[OPEN] X-Mansion clean-up

[agoddessonce]

WHO: Storm and you!
WHEN: Late May-Early June
WHERE: Xavier Institute for Mutant Education and Outreach
WHAT: Come bother a lonely goddess in a blast from the past mansion!
NOTES\WARNINGS: N/A for now, but this is the X-Men - discussion of death, bigotry, and discrimination likely.

A new building has popped up in Etraya - easily visible from the Hospital and Apartment Complex on the main island. Ororo spends a few days flying back and forth from the main island and to the Institute, investigating its exterior and interior, before finally just taking one of the bedrooms in the main mansion.



⏵ i. indoors;

The gate and the doors are, actually, left unlocked for now. Ororo is alone, and isn't too worried about security just yet - it was just her in this large, lonely mansion and she could take on anyone who might feel like trespassing -- not that there was anyone like that here, she'd found. She can imagine people like Scott or Logan or even Hank berating her for being careless anyway, but... she isn't worried. She's more concerned about how much of the institute is even real - and thus, how safe everything actually is.

So, she goes through the entire building one room at a time - testing light switches, checking stoves or microwaves, looking through the computers in the old staff offices (they switch on, but there's nothing saved in them), turning beds so she can offer them to people who might be sick of the apartments... It's a large place, so this takes her a couple of days. It won't be hard to run into her walking through the halls with a little clipboard and a pen -- she'd had a brief moment of missing the modern conveniences of Henry and Forge's tablets -- and a smile for anyone who'd wandered in after her.

"Hello. Come to help me investigate?"

However, if she sees anyone approaching the main elevator, she calls out instead in a sharp warning -- "The sub-levels are restricted. If you'd like to go there, you'll need me to key in some biometrics to access them."

⏵ ii. pool;

The Olympic-size pool is easily seen from surrounding islands. It's dry and empty when Ororo first discovers the Institute, and not yet very clean. She considers putting up a message on the network to ask for help, but... perhaps that'd be better suited for when the pool is actually usable, instead?

So when she's done poking through the inside of the mansion, she figures it's time for a more mundane use of her powers. She blasts the tiles with wind and water to wash away any grime or dirt left between the crevices. Filling it up with clean water later was no trouble at all either, with a convenient cloud of fresh rain.

Maybe she should work on clearing out spaces for some tables and chairs next? But that'll involve more hands than she has, so it'll have to be a project for another day, maybe.

⏵ iii. rooftop;

Between self-imposed chores to make the mansion feel a little less shadowed and a little more lived-in, Ororo takes her breaks on the east wing's roof. She's taken a pool lounger and set it up here, and lies under the sun or the moon or in the shade of one of those odd, chrome structures in nothing but her underwear and a pair of sunglasses, sipping from an insulated tumbler she'd picked up at Kwiktrip and a paperback she'd taken from Corrine's (she'll return it! eventually!)

It's the last place she expects anyone to find her, really, but... people could always surprise her.

⏵ iv. wildcard;

Feel free to mix-and-match or tag in with something else completely, or use the X-Mansion as set dressing for other threads! ♥ If we have previous CR, you can also assume Ororo has messaged your character in some way to help her check the place out. Message me on almondlychee if you want something more specific.

Comments

indoors

[fourthwalled]

[Part of him is shocked that Storm would even invite him to the mansion, so used to the rejection that usually faced him with X-men not named Colossus. Not without reason. Wade had proven again and again that he's not cut out to be a hero. The fact that he'd been able to live at the X-mansion for even a few months, and they'd entertained letting him be an X-man is more than he probably deserved.

He's not in his characteristic uniform for once. Both his mask and suit had been pretty damaged in the labyrinth, so they were out of commission until he could get a line on a sewing machine. Instead, he's in a pair of shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, and some very fashionable rainbow crocs.

And Wade had absolutely been contemplating the elevators and making a trip to the sublevels before Ororo spoke up.] What's down there? Oh. [He does a double take.] Oh my god! Do you have a Danger Room? Please tell me you got a Danger Room!

[agoddessonce]

[ what... is that outfit, Wade? ]

Yes, but I've not investigated it yet. I think it could use some calibration, just to see all the safeties are on before anyone - including you - uses it.

[ ... ]

Not that I'd let you in in those shoes, Wade. You'd slip and break your back.

[fourthwalled]

[This is peak fashion, Storm. Get on his level!]

