12048/Scott learns a fairy tale lesson

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Scott learns a fairy tale lesson
Date of Scene: 21 August 2020
Location: Cafe - Greenwich Village
Synopsis: Scott meets The Straw Man and gets under that thick skin of his. Cracks of doubt are forming below the surface.
Cast of Characters: Cyclops, Straw Man, Phoenix




Cyclops has posed:
It's an early morning and Scott is checked in for his usual coffee and everything bagel. He's settled at a table with a newspaper in front of him and his phone at his side. He sips at his coffee, flipping a page in the paper as he read through the local events and scanning for anything interesting that may catch his eyes. Some of the kids was involved in a bank robbery foiling the other day and it barely made a blip, much to his relief. The last thing anyone needs is more mutant hysteria over large bears and angel winged girls running about the streets of New York.

With a glance at his phone as it beeps, he reaches over to swipe the glass and then respond to the text that Jean sent him. A smile touches his lips for a brief moment before it melts back into his stoic state. He straightens his back once more, then plucks up his bagel for a nip.

Straw Man has posed:
    "It's good that they didn't cause a stir. So noble, the anonymous child heroes, fighting crime and looking to be just like their teachers. It's enough to make one just giddy with pride, isn't it?" The voice belongs to an older man, bald on top of his head with scraggly white frizz of hair along his ears and the back of his skull. An impressive and well groomed beard, bushy and full, protrudes from his chin, and sitting there in a charcoal suit, he takes a sip of his coffee, looking at nothing in particular, his legs crossed in a gentlemanly fashion.

Cyclops has posed:
Tilting his head upwards at the voice, Scott looks at the older man for a moment, brows furrowing. "Excuse me?" He says as he picks up his mug of coffee again, taking a sip. Where did this guy come from out of the blue? "Do I know you?" He says as he shifts his phone to him a bit closer, then tucks it into his pocket.

Straw Man has posed:
    "Oh I'm sure you might," the older man says with a rather disarming smile. He reaches across his body, a thin hand extended to shake, as if a business introduction was being made. "Jacqueline. They all tell me it's a woman's name, I know." He gives a slight, self-depreciating laugh. "Jacque, if you like. That's me."

Cyclops has posed:
"I see." Scott says as he glances down towards the hand, then back towards the man as he raises his cup of coffee for another sip. He doesn't extend his hand forward as his senses are screaming on full alert. "Well, Jacqueline, can I help you?" Though his eyes may be hidden behind the ruby quartz glasses, he is staring directly into the eyes of the other man as he leans forward just a tick. "How is it that I may know you?"

Straw Man has posed:
    "Ahh, yes yes," he says, "Ever the no-nonsense bulwark," Jacque compliments. "Probably why they look to you for leadership, even if they are constantly second-guessing you. It's no fun having to be the serious one all the time, but if you don't do it, then who will?" He retracts his hand, seeming completely unoffended. He places his own mug on the table, and folds his hands over his knee. "Very kind of you to offer help, yes kind indeed," he says. "But if you're looking for me to have a need from you, you'll be dissapointed. No, I just thought you'd like a good compliment. We all need to know we are doing well from time to time. Even people who aren't doing well need that, wouldn't you agree?" No word regarding how he might know the ruby-lensed leader.

Cyclops has posed:
Whatever is going on inside the head of Scott Summers is always a mystery, as the outside version of him in an unemotional brickwall. He takes another long sip of his coffee, then places it down neatly next to his newspaper. He folds it up slowly, each movement measured and calculated. "Yes, I would agree. Thank you for the compliment." He says as he gives a lick of his lips. "How is it that you have come into this information if I may ask? You are making quite a few assumptions but I have never seen you before."

Straw Man has posed:
    "I only have information that I've been told," comes the answer of Jacque. "Don't be alarmed, you are the one who gave it. I realize my first appearance can be somewhat alarming, particularly when I come equipped with rather internal information, but there's no need to fret, not for you, at least. You're already quite well acquainted with people who can have all the information about you they wish. Most people would be afraid to associate with someone like that, yet you keep a good supply of them on hand already."

Cyclops has posed:
"I see." Scott repeats again as he takes a plastic knife to his bagel, slicing it open so that he can apply a bit of butter to it while it's still warm. "So you're a telepath and you're pulling information out of my mind." He tilts his head upwards to stare at him.

