545/Busted in the Rec Room

Busted in the Rec Room
Date of Scene:	21 May 2017
Location:	Xavier's Schook, Westchester, New York
Synopsis:	Scott Summers is caught playing video games in the Rec Room by Tatum
Cast of Characters:	Cyclops, Deadzone

---

Cyclops has posed:
Things have been continuing as they always do at the mansion. There are a lot less students in resident at the moment. Most have gone home for the summer. A handful who have no home to go to or have chosen to remain for summer classes are around. So the teachers have had a couple of weeks off.

Which is why Scott is taking advantage. Not having to be up for early class means he can stay up late. And since the students still have to be in bed, no one is hogging the PS4. It's late enough that there are no witnesses. So there he sits, the boyscout, in the middle of Call of Duty: Black Ops. Another of his guilty pleasures.

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum is shutting down the main floor for the night. Turning off lights, cleaning up things that have been left out. Still work for the housekeepering staff, but she just doesn't feel right going to bed without a walkthrough. When she gets to the rec room, she is getting ready to tell Terrence and Lance that they are supposed to be in bed, but then she remembers that Terence has graduated and that Lance has gone home for the summer. So who is in the...

Tatum smirks when she sees who it is and leans on the archway into the rec room to watch for a while. She then approaches, the usual click of her high heels absent as she wears a more casual goth appearance today. She leans on the back of the couch. "So, not as adverse to guns as .... I would have thought." She remembers not to make actual comparisons to her own world, in case she inadvertantly does damage.

Cyclops has posed:
To his credit, Scott doesn't jump out of his skin. He was so intent on the game he actually lost track of his surroundings. The only indication of his surprise would be the fact his character gets shot at the moment she speaks. He quickly pauses, glancing over his shoulder at Tatum. He gives her a half smile as he shrugs. "Busted. I enjoy a little CoD every once in a while." He feels like she had been about to say something else but resists the urge to ask what. She's certain to have her reasons and if she'd wanted him to know, she would've said it outright.

Setting aside the controller, he turns so his arm rests on the back of the couch and he can see her more clearly. "What're you doing up so late?"

Deadzone has posed:
Tate walks about the room, picking up forgotten articles of clothing that will get tossed into the laundry. She already holds a bundle of clothing in her arms as the students get lazy in the summer months. "I'm letting Hank get a bit more work done before I drag him to bed. He's working on something that is so over my head that I can't even start to describe it other then that it is a thing that does a thing." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug and laughs softly. "Good thing you guys didn't hire me for my brain. You'd want a refund."

Cyclops has posed:
"Don't sell yourself short," Scott says as he shakes his head. "You're talking about Hank here. When he talks, all of us feel we have the IQ of a rock. Not even a smart rock. A really dumb one." He picks up the controller and starts to push a button then hesitstes, staring at the screen. He glances from there to Tatum, eyes hidden behind his glasses so she can't tell the quandry he's in. He shouldn't ask. It's really stupid of him. After all, he's dealt with it for his whole life so why should it matter to him now?

After a moment, he decides it can't hurt to ask. "May I ask a favor of you?"

Deadzone has posed:
She has to chuckle softly at the comment, nodding her head. "Yeah, at least when it comes to music, I can talk to him on the same level. And if we talk cooking or sewing, then I'm the one making him feel like the rock, but mostly, yeah. Really dumb rock. Like... I don't know. Granite?"

She starts to smile when Scott asks about the favour. She might not be able to see his eyes, but she's pretty good at guessing. It seems like most people in the mansion have asked at one point or another. "I've often wondered why you don't come to No Powers Movie Night. You know, you're just as welcome as the students are." She closes the distance and sits down on the couch, offering her hand. "Come on. Let's see those brown eyes."

Cyclops has posed:
"How do you know they're--oh. Right," Scott remembers her history even as he is fighting with embarassment. He knows he shouldn't be embarassed but he is. It's like it's a weakness to want to experience normal. Just for a few minutes. "I don't want to make it look like I'm trying to get away from my abilities. It might give the wrong impression to the kids. I just..." And for this bit of time, suddenly he's not the field leader of the X-Men. He's a young man who has the social skills of someone well below his actual chronological age. He's as bad as one of the teens they teach. "I want to see other colors." There, he said it. That wasn't so hard after all, right?

He cautiously slips his hand into hers. He waits several seconds, trying to control his breathing. He reaches up his other hand to his glasses, carefully touching the button that opens the aperture. If the beams are still there, he will just blast the controller off the couch. But nothing happens. Long moments later, he pulls off his glasses, eyes closed so tightly they are scrunched up. Carefully, he opens one lid. Then the other. He blinks as he looks around the room, his eyes normal, letting him see a world that isn't stained red from ruby quartz.

