11525/How Can There Be Paperwork

How Can There Be Paperwork
Date of Scene:	21 May 2020
Location:	Classroom - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Shannon comes to Betsy with a situation. It seems that there is a young man needing to be contacted, to confirm his situation. Perhaps even to become a student at Xavier's.
Cast of Characters:	Psylocke, Nightingale

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Psylocke has posed:
Betsy has been teaching at Xavier's for several years now. Initially, she was stuck teaching English. After a learning curve for her, she realized that was more challenging than she had expected. After all, they didn't use English in this country. They used American. Thus, for her, they used incorrect spelling, grammar, and words. She had to learn that 'color' was perfectly acceptable, instead of 'colour'. Don't get her started on 'er' versus 're'.

In time, she had enough and went to Jean, asking to be allowed to teach something else. Anything else. Physical education had been her start but she moved into the more specialized martial arts, which was more an elective than an actual class. She had a small group and parents had to give permission for students to join.

Yet somehow, there was still paperwork. She found an empty classroom, took over the desk and was reading through the essays from students explaining why they wanted to be in her class. From that, she would choose who was wanting to learn for the right reasons. Or just needed it the most. Not for bullies but for self esteem.

Nightingale has posed:
     Among those essays was one from the mansion's resident winged healer in training. It was short but simple, likely to become lost amongst those already on her desk. However, the handwriting was almost like calligraphy in its neatness, a mixture of Versal and bookhand, in the style of perhaps something like the Lindisfairne Gospels--illumination and all.

     But this was not what brought its author to the door of the classroom, tapping softly at the entryway. "Miss Braddock? I'm awfully sorry to be a bother, but may we speak for a moment?" It's Shannon, in her light blue jeans, cream ruffled poet's blouse, and her daisy-toe flip flops. Her hair is long and loose, but for the ice blue braid on the left side of her face, with its three little silver beads. Her brows are furrowed with concern, and her phone is in hand.

Psylocke has posed:
That particularly application has not been reached in the pile. Betsy glances up at the door as Shannon spoke, giving her a brief smile. When she spoke it was with a posh British accent, very at odds with her Japanese appearance.

"No bother at all. It gives me a break from reading," Betsy says with a smile, setting down the paper she had in hand to give her full focus on the visitor. "Who knew there would be so much reading and paperwork when I opted for a class based on physicality." She shakes her head ruefully.

"How may I be of assistance?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon chuckles softly, peering at the pile. "A preview of what is to be in years to come for me, it seems," she remarks, her tone for the moment light and pleasant. However, when she turned about to close the door behind her, that was perhaps the first hint that something was amiss. There is a light sigh from the girl as she composes her thoughts, peering down at her phone.

     Turning back to miss Braddock, she approaches the desk, her brows furrowed lightly. "I've attempted to address this with Mr. Drake, but am not certain anything has, of yet, been done about it. And this has me a bit concerned on a few fronts." Taking a deep breath, she continues on. "Within the past week, miss Pryde and I were out in Salem Center at the coffee shop, and there was an anti-mutant incident. Strictly verbal heckling directed at us, neither of us did anything to further inflame the matter. However, we had assistance from an unexpected front."

     Her voice trails off for a moment, as she thinks how best to put this. "Someone I am certain to a high degree is a technopath interfered on our behalf. Everyone else's tech had treasured images erased from it but ours. I was about an inch away from taking a selfie with one of the hecklers, but a message came through on my phone with no return number attached, advising against it. I heeded the advice and played along."

     As she lets that sink in, she attempts to collect her thoughts. She really was lousy at anything akin to AAR's, or reports such as this. Finding the right words, keeping it brief while conveying all the necessary information, it could be a tricky matter. "Since then, there has been further contact. During the incident at the coffee shop, I did see who appeared to be a young gentleman perhaps close to my own age, hunched over a laptop--and he was not reacting in the slightest to the loss that was affecting everyone else. What's more, he himself became the target of threats of physical harm from his more sportive classmates."

     Now her lips really do set themselves in a thin line. "About a day or so ago, I was answering another message from this person, who has been calling themselves SpyderByte... and my camera was accessed. They got a pretty good shot of Logan. I was formerly concerned about finding this person and making certain of their safety. But now I'm concerned about security as well. Is there anything that can be done to find this person and help them?"

Psylocke has posed:
As Shannon explains, Betsy remains quiet. She gives a nod here or there. A slight 'mmhmm' sound to acknowledge she is paying attention but she does not interrupt. Once all the info has been dumped, she shifts through it rapidly and gives a brief nod.