But I would be the perfect guinea pig... [He pouts. Wade hadn't forgotten how she'd gotten about him getting hurt in the Labyrinth. So of course she's not going to let him be dumb and reckless now. But still! Who better to test it?] And I can take off the shoes. I hear it's better for your health to fight barefoot anyway.

Or is it running barefoot? Eh, who can remember.

[agoddessonce]

[ Please, she is peak fashion!

But also, gently: ] You aren't a guinea pig, Wade. I'd thank you to use friend, if not... [ What's a better word? A comrade, an ally? ] If not teammate. The Deadpool I know has been a member of our teams before.

[ He does make a little sense, though. Who better to test it? ] Will you help me design a run for you, then? Maybe something to test how well the holograms work.

iii. rooftop (a tragic tale)

[keepitgoing]

Whoooa... This place is massive!

[It's more to himself than anything, as he crawls along the top of the Institute's rooftops. Peter... may or may not have decided to go out as Spider-Man and scope out the different locations all over Etraya. Just to be more familiarized with everything, you know? It doesn't necessarily occur to him that, unlike NYC, he's probably invading on personal space a little.

When he finally pops his head over the rooftop that Ororo is sunbathing in, his big white spider-eyes grow about 10 times bigger before a strangled, immature sound of surprise escapes him; his hands immediately slap over his eyes, and he says with a burst of panic:]

OoohmyGODI'MSOSORry-!

[... Which is followed by a yelp as he proceeds to tumble off the side of the roof and roll very ungracefully down the side of the Institute, coming to a dramatically floppy PLOP on top of one of the lower arches. Is he dead? No, but for his sins, maybe he should be. Sure, he didn't actually see anything scandalous, but he probably looked like a creep, and that's all that it takes to deserve this fate.

... The young man shall lay here.

Dead.

(He's fine.)]

why's he got a perfect icon

[agoddessonce]

[ She's very surprised - both by the noise and the vaguely familiar color scheme of that spandex. Of course, red and blue and white could be anyone, but... She has no time to really think about it - the thump of him landing on the lower roof makes her fly over without putting on the shirt she had lying over the lounger. ]

Are you alri--... Spider-Man, is that you? [ No, never mind, the web detailing and that mask is unmistakable.

She moves over to help him sit up. ] That was quite the fall. What happened?

i always strive for an icon for every situation [1/2]

[keepitgoing]

[A soft groan escapes the sprawled, defeated Spider-Man.]

It's me... The Amazing... Spectacular...

[keepitgoing]

[As she moves to help him sit up, the panic reignites freshly. And with another garbled noise that is definitely not a real language, he covers his big buggy eyes with his gloved hands.]

I'm sososo sorry, I swear I didn't see anything! I wasn't expecting — I mean, I've had some close calls swinging by balconies, but I swear I'd never try to creep on anyone! [This Spider-Man sounds very — pitchy. Just out of puberty, even, and ready to start a life as a tired and jaded adult.] I was just checking out all of the different places scattered around Etraya, and...!

[He shall not stop hiding his eyes. Pretend he doesn't have them.]

[agoddessonce]

Creep on...? What are you - oh. [ It's easy to understand, once he points it out. Or, well, easier to know the reason, but it doesn't make sense..?? ]

Stop that. I'm sure you've seen worse.

Are you hurt? Have you broken anything? I know you have better stamina than most, but I'm never sure just how far that goes. [ To her credit, she moves away when she sees he isn't swaying like he's about to pass out. ... Or is he? ]

⏵ ii. pool;

[heartofthedream]

"Nice work."

[ Jean is shading her eyes from the high sun and the reflection on the water, even though she doesn't exactly need to do either. Her soul is brighter and hotter than the biggest star in the omniverse again. ( Always. ) But it is an impressive feat, and Jean appreciates that the choice was made for something other than dusting and throwing out more defunct circuitry. Something beautiful and that will draw people toward relaxing, fun.

Her mouth twists toward a sly smile. ]

"You know, I think this requires testing out.
In case of anything you might not have caught."

[agoddessonce]

And what, exactly, would I have not caught?

[ Most people might mistake the question to be huffy and offended. But Ororo has nothing but respect and love for Jean, knows she's as hyper-meticulous (... well, almost as,) she is. Any advice she might have about this would be carefully considered! ]

[heartofthedream]

[ Jean would consider it more regal, regimented. The echo forever of a woman who was once goddess, once queen, once planetary regent, and who, though so many might find her first imperiously nerve-wracking in her full glory, was also the woman whom Jean counted as her closest friend, as one of the truest, fiercest, more loyal of hearts she'd ever met.