<< Maybe this would be easier to communicate then for you. Don't mind the safeguards I just threw up. You'll find they are tough to crack. As I'm sure you've gleaned, I am surrounded by the best of the best after all. Now, what do I owe this pleasure to? What is your ulterior motive in contacting me? >>

Straw Man has posed:
    "Not quite. I find the mind to be a rather fickle part of a person," Jacque answers. He takes another sip of his coffee. "Let me ask you, if you could separate yourself into three parts: one part body, one part mind, and one part soul, which do you think would be the second strongest of that? I should think it would be the mind, wouldn't you? That little pig lives in a house of sticks. Not as feeble as the straw house of the body, but hardly a sturdy house of bricks, either. Events, trauma, attacks, they can all affect the mind, not too dissimilar from the body should it be struck by a fist or a bullet. You needn't a telepath to destroy a person's mind, and even powerful telepaths are vulnerable. Sure, they can fend off attacks of other psychics, but they are no more impregnable than your average joe on the street in regards to day to day life."

    "No, not a telepath. I am more interested in that little pig that lives in the house of bricks. The wise little pig who knew how to keep out the wolf." He doesn't speak straight to the mind, but does respond to the thought. "Ulterior motive has such a negative connotation, don't you think? It suggests some form of contention or subversion." He taps his nose thoughtfully. "Instead, think of me as one who is cooperative. I'm your own personal guide. I only seek to help people accomplish what they really want."

Cyclops has posed:
<< You're not a telepath but you can clearly read and hear my thoughts. Therefore, your power is at least psychic in nature. I believe everyone has an ulterior motive. You picked me out for a reason and a purpose, which is most likely to glean information from me. Information that can be used against me in the future, or even the immediate right now. I do not believe in cooprative old men showing up out of thin air at my table and trying to give me assurances they are not a bad guy. >>

Scott continues to eat in silence, though his eyes never once leave the other man. He also refrains from speaking outloud. A strategy. No one near them in the cafe has to hear this conversation. Keep your psychic walls up, your senses sharp. There is a call to Jean through their psychic bond. A request for 'backup' so to speak.

<< Phoenix, can you scan my mind and let me know if there is something else in there besides my own thoughts? >>

He takes another sip of his drink, placing it down as it's empty. He lifts a hand to flag a waiter down for a refill. He gives another look back towards 'Jaque' at his table. "What is it that you think I really want?"

Phoenix has posed:
On a normal basis, Jean's presence in Scott's mind is a quiet current, like a stream between two bodies of water with a peaceful, calm white noise. Active thoughts send out ripples that push and pull the current. So invoked, the ripples of Scott't question shudder as they come up against a returning and powerful turbulence. It's the movement of something massive under that stream, and the ripples it casts out reach far and churn the water in their wake. The presence of Jean is wordless but present, spreading out through the familiar roadmap of Scott's mind on the hunt for anything that doesn't belong like a surge of white cells in the blood.

Straw Man has posed:
    Psychic presences seem absent. Nothing but Scott's mind is there right now. "See, this is what we call assumptive. Some call it a human trait, but let's be honest. It's just a sentient trait. The older someone gets, the more they have created those mental categories for life. What is, what is not. What can be, what cannot be."
    He uncrosses his legs, and turns to face Scott, placing both hands flat on the table and leaning in. "So even if you have someone who comes to help you, to benefit you, there comes the air of defense. You close the door to the stick house, believing that will protect you from the big bad wolf on the outside. You lock it tight, relying on those assumptions and learned responses as your security against the invasion. Never thinking for one moment that the wolf might already be in the house, that your defense, as well designed as it is, serves not keep you safe, but to prevent your own escape." He picks up the coffee. "Well, isn't that something?"

Cyclops has posed:
Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Scott betrays no express of emotion on his face as he stares at the other man.

<< Jean? Do you recognize this man in front of me? >>

As the waiter comes to deliver him a coffee, he says a thank you, then glances over towards Jaque once more. "Do you want something to drink?" He asks in a polite tone. "Seeing how we are having this indepth conversation about children's fairy tales, I suppose the least I can do is treat you to breakfast. So, tell me more about this wolf that is supposedly locked away. Are you trying to assume that there is evil that exists in all of us?"

Phoenix has posed:
Jean searches, she looks, but the response that comes from her is likely not what he expects. <<Scott, there's... no one there. >> Her answering thought doesn't leave the impression like she outright disbelieves him, but there's concern and uncertainty in the psychic impression of her voice. It's the rare sort who can shield themselves from her, and it taints her mental impression with a discomforted haze.

