched him. She wasn't in any of the pictures in his room or on the walls of the mansion, but she feels important to him.
As Corsair leaves to check something on the exterior of the ship, Scott watches Illyana, wondering who she is. "Hey. Why did you hit me?"
DAY 2: Scott & Illyana
It's a fair question, but she isn't sure what to say. She fiddles with some of sort of adjustable alien spanner wrench that Corsair has given her to hold as she contemplates her answer.
"The place I came here from was not a safe one," she decides on eventually. "And my captor is very fond of playing tricks on me."
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
He huddled in a sitting room, wedged between a settee and a coffee table. It would be preferable to hunker down in the privacy of his room, but he doesn't trust himself to make it back without falling over—or worse, attracting attention. He doesn't want anyone to see him. He doesn't want these people to know how broken he is. (He's scared they'll tell his dad.)
Scott hears what might be footsteps outside, and buries his head into his knees. His glasses sit on the rug next to him.
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
This knowledge gives him some pause, but in the end he still goes to Scott. Because he needs someone. From what he remembers, the migraines had been debilitating and, unlike his own, had never been soothed by anything as mundane as pills. But the Professor had done something and his memories seem to be intact; the solution seems obvious.
The nearby footsteps get closer and it isn't long before he's kneeling down in front of Scott, his tone even as he announces his presence and carefully touches the discarded sunglasses against one of the boy's hands in offering.
"It seems like you need some help, mi amigo."
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
"I'm fine," he says, eyes still squeezed shut in pain. It's probably stupid to lie to Empath—Manuel, his name is Manuel—but it's not really a lie. He will be fine, eventually. Scott takes the glasses and puts them on, in the vain hope that having half of his face covered will make him look normal to Manuel.
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
Instead, he gives a small nod of acknowledgment.
"You can endure. I do not doubt that. But...I can take the edge off and we can go see the Professor together," he suggests, his tone calm and deliberate so nothing gets lost in the pulsing pain of the young mutant's headache, "He helped you with this problem before. So it is worth a shot, no?"
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
He just doesn't know if he can walk right now. Scott holds himself very stiffly, trying to look like he has things under control. "Take the edge off...?"
DAY 2: Scott & Manuel
DAY 2: Remy & Emma steal a car
"You know how to drive, bijou?" he thinks to ask only after she's taken the driver's seat and he's in the passenger seat.
DAY 2: Remy & Emma steal a car
"Of course."
In reality she's never driven before, particularly not a manual transmission, but she's been in enough nice cars that she thinks it'll be fine. Plus, the way that she moves so naturally to push in the clutch and put the car into reverse makes her feel like, maybe, she's got a little bit of her adult knowledge hanging out in the back of her mind.
"Plus, I'm pretty sure this is mine. If I mess up the transmission I can't be mad."