WELCOME TO NEXUS.

[Betsy Braddock]

She swooped down besides the violet beauty and notes the addition of crimson to her color scheme. “Oh no, you're bleeding everywhere. I need to get you to the medical bay,”

Betsy gritted her teeth as Rachel approached her. The wound wasn't as bad as the blood would have demonstrated. Still, she was wounded, and losing blood. She would take any help she could get. "Bullet wound. Left leg. It's nothing critical." She told Rachel as much as she could. But the help was welcome.

“That was a stupid question. Just... hold on!” Telekinesis, again, wraps around Rachel and adds the woman codenamed Psylocke as well. Positioned in her arms, the time-traveler whisks them into the air and they travel through the mansion at an alarming pace. Students and staff alike are pushed by the force of a force field surrounding the two of them, as they made their way into one of the elevators.

The telekinesis was welcome. That meant Betsy wouldn't have to put pressure on the injured leg. As she was carried down towards the medbay, she tried to use one of the techniques she knew to deal with the pain. But what really bothered her was the fact that when they asked, she'd have almost nothing at all to give as information.

At least Rachel had appeared quickly enough. Betsy knew it already - she'd hate the aftermath of this.

“Elisabeth, we're almost there,” Rachel said as the elevator started to descend. “What the hell happened?”

Instead of speaking, Betsy reached to project the images of what happened inside Rachel's mind. It was easier than speaking at the moment. She showed Rachel the whole battle, the fight with the thirty soldiers, the two she killed, the fight with Logan and the strange young woman. The way she seemed to win against him, and take him away. Her fight with the Captain and then the shot that got her in the leg, when she had barely the time to move so it wouldn't hit any vital points.

"I'll... be fine. We need to find Wolverine."

As the two of them finally arrived at the med bay, Betsy was truly thankful for the telekinesis. It had helped to avoid the movement of her leg. Using Rachel as almost her crutch, Betsy helped herself to one of the beds. The pain was numbing now. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing, because she'd rather feel the pain to be alert.


This post has been edited by Betsy Braddock on Jul 13 2012, 03:17 PM

[Rd Cyclops]

[[C.F: Originality]]

The door to the Medical Bay slid open to reveal Cyclops, resplendent in his full uniform – his ruby quartz glasses having been stowed away en route in favour of pulling the headpiece of his uniform up and fixing his visor in place – and after barely giving the doors time to open, strode quickly inside with a rhetorical ”So, he’s back then.“ to announce his presence. Him was of course Wolverine, but there was a more serious issue to deal with first, as he approached and saw first-hand the extent of Psylocke’s injuries.

”Betsy, how bad are you hurt?“ Hidden mostly behind the visor, his brow was heavily frowned and given their own relationship, it was hardly surprising. Of course they had been teammates for a while as well; her having joined the team not long after he had left to work on his marriage to Madeleine and only really getting to know each other once his version of X-Factor had folded back into the team and the combined X-Men were split in half. By then though, he was happily engaged to Jean and she was now a sultry Japanese ninja with an outfit of little more than a bathing suit and given his proclivity for women who could read his mind it was only natural his eye might have wandered a little bit given the way she seemingly enjoyed enticing him.

Of course, all that flirtation did lead to one heavily regretted moment of weakness (on his part, certainly) but now he had placed a ring on Jean’s finger and Betsy had started seeing one of his oldest friends in Warren, putting the issue firmly in the past, but that didn’t mean he was any less concerned for her well-being. Given that it was clearly a gunshot on her leg, it tended to imply that whoever their assailants had been, they were probably human and organised if they were bringing firearms. To take down Psylocke AND Wolverine though… ‘organised’ didn’t even begin to describe it.

”Rachel“, he turned to the young redhead and offered a grateful ”Thank you for responding so quickly.“ even if his expression failed to change from gravely serious. Rachel was … complicated: his daughter, but just not his daughter, as she had grown up in another lifetime where he and Jean had married young and quickly begun on their family, but it hadn’t ended well. She had seen virtually everyone she knew either killed or hemmed into concentration camps especially for mutant kind, before eventually having her body corrupted against her will and being used to hunt down the remnants of their kind. To be in this world though must have been heavenly and whilst it had taken Scott a while to accept that there was another around the mansion that could claim him as a father, it was something they were working on.