He'd feel a slight strain behind his eyes, a reflection of her looking out and past the man that's reportedly there, as if she missed just where in front of him this man was supposed to be. << I don't know who you're talking to. >>

Straw Man has posed:
    "In all of us," echoes Jacque. "An interesting phrase. It allows the conversation to stay at arm's length, doesn't it? But you see, I don't deal with "all of us". This is about what -you- want." He points with his free hand. "And thank you for the offer, but that won't be necessary. He doesn't seem to give any impression that he's aware of the conversation with Jean at all. "See," he takes another sip of his coffee, "I do find the tale of the three pigs interesting. Fascinating even. We assume that victory belongs to us, the victors, the innocent pigs who have fended off the terrible wolf. But what if it is all just a ruse? See, I do believe there were three houses. And I do believe there was a great wind. A storm even. I believe there was a great fall of a house. And I believe there was a wolf. But a wolf doesn't come down a chimney, wind comes down a chimney, and you can't very well boil wind in a pot of water. It makes me wonder about this tale. Who is telling the story? What if someone came in after the storm and terror, and made the story a little silly. Make it something we won't take too seriously. A story we can tell our children at bedtime, then tell them at the end, 'Don't worry, it's ONLY a story."

    A sad smile crosses his face. "Who lives in the house of bricks, Scott? Past what your telepathic friends can see. Past what the children see. You asked what I believe you want, and that is not the question. What you want is irrelevant. The question is WHY you want it. And you don't need me to answer that for you, do you?"

Cyclops has posed:
<< Jean, I am looking a man in his sixties. Balding. Beard. He's talking to me about the three little pigs. You can't see him? You can't hear him? >>

Scott rubs at the light stubble along his face as he eases back into his chair. "By all means, go ahead and answer it. The floor is all yours. What is it that you think I want, besides to enjoy my breakfast in peace."

There is a small twitch of the corners of his lips for a brief instant. A flash of humor, dry as it is. Much like a bone. He's never been good at comedy.

"Who are you really?"

Phoenix has posed:
There's pause before Jean answers, the current between their minds stilled for one infinitesimal moment. She's at a loss and that silent is deafening.

<< Nothing. >> Is her response. << There's no one there. >>

<< Maybe I should come meet you. >> She proposes, and there's the sense of her reflexive need to protect. The school? Him? And just what is she protecting either from, if no one is there?

Straw Man has posed:
    Jacque leans in, a twinkle in his eye. "You may want peace," he says, "Maybe a little. But there's something you want a lot more than that. You want to win. To protect? To be justified? Maybe a little of both. Maybe a few more motivations that can be sprinkled in for flavor. You could surrender, you could take the back seat. Heaven knows there are those who have greater power than you who could lead. It'd be easier, wouldn't it? But not you. No, you would feel you had failed, been defeated."
    He leans back into his seat again. "I'll let you chew on that a little while," he says with a thoughtful glance upward. "Maybe we can talk some more later, when you decide whether that is what you WANT to want, or if you want to want something else."

Cyclops has posed:
<< I am at the cafe. >>

As Scott listens to him speak, he folds his hands in front of him like a steeple. There appears to be a lot of truth to those words, and that bothers him that someone has cut him so deep to find the things that he even hides from Jean. There is of course those nuances of being a leader. The doubts that come with decisions that are not favorable. The constant push and shove that he has with Logan when he undermines him in front of the team. The flimsy grasp that he has on the most beautiful girl in the world to him, Knowing, that she deserves better than him, and that one day she very well may take a ride on the trainwreck that is the Wolverine express.

His jaw shifts some as he picks up his phone to tuck it into his pocket. He takes in a slow, deep breath, then lets it out past his thinned, tight lips. A flare of the nostrils. "Perhaps." He says to him as he rises up from his seat, brushing a few crumbs of bagel from his neatly pressed button down shirt. "It was interesting .. to say the least."

Phoenix has posed:
<< I'll be there soon. Stay there.>>

And Jean goes quiet in his mind, leaving Scott alone with his thoughts which seem to be sitting even heavier than normal.

Straw Man has posed:
    The strange man nods. "Of course," he says, "And before we meet again -we will meet again- consider whether it's all right to lose. Don't answer too quickly, because the implications of yes and of no are of critical significance." He rises as well, taking a hat that was previously hidden from the back of his chair. A white wide brim fedora with a charcoal band against the charcoal suit, he straightens his tie, and turns to leave.

Cyclops has posed:
<< He's leaving. Guy looks like Colonel Sanders. >>

Scott stares at the man as he leaves, then takes out his phone to tap along the glass a few times to unlock the passcode.

<< It's fine, Jean. He's gone. I'm just going to get in the car and head back to school and take the long way. Just got a lot on my mind now. >>