"So this person...SpyderByte? SpyderByte helped when you were being bullied. You think it might be this young man you saw simply because of his lack of reaction. Then he was bullied as well. Which would explain why he would want to help protect someone else that was happening to." She's working it out as she speaks, repeating pieces to be sure she has the information correct.

"And you've been texting with him some since then? Do you have the texts available? If he is a technopath, he would be able to access everything on your phone. And protentially other phones from there. Which means the entire school could be in danger if he is a threat. Tell me your impression of him from your communications."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon sighs softly, and shakes her head. "I wish I did have them available, it would make this a whole lot easier. They erase themselves after a short time, which is why I was hoping it could be addressed sooner rather than later. Can I be certain that young man was this SpyderByte? Not 100, no. Is the likelihood there? Yes. One, his lack of reaction to the incident, but two, later references to it in recent messages." She frowns slightly, and taps the side of her head. "I'm afraid the only way to get a hint of those messages now is what memory I have of them, unless there's another technopath who can somehow maybe find a trace of whatever's left on my phone."

     Her impressions of the one known as SpyderByte? She thinks for a moment. "They didn't come across as aggressive in their messages. Capability of finding any data necessary was mentioned, including the ability to locate where I am, but also the preference to respect privacy was expressed. I refrained from mentioning the school as anything but 'home', and never mentioned its location."

     Thinking for a moment, she continues. "If anything, there was the sense of them being very cautious, and apt to spook and go to ground easily. They very nearly did so after they asked about Logan, and I quite plainly said he was someone I'd trusted with my life before and would again. It took several attempts sending messages a bit blindly to get SpyderByte to turn up again. Their stated wish? They just want to be treated normally. They called my messages the most normal part of their day." She sighs softly. "I haven't learned enough to judge threats correctly, but offhand, he sounds a lot like a lot of kids who come here."

Psylocke has posed:
"It could be that he is exactly that. A young man who is dealing with his own difficulties and needs something so that he feels okay. Normal. Not a victim." Betsy makes a slight face and sighs. "It can also mean he is an enemy, someone who is very good and coming up with a story and cover and lulling others into a sense of security to achieve his goals. Impossible to know without more information."

She looks away a moment, letting options go through her head then quickly focuses back on Shannon. "Has he given you anything we can follow up on about him other than the name SpyderByte? Location? School he goes to? Anything like that we can build from?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "He did mention Metropolis pretty specifically once, especially in regards to the recent rescue of Superman." She shrugs a little bit, canting her head slightly to one side. "Also, he seemed to have a pretty good grasp of local politics in Salem Center, having specific knowledge that one of the hecklers was the DA's daughter. So two possible areas to narrow it down to."

     She finally sits down in one of the chairs, rubbing her temples lightly. "I want to be a friend to this SpyderByte, but I don't want to see my home and friends here put into unnecessary danger. How can we find that balance? How do we find out what's what?"

Psylocke has posed:
"We research. You can continue to communicate with him, be a friend to him. If he is on the up-and-up, it can only help with is situation." Betsy gives a small smile. "If he is not, it will lull him into a sense of security. Just keep in mind that through your technology, he may have access to everything around you. Perhaps keep clear of our more secure locations for the time being until we can track him down."

She takes a moment and gives a nod. "If you will allow it, may I take a peek at your memory of that day. See if there is anything else I might pick up? I will respect your other thoughts and memories. I just want to see if your subconscious got something your conscious mind did not."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Actually, I was hoping maybe you would, because on my own, I'm at a loss." Shannon pauses, and smiles some, her expression lightening. "So far it's been in non-secure locations. The garage. My dorm. The roof tower once. But nowhere near the lower levels. I'll keep it that way." Well, at least it seems so far she's done /something/ right. Not quite sure what is to happen next, she remains still, and for the most part, relatively calm.

Psylocke has posed:
"You won't feel a thing. I will be brief." Betsy promises. Telepaths of a higher level can never be noticed, if the choose not to. It is helpful with gathering intel for a mission. It also makes people nervous around them often since they don't know how morally fluid the telepath might be in regards to invasion of privacy.

Thanks to their own experiences and teachings, most of the telepaths on staff respect individuals. Betsy is one of those who does.

There is a flare of purple light around her eyes, the 'butterfly' signature of her power use. It isn't always there, since her body swap, but she does try to make sure it is visible as an outward sign to others.

Her trip into Shannon's mind will be brief. A quick replay of the events on that day, specifically in regards to the shop and the goings-on therein.

A moment later, the light fades and she gives a nod. "Thank you. You did pick up a few things. There was a bus outside. George Washington High School. That is our starting point. And as he was exiting, you were focused on what was happening to him so likely missed him being called Statton."