”Now then,“ he turned back to Betsy on her sickbed ”What happened, exactly, and what are we facing?“

This post has been edited by Rd Cyclops on Jul 13 2012, 06:55 PM

[Archangel]

Warren yawned as he strode down the halls, his metallic wings in a tight fold against his back. While he executed perfect control with the wings, he didn't trust the children at this school to show perfect restraint. The last thing he needed was for someone to run up to try and touch one of his razor-edged feathers. Kids were silly that way... With each step, Warren caught a glimpse of something that he worried a child could find themselves harming themselves with. Things in Xavier's mansion simply weren't the same as far as he was concerned. When he'd arrived, they were all young adults, but the two he'd crossed the hall only an hour ago couldn't have even been ten yet. With all of the attacks the 'school's was known to get from enemies of the X-Men, he questioned if this was the right place for them. But then again, he wasn't foreign to the concepts of danger outside their walls. At least here they were together, at least they were united.

Warren's day had been relatively slow up until this point. He'd considered going for a fly, but wanted to be around the campus until Betsy got back. It was as if he'd not seen her in a long while, but he knew that wasn't true. He just had to indulge himself in her company. He'd been mulling over a possible simulation in the danger room. Despite the last few sessions he'd joined in with the other X-Men, he still felt as if he'd been lacking in training and even responsiveness during combat. His body didn't need much work, it was naturally battle ready, and flying in itself was an excellent workout, but the skills he used needed to be polished. He was walking down the hall, on his way to the basement when Betsy's voice echoed in his head.

Warren's face steeled, he immediately forgot the care he'd been taking with his wing and launched himself into the air, flapping down the hallway. His wingspan was nearly wall to wall. Fortunately the mansion had rather high cielings and he was able to fly over most everyone in the hall. Was it safe? No. Was it smart? Hell no. But Betsy was injured. He didn't know in what manner, he didn't know how, but he intended to find out and to fix it. Truth be told, Warren was never a huge fan of Wolverine, but if someone had hurt Betsy, he'd be sure to make them pay.

...Only if he intended to see about Betsy, he was going the wrong way. Rachael and Betsy telekinetically shot right under him, from the same direction he had come. Turning mid-air was no problem for Warren. He dropped to the ground and bounded after them, taking the elevator to the underlevels where their medbay was located. He figured if she was injured, that was probably where they were headed. Rachael had so kindly cleared the path for him, he was there within moments. Both Rachael and Scott were there when he arrived.

"Betsy! What happened?" Warren asked as he walked over to her, analyzing the damage and folding his wings behind him.

[TheSuicideKing]

CF: Cigarette Break

Gambit went around the house to the garage's front entrance, making it there to find a bike tossed close to the main doors. That was definitely unusual. Any of the bike owners around took pretty decent care of their rides, but it was not his, so not his business. He went back to opening the gates, but curiosity spoke louder, and he approached the fallen machine to check on it. It was Logan's and stained in blood. It made a path towards the entrance, and Gambit was now faced with a choice. He could leave now and get his cigarettes, or he could go in, and make sure to get a spot on the team going out, hopefully bash a few heads in. Because if someone went after Logan, and he went through the trouble of coming back still bleeding, that meant it was a lot bigger than he could deal with alone. And if he knew his teammates, Wolverine would be looking to leave for payback soon, someone would make a speech about X-Men sticking together, and a team would go with him. He didn't have a chance to go on an actual mission since waking up, but there was no way he was missing this one.

Making through the half-open door and listening to the people chattering about, he found out it hadn't been Logan in the bike, but one of the women, and another flew her in down to the basement (they went too fast for anyone to be sure who it was) a few minutes ago. Following them to the obvious destination, Gambit went past the sliding doors to find an already big group, with Angel, Cyclops, Rachel and Psylocke, bleeding on a bed. Seemed like she was the one attacked, and the blood was all hers. Leg wound, by the looks of it. Those hurt like a mother, and always took too long to heal. He had a hard time feeling bad about his nosy teammate. So hard, in fact, he couldn't do it at all.

“Who's in trouble?”

This post has been edited by TheSuicideKing on Aug 3 2012, 06:49 AM

[Betsy Braddock]

When on the bed, the pain of the superficial wound subsided a little. But then, people started to flock into the med bay. First Scott, and his concern for her would have been almost interesting if only she had been the same woman she was a few months ago, when Kwannon's influence in her mind was still lingering.

”Betsy, how bad are you hurt?“

"Superficially. Still hurts like hell though," the Englishwoman replied, quickly and to the point. No reason to be hiding the truth. "I shifted my body in time so to avoid bigger damage."