Her eyebrows lifted, green eyes bright. ]

That we need a break?

And maybe—just maybe—it could involve testing out the pool?

[agoddessonce]

This whole city sometimes feels like a break all on its own. [ Ororo crosses her arms across her chest. Honestly, aside from being here against their will? It was so quiet here and people weren't hunting them down for being and daring to say they're mutants, and that is already something of a vacation.

Not that she says any of this aloud, but Jean would, of course, be welcome to the thoughts and feelings she harbors protectively in her heart. ]

... I don't mind testing out the pool, however. Have you found a suit to wear? [ Ororo has not, but she has no hang ups swimming in her underwear - or naked. ]

Jean Grey | [ Open To All]

[heartofthedream]

[ Jean's been quietly tooling around the mansion since she got here. It's a decidedly off feeling, being back in it. She misses the sound and smell of the ocean all around Krakoa. She misses the buffeting distance from the moon. She misses the leaves rustling outside the Treehouse in Central Park. She misses the not noticing and the one-is-all being of The White-Hot Room.

She claimed their old room back, changed that up a little and turned her attention to one of the big living rooms, then the kitchen. It's like it all stepped out of a memory, pristine. Except that crucial things have been stripped from every bit of technology. It takes very little to realize that fact is true of all the familiar-to-someone places in the dome. Another little mystery to add to the pile.

Slipping into a habit so old it feels dusty until done more than once or twice, Jean can be found in the early dawn strolling across downstairs hallways in the morning, drawing all the drapes and cracking the windows up a few inches with her powers, to let in the light and morning breeze. She can be found in the lower levels taking account of what all has been lost. Most afternoons, there's some point when she ends up in the pool. From time to time, Jean can be found meditating—under a tree upside down, in the living room with her eyes closed and a book in her lap, just drifting off over a cup of tea at the kitchen table—for a handful of different reasons. You'll have to ask and see if she'll tell you about it. ]

[shoplifter]

[Laura is someone who comes and goes. It's not that she feels she doesn't belong in the institute or anything — it just feels good to have an option to go wherever she wants. It's one not afforded to her most of her life, and so she has a room here that she may or may not be in, depending on her mood. Today, she's just venturing around the complex with some quiet interest. To her, it's a little like a museum, though she doesn't particularly know what a museum is. This was, somewhere in the universe, her father's old stomping grounds. He used to teach here, and make friends here, and find a family here. It's impossible not to be a little mystified by the idea, being who and what she is.

She ventures outside and sees a new and unfamiliar person, quietly sitting beneath a tree. Laura doesn't know what meditation is, but she knows what it's like to want to sit away on your own to think and find some calmness. Interrupting that seems like the unkind thing to do, and she wrestles with whether she should step any closer.

... But she is upside down, and Laura is eleven. She can't conceivably help herself.]

What are you doing?

[heartofthedream]

[ Jean can hear her coming before she chooses to speak—before she was within view (whispering images of herself from Laura's eye, and confusion, and curiosity), before she stepped outside, the whole time she's been back on the grounds. Jean's made it a priority to keep a faint, non-invasive pinpoint one where the girl ends up across the whole of the dome.

She can't not. It's Laura.

In any world, any universe, any time line, any age, any face—
she's the daughter of the man Jean loves. She's family.

Her mouth turns into a small smile.
Albiet, true, still a very upside-down one. ]

Listening.

What are you doing?

[shoplifter]

[Laura doesn't miss a beat, as she steps closer.]

Watching.

[It's something she has learned to be very good at. Most people don't tend to notice her, not really, and especially not as someone smart enough to retain little details. The scientists at Transigen where the same way, sometimes; they thought she was too quiet to be smart.]

Ororo said I could have a room.

... so I come and go.

[A pause, as she studies the hovering woman. Memories of comicbook pages flash in her mind, held in the careful hands of nurse Gabriela.]

You look like one of the X-Men. Are you?

[daughterofliberty]

[ That meditation trick's a neat one. Sharon comes to a halt under the tree's spreading branches, not quite under Jean's spill of bright hair, and slips her hands into her pockets. ]

Jean Grey.

[ Not someone she knows well, but someone she knows. And, more to the point, someone who knows Steve. She tips her head back, squinting up into the dappled light. ]

Maybe I'd be more into meditation if I could do it like that.

[heartofthedream]

Sharon Carter.