She is already reaching for a nearby computer the pauses, having that second-guess moment. Well, if he can reach Shannon's phone, it really won't make much difference. "I can look for the school. See if there is a class picture and if he matches your memory. I don't want to make it official by having a school ask for his records but if we can narrow it that much, Cerebro may be our next step."

Nightingale has posed:
     "That's the second time I've heard of this... Cerebro," Shannon muses. Really, she hadn't felt a thing as Betsy peeked into her mind, and she smiles. Oh, there were a few memory doors down the corridors of her mind with a very distinct 'do not disturb' sign on each. But there were plenty that were wide open, too--with one particularly well-traveled.

     But that, dear reader, is another story for another time.

     "When I mentioned this whole thing to Mr. Drake, he brought it up. I asked miss Pryde about it, and got the distinct impression that it's something way above my proverbial pay grade. I think she termed it an 'ice cream maker'." There's a twinkle of humor in those glacier blue eyes as Shannon coughs lightly into her hand; is there a 'bullshit' in there somewhere? It's hard to tell. "If it's not something I'm meant to know, I'd rather not. But I have to confess to being curious all the same."

Psylocke has posed:
"Ice cream maker?" That has Betsy grinning despite herself, glancing from the computer over to the young woman. "It is something above your paygrade, so to speak. But it is what it sounds like. Cerebro is a tool telepaths can use here. Only those of use who are well trained. Honestly, I prefer not to be the one at the controls but I am capable of using it. It helps us when we are trying to locate someone, at times. Sending out a net into the entire ocean, no telling if you will find what you are looking for. Find an exact spot where the fish should be? Much easier when you cast the net."

She looks back the screen, reading quickly then pulling up the photos from the school album. "Jeremy Statton. I believe this may be the young man we are looking for." She points to the image for Shannon to take a look.

Nightingale has posed:
     The shock of recognition on Shannon's face is unmistakable, as she gets up to move around to where she can see the photo on miss Braddock's computer. "Yes. That's him, confirmed." There wasn't a hint of doubt in her voice. Briefly, she reaches out to touch the picture. "I know that expression too well... I wore it a lot before coming here." She sighs lightly, shaking her head and stepping back. There was a hint of mist in her eyes. "The hardest part will be keeping my mouth shut about this, if he reaches out again."

Psylocke has posed:
"Well, if he is someone that is trying to get at us for nefarious reasons, he's done a very good job of it. There are pictures of him for different yearbooks. So he likely is on the up-and-up. A young man in need." Betsy glances over at Shannon, noting the tears.

Betsy is not like Jean, not having those same sorts of instincts. She isn't a touchy-feely person. At least not anymore. She had been before the bodyswap but her mind is no longer just Betsy Braddock and she finds herself less comfortable with such things now.

"Hopefully we will have reached out to him before he does. Keep Cerebro a secret. I shouldn't have mentioned it in front of you. But I will see if Jean or the Professor are available now. If they are not, I'll do it myself. See if I can track him down and go pay him a visit. If he is being bullied like that all the time, he needs a to be in a school like this. Or at least a different one from where he is attending."

Nightingale has posed:
     "I'm sorry, what was that about Cerebro? I've never heard of it, have you?" A wan, if somewhat wry smile, curls the corners of Shannon's mouth upwards, and she dips her head slightly. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. "I wasn't physically bullied like he was threatened with, thank God. But for the two years before I came here, there was the isolation, despite the love and support of my family. It's not something I'd wish on anyone else."

     Glancing back towards the classroom door, she tries to smile a little bit more. "Thank you for helping with this, miss Braddock. I wasn't quite sure what to do." As she heads towards the door, she pauses for a moment. "Maybe tea one of these days? I can bake a pretty mean blueberry scone to go with it."

Psylocke has posed:
"Certainly. And I will keep you informed on what happens with Mr. Statton. If you don't hear about it first," Betsy adds. She taps a few more keys, shuts down the computer. Then the papers are all put into a manilla folder and she rises to her feet, heading for the classroom door herself.

"We'll try to get him somewhere safe. It all depends on his choices and those of his family, of course."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon nods slowly. "I don't recall him mentioning his family, so your guess is as good as mine there." She opens the door for miss Braddock, and smiles a little bit. "I won't lie. I hope that means him coming here. Where I'd be if it weren't for this place, who knows. But it is ultimately his choice, and his family's... if there is any involved. But the sooner the chance is offered to him, the better." As the two ladies make their way out of the room, there is a soft, but heartfelt, "Thank you," from the healer in training, as she goes about her day.

     But what would the rest of that day bring? Who knows.