”Now then,“ he turned back to Betsy on her sickbed ”What happened, exactly, and what are we facing?“

Betsy winced a little. She was still there, wounded, and Scott was trying to drill information out of her. How typical, she thought. Raising a slim eyebrow, the telepath chuckled a little. "Oh I can tell you everything, Scott. But I would really appreciate if someone could take care of my wound before I lose more blood than I should."

She was also gaining some time. Betsy knew Scott wouldn't be the only one rushing to the medical area. Soon as people noticed the blood outside, she was sure they'd arrive. Besides, Warren... she had called for him mentally. She felt he was on his way.

It would be a lot easier to explain all at once than having to repeat everything to every single person later on.

"Betsy! What happened?" Warren asked as he walked over to her, analyzing the damage and folding his wings behind him.

His voice seemed to soothe her a little. She managed a small smile as her man approached her, reaching out a hand to touch his blue-tinted arm gently. "Oh, Warren, the same as usual. We're X-Men. When do we not run into trouble?" She tried to sound cheerful but it sounded just slightly strained.

“Who's in trouble?”

Gambit. She knew that the Cajun was probably still mad at her for her intrusion in his mind. In her defense, Betsy was trying to help him. The fact that she snooped around more than she should was a consequence, but she had good intentions. At least, for the moment, he didn't seem to be willing to confront her for it. She knew that time would come, though. And when it did, she'd face it as any other challenge she's faced until then.

"Well, since I have my Three Musketeers here all worried and fussing over me," Betsy said with a hint of humorous irony in her voice. "Perhaps I can explain things as best as possible. Considering I'm still bleeding and in pain."

She took a deep breath before she started. "Logan and I went for a couple of beers." Her eyes went to Warren for a moment, she had left him a note. She wondered, for a brief second, if he had the time to read it. "When we were getting out, we were surrounded by around thirty soldiers and a smaller teenager girl from her looks. I'd say eighteen at most. Who happened to give Logan a run for his money. I am not entirely sure how she managed to best him in combat, but she did."

Betsy paused for a moment, another wince coming to her beautiful face. "Of course, apparently they came to take him somewhere. I was giving him the advantage and engaging the soldiers so he could deal with the girl. However, I did not expect that the girl would win. By the time I could do anything about it, he had been defeated and was being taken away. The soldiers retreated, but while I had won against a few of them, one managed to shoot at me. I only had time to move so the damage would be minimal."

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and leant against the bed, her purple hair cascading around her.. "I did not have the time to scan their minds for information. I had to run back here because of my wound. Something tells me it was their intention. The girl realized I was a telepath."

Her violet eyes looked at the three men that were surrounding her. And even wounded and in pain, she managed out a chuckle. "Now, will one of you gentlemen be kind enough to help me take care of a leg wound, or will you three keep on staring at me like lost boys?"

This post has been edited by Betsy Braddock on Jul 24 2012, 12:41 PM

[Rd Cyclops]

"Well, since I have my Three Musketeers here all worried and fussing over me, Logan and I went for a couple of beers. When we were getting out, we were surrounded by around thirty soldiers and a smaller teenager girl from her looks. I'd say eighteen at most. Who happened to give Logan a run for his money. I am not entirely sure how she managed to best him in combat, but she did."

Logan was back then, but whilst he had obviously chosen to catch with a few select individuals, obviously reporting back to the mansion had never crossed his mind. Or…

Like it or not, Scott couldn’t escape the Jean factor; Logan had barely concealed the way he coveted her in the past, despite the security of their relationship there had always been that nagging voice hidden away at the back of his mind that she just might, in some way, return those affections. And then, he had asked her earlier that morning outright if she’d picked up any signs of his return, and with cerebra only enhancing her telepathy, and it made it difficult for anyone, let alone those she had served alongside for years, to hide from her. So was she hiding the Wolverine from him now then?

"Of course, apparently they came to take him somewhere. I was giving him the advantage and engaging the soldiers so he could deal with the girl. However, I did not expect that the girl would win. By the time I could do anything about it, he had been defeated and was being taken away. The soldiers retreated, but while I had won against a few of them, one managed to shoot at me. I only had time to move so the damage would be minimal."