Deadzone has posed:
"I know I'm not supposed to talk about my home world. Hank says I might make changes here that could make a big difference, when they seem like just little things. But I think you should know that it was your duplicate in my world who first showed me that my power wasn't a curse. Powers Off Movie Night was actually his idea." Usually brash and brassy and full of smart-assed comments and bravado, here alone and late at night, she lets her softer side show.

"He said that yes, at this school, we teach about control. We find ways to make it so we don't have to use a crutch. But sometimes, it's nice to just let go of that control. To just ... relax. And I don't think the kids would think less of you for wanting to see colours other then shades of red." Speaking of relaxing, she lets go of her own control and lets her power just relax into its natural size, letting her hand slip free as she does. "Don't worry. I still got ya. Just letting my own corset strings loose, as it were."

Cyclops has posed:
He's a little surprised to hear that his counterpart came up with tha idea. The words sound sort of like something he's say and Scott doesn't doubt for a second she's telling him the truth of the origin. He does keep those glasses clutched in his hand, ready to shut his eyes and slam them into place in an instant. He should be relaxinb but he's not sure he can truly let go. With no control, the blasts make him a danger and if she slips? It could be disastrous. He's chancing a lot for such a selfish reason. He knows better. Mentally he berates himself even as he looks at Tatum for the first time when she isn't tinged red.

"I think we're safe with you sharing that tidbit. I won't tell if you won't," he says in a light tone although it's at odds with his body language.

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum watches Scott with amusement. The fact that he is not willing to truly relax, well, that doesn't really surprise her. She leans on the couch, propping her cheek against the heel of her palm. "Don't worry, you guys taught me a lot of control over the years. I can feel where the edge of my aura is now. Learned it by playing a game I like to call 'Now He's Furry, Now He's Not' from the other side of the room. Hank hates that game. Mostly because his glasses don't fit right for a human nose."

Her tone is also light, but unlike Scott's own, she seems to be right in keeping with her words.

Cyclops has posed:
Scott chuckles at that one, shaking his head again but the body definitely doesn't relax. "I'm sure he does. Your powers are quite exceptional. There are a lot of people that would give anything to be able to turn off their powers for a while." More would like it permanently. Like Rogue. He takes a long look around the room now, taking in everything. He stares at the tv screen for quite a while as he's speaking. "I haven't really gotten to speka to you much without others around. You seem to have adjusted well but is there anything we can do to help you further?" He shifts the shades from one hand to the other.

Deadzone has posed:
The goth nods her head. "I used to hate my gift. I wanted to be a mutant so badly when I was a kid. Thought it would be the answer to all the problems. Then, when I finally got my gift, it was just turning off other peoples gift. How was I supposed to make that pay the bills? Then I met you guys, and some others. Went through a whole load of stuff, some good, some bad. Learned a lot. Got that chip off my shoulder finally. That took a whole lot of doing. And now.... I just live one day at a time."

She pulls a leg up onto the couch, curling it under her. "If you had asked me that last week, I would have asked for a fast car and this world`s version of my cello back. But... that was just me trying to get the trappings of my old life back. It`s going backwards. I need to focus on going forwards. So? I don't know... I can't think of anything. I have a job. I have a boyfriend. I have food on my plate and a roof over my head. Life is... actually, pretty good."

Cyclops has posed:
Her viewpoint is so different from his own. It's right of course. All those things are all anyone really needs. It's a good life. Not that he knows about the relationship part but the rest? With those one can be happy. "I'm sure we could get you a cello," he does say, figuring that wouldn't be difficult with the Professor's resources. He glances back to the screen. Just put down the glasses and pick up the controller. Then he could see the game in action in color. But he can't seem to let go of the glasses. His crutch. His control freak side won't let it happen.

A moment later, the glasses are back in place on his face. With the loss of a technicolor world, it's like a switch is thrown. He's back to being comfortable, at ease in his own skin. He picks up the controller with his now open hands but doesn't start it yet.

Deadzone has posed:
Having gone from needing food stamps to eat to being responsible for a couple of million and a farm full of mutants and then back down to nothing has a way of letting a person see what is important in life. She waves a hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. There are cellos in the music room. Just, when you've had your hands on the finest in the world, you get a little spoiled. Warren is getting me a carbon fiber one, to replace my practice cello. But, with me not working for the Philharmonic anymore, a Stradivarius would really be a waste. It would be like having one of Dale Earnhardt's cars inthe garage. If you're not driving in Formula 1, what are you gonna do with it, right?"

Tate sits on the couch with Scott, her field of nullification at its relaxed state of a 10ft sphere. She doesn't object to Scott putting his glasses back on. He's had control for so long, it would be hard to let go. "Actually, that reminds me. I need to talk to Remy...."