Master EffeX

Original Plots Interest Check

I don't know that I can commit to another RP at the moment, but just wanted to say I love the concept / pitch for "Case Closed". And now I envy your pitching skills, too. xD

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Jaclyn "OfAll" Chreyz

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Location: X Mansion
Skills: Power Mimicry
Current Outfit (magic): two piece gown + embellished collar

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Turning her eyes from Max's newly opened portal, Jaclyn sported a mild smile at his comment of them making it sound so mysterious. She was acting under the assumption an Asgardian wouldn't know what "Clue" was, which Klara confirmed later.

First she caused Jaclyn's smile to shift to shared pleasure at Klara's delight of Perry's costume, and Klara's own sparkle mentality. To herself, Jaclyn had to disagree that messing around with magic was "always fun" and that controlling water and the oceans was lame. While she personally wouldn't want to control the oceans -she could disrupt the underwater environment and marine life, to say the least- she thought controlling water in general had all sorts of potential.

It seemed to Jaclyn that Edus was maybe considering potential too--in the negative and as it pertained to their game.

"It would be no intrusion, she added welcomingly to his spoken thought of Klara wanting to join them. Reflecting on the two different first impressions she just received of the Asgardian: the one when she didn't speak, and now when she did.

X-Men: GenetiX

Logan kept up, all right.

Thinking at first she wasn't even going to acknowledge him, as if he were some annoying stray that if she just ignored, maybe it would leave her alone.

But for one thing, Logan knew Xavier -to say nothing of anyone else- wouldn't be too pleased if he did just say "screw it" and left the kid to her own devices. For another, he was interested, for his own reasons, in where exactly she was going and to do exactly what.

"Her own devices" was the correct phrase.

Logan soon found himself observing a cavalcade of would-be contraption pieces as she finally gave a response to his question about Umbra. What she was making he couldn't even fathom to guess by the parts. Though he had an idea what type of object they were going to become. Probably, it wasn't a good idea. But if Chuck didn't want his kid manufacturing her own weaponry, that was his problem to sort out properly next time.

Though, if Logan was being honest with himself, there was something unsettling about the display. He knew at any moment those blitzing drill bits could be turned his way, but that wasn't it. The thought landed as her project settled into form in what seemed both effortless and instantaneous: this kid was a weapon in more ways than he was. She could vicarate you same as he could, except she could do it gut-by-gut, knowing exactly how everything fit together--or could be torn apart.

Or maybe not. But she certainly had the mind for it.

"Which brings us back to," standing with his arms folded, he shifted his eyes from the rifle to its maker, "you lookin' to do it all yourself? And is it really what you want? Now if I was Chuck that question would be some character test, but I'm really asking. In case I didn't make myself clear, I don't have a problem makin' sure those fucks choke on their last breaths. You can scan my mind and see my track record, then leave it to me and put all that behind you already. Start tryin'a piece together what it means to live as a person after you've been a weapon." On the words 'piece together' he nodded towards the "rifle". It would take a similar act of assembly, though with far more effort. Far more time. And it would begin with a disassembling. She could scan his mind for his experience on that, too. Not to relate to him in any way -he was possibly the only one here without relating on the mind- but to know he was legit.

X-Men: GenetiX

Xavier had been observing Ryder. For his own part, he could sense an indescribably strong output of psychic energy had occurred here, and had the feeling Ryder received, shall we say, much more than a sense. That was something to pursue, whether in thought or conversation, later. More pressing were the emotions stirred thereafter. He watched his daughter stalk after Cyclops, though trusted her emotional state, for the moment, to his X-Men -Wolverine having also headed inside; in part knowing how Jean would be feeling right now, and in part because he didn't like the aggression emanating from the younger psychic.

"Hank, how long ago was the departure?"

"Long enough that we would be looking for fog in a cloud, to turn a phrase. It was Jean who sounded the alarm, not our airspace surveillance system.
If both our aircraft weren't in the field at the time, pursuit could've been considered."

"Very well. See to the students with Ororo," he gave a directing nod to Storm.

"I'd been about to deliver the all-clear when I heard the blackbird's approach," Hank responded by way of affirmation as he went off with Storm.