As for being beaten by a girl? Well considering the list of opponents that could stand one-on-one with the diminutive Canuck and come away with an upper hand you could count on the fingers of both hands - and with several severed fingers to spare – but they were a very masculine bunch. Mystique; If she caught him by surprise and with some seriously heavy ordinance backing her up maybe, but there was only really Lady Deathstrike that could expect to walk away from a straight up fist/claw fight. But she didn’t say either though, did she … and Betsy knew both of them just as well as he did. A new player on the field then?

It needed investigating certainly.

"I did not have the time to scan their minds for information. I had to run back here because of my wound. Something tells me it was their intention. The girl realized I was a telepath. Now, will one of you gentlemen be kind enough to help me take care of a leg wound, or will you three keep on staring at me like lost boys?"

Despite the laugh, he could see she was clearly wincing in pain – having to drive herself back on the motorbike did little favours for a bullet wound at the best of times – but being hardly possessed of a bedside manner himself tried to apply some ill-judged levity to the situation ”What for that little scratch? “ before even trying to crack an awkward smile that Bobby had derided on several occasions of being ‘creepy’ and even making the Iceman shudder. Dropping the smile again before it really had a chance to settle in, he moved over to the back of the bed, because they did have the technology; they could rebuild her. ”Okay. Sit Back. Let’s get this started.“ Clicking away on the control panel, he began to bring the automated functions to life – it could handle pretty much anything short of major surgery after all – and as the sides slid up to encase her leg, she’d be right as rain in no time.

Meanwhile, Scott’s mind was working ten to the dozen. They needed a response and it needed to come now while the scene was fresh. Given the strength of what they’d been up against, he could hold his own but even the great Scott Summers had to admit that if they could overpower Wolverine AND Psylocke so easily then he wouldn’t stand a chance. ”Okay. They took our guy“ Scott declared to no-one in particular ”and we’re getting him back.“ If there was a trace of a smile before, it was wiped completely now; there was determination and a furrowed brow hidden behind the visor. ”Betsy; you’re staying here to heal up fully. All I need from you now is a location, and an idea who we’re looking for “ He’d turned towards the bed again, and tapping at the side of his temple, offered the suggestion that she could info dump straight in his head, there and then ”and you can get some rest.“

”Warren,“ He turned to the winged wonder, one of his oldest friends ”I’ll understand if you want to stay behind and play nurse.“ It sounded harsher than he meant it; because if it was Jean lain up on the bed, he’d be almost inclined to stay behind as well. Given the numbers at his disposal though these days, they could spare him. Gambit, on the other hand, had no such option. ”Remy, I could use you though. I’m going to be wheels up from the Hanger in five, as soon as I get the rest of the recovery team together.“

Turning around, he almost stormed out of the room and was heading for the War Room a couple of doors down the corridor. Inside lay the advanced communication options; one of the many consoles that sprung into life as the room detected his entry into it. Bless the Comm badges that all the senior students and graduated X-Men wore, as these days it was the only way to keep a firm track on who was in and around the mansion grounds. In terms of personnel, from what he knew they were organised and well-armed, making resiliency and a fair amount of invulnerability a necessity: Both Bishop and Colossus were on site – Piotr was back then, news to him, a thought drifted across the back of his mind – and could soak up a fair amount of punishment, although given they were using Ballistic rather than energy weapons, Lucas might have thought better of coming, although he could use his detective’s eye for detail. Ideally, he would have called Rogue as well, as she could double as air support, but given that she was out of the immediate range, he’d have to place a call to her en route and hope that she was no further afield than the city and could join them at the site.

That just left tracking, and given that their primary sense of smell was now in the hands of the little girl and her gang of soldiers, what better time than to see the Warpath boy’s skills for himself? Keying their respective codes into the panel, he opened up a line to the badges. ~X-Men. We have a situation. Meet at the hanger in five minutes if you can. I’ll explain more en route, but one of our own has been taken.“

[[TBC: New York -> Times Sq. -> what’s Small and smells … Canadian]]

[TheSuicideKing]

Gambit had no problem picking out the sarcasm in Betsy's voice, and he couldn't disagree with it. It was obvious why he didn't care, but Cyclops had gone into leader mode, and was more worried about getting information than nursing her; Archangel was the one standing by her bedside, but doing little. He guessed they were dating, or something. He could see the similarities. Both were the rich, snotty type, both with their bodies changed from the original form (Gambit wasn't going to dwell on his hand in the man's change). Still, it was none of his business. He never got along with neither of them, and his personal life usually had enough drama for him to have no time to pay attention to others'.