[ Jean returns the woman's full name more than a commentary on her choice of locale and gravitational rejection. But, differently from other smaller people who've interrupted her, Jean opens her eyes—and rights herself fluidly while moving toward the ground— as befits a more respectful choice for who is addressing her.

There's a quiet understanding that this isn't entirely a social call; nothing here is. ]

Would you like a drink?

I've been distracted by the thought of lemonade for about ten minutes now, as is, and it should be just about cold now.

[daughterofliberty]

Lemonade sounds great.

[ She's not in her suit; this isn't a professional visit, exactly, nor is it a friendly one, as such. And even in these circumstances it feels strange to be here. Steve is the usual liaison to the X-Men, not her.

But Steve (her Steve, their Steve) isn't here. So she smiles as Jean floats to the ground, stepping back to give her room.

(It's not a gesture Jean Grey requires, but it's polite all the same.) ]

Any chance it's fresh-squeezed?

[redvisor]

( it's strange. despite the differences here and there throughout, it's still mostly the mansion he's known for years and he doesn't really know how to feel about that, considering where he is. considering what it all reminds him of.

he's taken the time to walk through it — with and without ororo — mostly just to get his bearings while simultaneously seeing if this really was what he thought it to be. he doesn't even realize where it is he's headed — the particular room he's shared for a number of years now with jean, until he's there and he finds her there, too. because... of course she would be. even here.

standing there, like before, he feels the initial somersault his heart nearly does upon seeing her. at seeing that cloak of red down her back and shoulders. he swallows. thickly. a glance away as he tries to find the words. )

Sorry, I...

( didn't think it was occupied. )

[heartofthedream]

[ Jean was changing out a curtain on one of the windows. Fingers lifted toward it in a graceful point—the faintest red-golden light at the edge of her fingertips, the rod, and the curtain pocket—regardless of the fact she was far past the need for the focal show of it. Habit was harder to break; humanity, more than precious. And they'd been through 3 different sets of rooms and one whole house since the last time they'd lived here.

She'd been distracted, or so says how she turned around just a little too fast toward the two words and thoughts that trailed on after those broke off. There's shock inside of it and something a little too much like trespass‚ ]


Oh. [ Jean hardly needs more than to be smart to figure out why he's in the door of her—

their?

—bedroom.

That's a problem. ] I didn't think about—
[ Follows, stumbling, and still almost too easily into: ] I can move.

indoors.

[redvisor]

( the moment he'd found out this place — some rendition of it — was here, he'd made his way to it without so much as a second thought. he's without his bike. doesn't even have a car he can use. can't fly, so. he walks. he walks and walks and walks and walks until he finally makes it to the institute and, for a long moment, he just stands outside it. staring. it's... different. yet it still looks and feels familiar. huh.

he's without his gear. without his uniform and doesn't have his visor on him. just the ruby quartz glasses and a leather jacket thrown over some civilian clothes. he doesn't know what to expect here — doesn't know if this is some sort of trick or game this place is throwing at him. more importantly, he doesn't know what or who he might find in there.

that doesn't stop him. not much does when it comes to scott summers, even when he's more a shell of the man he used to be. so when he steps inside the mansion — when he stands there in the foyer and takes a second to get his bearings, he feels like the man he used to be for just a fraction of a second when he spots ororo there.

because he knows it's her. he's known her for years. regardless of place, how could he not know his teammate, his second in command... his friend. )

Storm?

[agoddessonce]

[ She'd been walking across the main hall, going from one wing to the next with her eyes on a notepad in her hands. Someone was at the door, and she was just about to turn and call out to them - but he beats her to the punch, and she's startled by the use of her name.

When she looks up, genuine surprise colors her expression; there's really no mistaking him, not with those glasses and that sort of jacket. ]

Scott! [ She doesn't fly, but she comes close as she strides over. ] Scott, how long have you-- are you well? I am so glad to see you!

[ If she were the type to, she'd have her hands on him somehow - maybe on his shoulders, his arms... For the moment, she holds the instinct back, stopping just short of him. She might be taller than he remembers, older, and with a more pronounced accent than he probably associates with his Storm. But it's still unmistakably Ororo, if the way the very wind shifts with her surprise and her movements, stirring but never disturbing her hair. ]

[redvisor]

( when she approaches, that’s when he notices the differences. they’re subtle. he knows it’s her — she’d said his name — yet there’s something about her, like with jean, and his expression shifts for a moment. brows furrow above ruby quartz glasses. )

Yeah…

( his voice trails off and he takes a second to look around. )

Where’s everyone else?