Well, worst case scenario, he got to hear the first-hand story about the day Wolverine got beaten up by a teenaged girl. Braddock wasn't the best storyteller he had met, but it was still worth it. Braddock getting shot was a bonus by now. He knew enough not to judge a book by its cover when it came to mutants and, still, it would be good material to mock the Canadian with later. But it wasn't all fun. There was a new girl around who could take Wolverine like that, and the people she was with weren't sparing expense. Thirty soldiers? Betsy could be a lot of things, but she wasn't the type to lie on the numbers to make herself look better (she didn't need to). That meant those people were serious.

Her lack of info was going to cost them. If those people were that prepared, they'd know how to clean their prints. There was very little work with, and it seemed to be all she knew, since Betsy decided it was time to care for herself. Summers left leader mode long enough to work the machines (and fail at his attempted humor), and back again for bossing them around. He had to say, those were the kind of orders he had no problem following. It was what he had gone there for, anyway.

Gambit let Summers march off, inevitably building the best team for this mission in his head, already planning how things should go. Psylocke's invasion of his mind had stayed between them. He wasn't the type to tell the teacher, and if this thing went off the rails, it was inevitably going to blow up in his face. So, he simply gave the woman a joyless smirk. “If there's anything I can do, chère, I'd love to help you as much as you wanted to help me before.”

And he left, to get ready for the mission.


TBC: What’s Small and Smells … Canadian

This post has been edited by TheSuicideKing on Aug 3 2012, 06:50 AM

[Betsy Braddock]

Despite the laugh, he could see she was clearly wincing in pain – having to drive herself back on the motorbike did little favours for a bullet wound at the best of times – but being hardly possessed of a bedside manner himself tried to apply some ill-judged levity to the situation ”What for that little scratch? “

Betsy couldn't help but smirk at Scott's sense of humour. Or attempt thereof. It made her amused, at least he showed he could be playful if only he put his mind into it. Not that Betsy ever doubted that, but the history between them was a bit strange, at best. Influenced by Kwannon's mind residue and how she attempted to clearly steal Scott from Jean. It was all long in the past, now. Still, during some of her more quiet, meditating moments, she'd think about it. And whether she'd do the same without Kwannon influencing her mind.

And more often than not, she wouldn't quite know the answer. "I know," she replied with a humourous tone of her own. "I must be getting soft."

As the autodoc started to do its thing, Betsy closed her eyes. Her ears though were attentively listening to Scott's instructions. Part of her cursed inside her mind. She wanted to be there, to find Logan. Yet, she knew she wouldn't be able to.

Taking a deep breath, she was about to start resting when Gambit's voice reached her ears.

“If there's anything I can do, chère, I'd love to help you as much as you wanted to help me before.”

She frowned, glancing at the Cajun and managing to speak before he left. "I did want to help you, Gambit. There is no way of helping a comatose man without entering his mind."

They'd have to talk later. Or not. Betsy did what she felt she had to do. She wouldn't press it. She wouldn't apologize either. She had nothing to apologize for. She felt Gambit had so much to hide that every little thing made him angry when it came to looking into his mind. His own problem. She wouldn't press it, and if she had to enter his mind again for any other reason, she would, without thinking twice.

But there wasn't much else she could do now but resting. And hoping that wherever he was, Logan would be alright. Funny that time and again, it was his image that popped in her mind. The image of Logan fighting against the younger girl, the image of his defeat.

And time and again the image of their kiss would come back to her thoughts. And that made her take a deep breath. She was happy with Warren, wasn't she? Why did that kiss made her so thoughtful. It shouldn't do that, should it? Because she loved Warren. Or did she?

Nothing made much sense anymore, and eventually she just decided to rest her mind.

[Betsy Braddock]

The sounds of the autodoc were echoing way too much for her tastes. The pain was now dulled, but then again, all she wanted to do was getting herself out there and doing something useful for a change.

Betsy was fully aware that it hadn't been necessarily her fault - in fact, she had been quite skilled to manage to leave that encounter with only a minor bullet wound. Considering in the end it was her against thirty soldiers while Logan fought against that girl, she could have been easily dead.

While she had tried to get her mind straight and rest a little, while her body did seem to stay still and rest, her mind was not. Would Scott be fast enough? If that girl could defeat Logan...

Betsy didn't quite see how everything had happened. It was obvious to her that they had organized things to make sure that she didn't have the chance to help him. But was it all that she was worried about? When her mind kept on remembering what happened before, the passionate kiss that they had shared and how it had made her feel, that was slightly worse for her to deal with. A kiss was just that, nothing but a kiss, but it was what lingered beyond it that bothered her.

Why did he have to have terrible timing? And what did it mean to her relationship with Warren if just one kiss would take her off tangent the way it did? Was that any way of even starting a relationship to begin with?

Too many questions. Not enough answers. And while the bullet pain subsided a little, she definitely realized that she would not fall asleep.

"Bloody wanker," she murmured to herself as her violet eyes shot open all of a sudden. "Just be fine, Logan."

Then, once more, in a foolish attempt, the British telepath tried to rest.

[Rd Iceman]

((c.f: Apart))

With a couple of hours and change to kill before he even needed to think about getting ready for his night out on the town with the delectable Lorna Dane, Bobby decided that he probably should go have a look around the mansion. And where better to start than the lower levels? Given the rate the Shi’ar bequeathed technology to this backwards little planet of theirs, together with whatever Reed Richards or Tony Stark had decided was obsolete enough now for them to make available to the recent of the Superhero, before Hank had managed to rewire it all into one unified system that kinda worked most of the time, you barely had a chance to have a play by way of a beta test before the latest version of gizmo came into use,

The medical bay was probably the best example of this, as despite the handful of doctorates possessed by the extended X-Family (And Hank Himself accounting for at least a couple of those) they barely needed to staff the room as the automated systems could cope with pretty much anything short of extensive cardiac surgery, plus the post-op care patched you up with minimal scarring if you could be bothered to let it finish the cycle.

Of course, if you had a healing factor, or the ability to shift your physical form into one composed as pure ice, which could replace any missing chunks by absorbing ambient moisture from the air before shifting back to flesh and blood again, good as new, then you didn’t really need it…

Not everyone got to be that lucky though.

The door slid open as he approached – although he had noticed the lights already being on before his entry suggesting that someone was inside – but he just hadn’t expected it to be Psylocke. Ah yes, the ravishing Betsy Braddock; hot in any of her bodies and thanks to her extensive modelling work in a lifetime prior to the mutant struggles back in her native Britain, someone who Bobby Drake had many a guilty memory of teenage lust to conceal from the telepath… who was now of course dating one of his best friends. The multi-millionaire pretty boy.

With an unspoken curse aimed at Warren Worthington’s direction, he looked down at her leg and offered a somewhat sympathetic ”Hey Betsy… That looks painful?“

[Betsy Braddock]

With an unspoken curse aimed at Warren Worthington’s direction, he looked down at her leg and offered a somewhat sympathetic ”Hey Betsy… That looks painful?“

Betsy was resting when Bobby's voice reached her ears. She wasn't necessarily sleeping - she found it extremely hard to sleep with all the things in her mind and the worry about Logan and her own guilt over what seemed to be stirring inside of her for the short feral mutant when she was meant to be... well, involved. Taken. In love?

Opening her violet eyes, she looked at Bobby. A small, soft chuckle came out of her lips as she nodded."Always so observant, Bobby," she told him, managing to sitting up somewhat in her med bed. The leg had been taken care of by the auto-doc, now it was a matter of being able to walk. Which she hoped she could do somewhat soon.

The fact that the others had to leave to rescue Logan without her disturbed her greatly. She couldn't help to feel useless somehow, even though the wound had been superficial and she had held her own against thirty men with absolutely almost no scratch.

Thirty men. Armed men with telepathic scramblers. It made the British Asian telepath laugh. "So you came to keep me company, Bobby? That is so adorable of you," she told him with one of her smiles. Those that she knew had an effect on men if only she wanted it to have.

Men. And then her thoughts got scrambled again. Could she stay with Warren when she was now also thinking of another man? Was it fair on her boyfriend if her thoughts were not only her own? She let out a breath, trying to calm her thoughts and get her mind straight. "I suppose you have heard about Logan being taken? The others are on the trail to get him back."

There was a hint of guilt and concern in her voice that perhaps Bobby would catch.

[Rd Iceman]

“Always so observant, Bobby,"

”See, and people say I only think about myself.“ He replied as he hopped up to sit sideways on the bed next to hers; thankfully still turned off so it didn’t try to heal something that simply wasn’t wrong with the model of modern mutant perfection that now sat atop it.

"So you came to keep me company, Bobby? That is so adorable of you,"

”What can I say, I’m our resident candy striper.“ The longterm X-Man responded with a grin that soon slipped over to the creepy side as he followed it up with a ”So when did you want your sponge bath?“

Of course, he should have learnt his lesson by now of dropping in on girls taking up space in the med bay after the whole Emma Frost incident; Just served him right that trying a Snow White/Sleeping Beauty variant by ignoring ‘true love’ and just focussing on the kiss part of waking a girl from her coma. Yeah… except that the girls in the Grimm Fairy Tales were not telepathically endowed and would be able to take advantage of his lacklustre psychic shields and walk straight into his brain and take his body out for a joy ride over several states.

And he never even did get the kiss out of it.

"I suppose you have heard about Logan being taken? The others are on the trail to get him back."

”Taken? No…“ Their conversation had taken a distinct turn in direction, as Bobby met her question with a puzzled look. ”I saw Scott, like, ten minutes ago and he said the that Logan’s been missing for months. They couldn’t even find him with Cerebro. Nothing about a team going after him though?“

A team was already out searching for him? who? If this was them searching for a while, then considering his actions for the past forty years had managed to be passed off seemingly without record or report – and were a mystery still to the man himself – but if this was a new situation that had passed him by, then why hadn’t Scott called on him? ”Bets… how exactly did you hurt your leg?“

[Betsy Braddock]

”See, and people say I only think about myself.“

Betsy couldn't help but chuckle the moment Bobby spoke. When he sat on the bed next to her, she shook her head with a small grin on her lips. "Oh, Robert," she said, her voice playful as she placed a hand over her chest to indicate her heart. "I am honoured that I'm worthy of your attentions." It was obvious that Betsy's voice was playful and trying to be a little less worried or sounding so, at least. She wasn't quite sure how much she had actually accomplished it.

”What can I say, I’m our resident candy striper.“ The longterm X-Man responded with a grin that soon slipped over to the creepy side as he followed it up with a ”So when did you want your sponge bath?“

"And of course you are offering it out of your kind heart." She retorted quickly. Bobby Drake would always be Bobby Drake, she knew it that much. It was something she had gotten used to with the years spent with the X-Men."I'm afraid I have enough trouble as it is, Bobby, without the need of adding more. So I apologise, dear, but no sponge bath for you."

”Taken? No…“ Their conversation had taken a distinct turn in direction, as Bobby met her question with a puzzled look. ”I saw Scott, like, ten minutes ago and he said the that Logan’s been missing for months. They couldn’t even find him with Cerebro. Nothing about a team going after him though?“

The English telepath shook her head. "He's been back, trust me. I went out with him for a couple of beers and we got ambushed. It seemed like Weapon X people, as far as I could gather from them. Thirty soldiers and a small teenager girl that actually managed to best him. Then I was left with thirty soldiers and myself. All things considered, I think my current wound is nothing next to what could have happened if only I had been careless." She paused for a moment, shifting on the bed to a more comfortable position. "Scott's probably going to have a team going after him now. If he hasn't left already."

”Bets… how exactly did you hurt your leg?“

She turned to face Bobby now, her violet eyes serious and yet worried. "While Logan was fighting against this teenager girl, who somehow managed to win against him, I had to deal with thirty heavily-armed soldiers. My idea was to provide them distraction so Logan could finish with the girl. The main thing was, he never did. She somehow managed to knock him unconscious. And then, they took him away. And I was left with all the soldiers to myself. One managed to shoot at me, I moved in time to avoid a more serious injury. But I was bleeding, so I couldn't even get more information from the man."

The man she killed. Well, it was either her or him. No regrets.

This post has been edited by Betsy Braddock on Aug 29 2012, 01:32 PM

[Rd Iceman]

"He's been back, trust me. I went out with him for a couple of beers and we got ambushed. It seemed like Weapon X people, as far as I could gather from them. Thirty soldiers and a small teenager girl that actually managed to best him. Then I was left with thirty soldiers and myself. All things considered, I think my current wound is nothing next to what could have happened if only I had been careless. Scott's probably going to have a team going after him now. If he hasn't left already."

”Bets… how [i]exactly did you hurt your leg?“ So Logan was back then, and although Scott would never admit it to him, let alone himself for that matter, he must have been suspecting Jean might have been keeping it from him, given the diminutive Canadian’s pretty blatant pursuits of his surrogate big sister.

"While Logan was fighting against this teenager girl, who somehow managed to win against him, I had to deal with thirty heavily-armed soldiers. My idea was to provide them distraction so Logan could finish with the girl. The main thing was, he never did. She somehow managed to knock him unconscious. And then, they took him away. And I was left with all the soldiers to myself. One managed to shoot at me, I moved in time to avoid a more serious injury. But I was bleeding, so I couldn't even get more information from the man."

”Whoa whoa whoa, hold on.“ Because despite the severity and the implications of Betsy’s explanation, a grinning Drake had obviously focussed in on just one detail. ”Logan got taken down… by a girl. Oh that’s hilarious.“ And he would of course be saving it up for later; after Logan had managed to drag his rapidly healing carcass back to the mansion yet again he’d quiz him about it relentlessly to just make him relive this latest ignominious defeat ad infinitum. Or at least until he threatened to ventilate him.

Given what Betsy had been through herself though, after the initial wave of glee travelled over him, he swiftly remembered why she was now sitting in the bed, and his grin turned a little bit sheepish as he offered her a ”Sorry about the getting shot part though.“ by way of an apology. ”I can’t believe Scott has gone off without me though?“ Which left him space to dwell on the other matter – If Scott was leading the rescue wagon, why hadn’t he called on his services? It wasn’t like he didn’t know that he was back at the mansion and it was very unlike Summers to willingly allow anyone the afternoon off.

What else had happened since he was away? Despite his somewhat lackadaisical attitude to authority and training, which he knew irked the uptight one, they had teamed together for virtually his entire adult life and now their rapport in the field was pretty much second nature. And yet, here he was whilst Scott had took others out with him.

”So Logan got beaten up and kidnapped by a girl and Weapon X, Betsy got shot and now Scott took a team out to go and get him back.“ Bobby rattled if in quick succession before giving a shrug of his shoulders to accompany ”… without us.“

[Atomic Force]

CF: Underground Level . Danger Room . Touring Greatness Pt. 2

Jean entered just as Bobby uttered the words "Logan got taken down...by a girl. Oh that's hilarious." Her expression looked striken and her deep green hues darted from each person present, as though trying to fill in the blanks. She didn't need to do a second scan of the mansion and grounds (which she did) to click another piece in to place. Logan wasn't there. Betsy looked worse for wear.

”So Logan got beaten up and kidnapped by a girl and Weapon X, Betsy got shot and now Scott took a team out to go and get him back.“ Bobby rattled if in quick succession before giving a shrug of his shoulders to accompany ”… without us.“

A pit of stone dropped into her stomach and she gave a brief, irritated pulse through that ever-present link to her better (?) half. She didn't bother with words. The fact that Scott did not feel it prudent to give her some sort of indication...wait. That must have been the instructions that had filtered through the comm unit while she was in the middle of the tour. No excuse. They had damn link for God's sake. The striken look melted into something of irritation.

"You weren't the only one he left." First words spoken from her lips. She felt a headache beginning to brew behind her eyes, the first signs of strain for the day. Her insides felt cold and wobbly. She hadn't even known that Logan had returned and now he was captured by the organization of his nightmares. "I'm sorry if you are having to repeat yourself. I assume we don't have any update. And I likewise assume there is nothing we can do except wait for said update." Those were formed as rhetorical questions because she was sure that if they could do something, they would have.

How could she possible reconcile the myriad of emotions that she was experiencing at the moment. She started to pace in an effort to calm herself down. A slice of her mind was keeping track of the kids as they made their way back up to the ground floor. A slice was feeling hurt that Logan didn't let her know he had returned, a slice felt guilty that she felt that (did she really have rights to feel like he should let her know), give over a slice to anger that Scott would choose to not tell her directly what was going on - knowing that she would care (obviously his jealousy was filtering through - what more could she do other than marry him?), and lastly the familiar restlessness she started to feel when action needed to be taken and she was unable.

The end result was a giant steaming hot-mess of a Jean-pizza. She hadn't even thought to ask how Betsy was doing, such was her preoccupation. When she started to feel her powers prickle along her skin like a static charge, she closed her eyes, stopped pacing and took a deep, long, breath. Control. Counting, she struggled to retain an image of the facts. She couldn't do anything if she had a meltdown. She couldn't do anything if everyone thought she was going to have a meltdown. She pushed that ever-present 'P' word stigma to the back of her mind. When her eyes reopened, they were more clear and she seemed to have gained back some control.

"Ideas?"