At as best a pace as he could, Xavier then headed into the Mansion.
Though he had a different destination in mind than the library.

---

Cyclops, while still on the way there, removed the upper -blood stained- portion of his uniform, then slowed his pace once he came to the door so as not to burst in.

Jean was laying on a sofa with one arm across her forehead.
The other almost clutching her midsection.

She looked up from her muttering as Scott came to kneel in front of her.
Jean didn't need him to say anything to know he knew what she was talking about. She saw it in his face.

She opened her mouth to say something,
but it was Ryder's voice that was heard.

"That wasn't the pla-" Jean -easing into a sitting position- started to assert, but Ryder wasn't giving her a chance to get a word in edgewise. Instead Jean listened with a bothered expression that clearly conveyed she didn't need Ryder to throw these words at her: they were already exactly what were going through her head. A lion kicked when it's down.

Scott couldn't take it.
In one motion he was up and facing Ryder --you didn't need to see his eyes to know he was glaring. The contortions of his face, tensing of his muscles, closing of his fists. His emotions were clear. Yet figuratively he bit his tongue. Wrestling, in the span of seconds, with what you could call an imagined chain of reaction. "You don't know a damn thing you're talking about!" he wanted to close the distance between and say straight to her face. Yes- Ryder certainly did when it came to the Umbra agents. But no- she certainly did not when it came to Jean. Nor "these people", had he been able to know what her present thoughts were on them. Fight for survival? Have everything held just out of reach until it was taken by force? Her life and theirs weren't painted by so different a brush, only in different shades.

But next in the chain would be Ryder's reaction to his, and honestly where would that go?
No place productive. More likely counter-so.

Ryder's parting words shifted things, however, and he did begin to stride after her-

Wolverine, knowing as better as Cyclops, hadn't stopped Ryder despite wanting to sort her out himself for calling Jean stupid.
But he did get in the way of Scott -"Get off! Ryder loose on a revenge spree is the las--"

"I'll head off whatever needs to be. Take care of your own business." He cast a look of certain care towards Jean, and left.
He had a feeling about something that he blamed Scott for. Forget about "it takes two to tango".

"I didn't mean for this outcome--I. . ." Some mix of desperation and anger flashed in her eyes. "I just wanted this all to finally stop."

He looked down to where both her hands now clutched, bringing one of his to hers and the other to her upper arm at the same time he looked back up to speak, but his lips hardly had a chance to move when Jean spoke again: "There was zero sense to my actions! This will become a wildfire." Her eyes shifted back and forth as if the scenes were already playing out before them. "-I don't know what came over me. . ." she admitted in a whisper. Fear flooding over her previous emotions.

"Jean, listen to m-"

"It was like years ago. . .though I didn't feel the Phoenix with me. . ." finally, she met his "eyes" again. "Maybe that was more me than we'd thought."

In an instant he was holding her close. "That was never you."

"This was."

"-was not the same. You kept in control, here." He could feel her shaking her head against his. "We're going to. Ryder has the right idea making the next move ahead of theirs." Jean pushed out of the embrace.

"We can't let a confrontation between them happen again."
She fought to interrupt the memory of the last time, already feeling sick.

"Without question. Which makes Ryder herself the fallout we'll be fighting against."

"There's no way we can convince her we'll handle this." She was speaking around how they'd likely really be fighting Ryder. Her hand rising to her forehead as she stepped aside from Scott, needing to move yet halting right after; her thoughts manifesting in her body: where could they move from here?

---

"Hey, kid!" Wolverine caught up with Ryder. "If you're thinkin'a recreatin' that scene you left back in the forest, you should know: it could've been mistaken for one of mine." He gave her a significant look. "You're not the only one who's got a penchant for exacting revenge. And I don't got Jeannie's moral compass, either. So, anything else that might be good to know about Umbra? I mean if that prison of yours was only one facility housing those 'roaches, you can't be in two places at once. . .Though I wouldn't put it past ya'."

X-Men: GenetiX

Xavier quietly smiled. For as much as he'd been around youth in his time, he didn't need to be a telepath to know when one didn't desire to talk; even one as otherwise incomparable to the usual as Ryder. He could tell, too, she was mulling something over. Really that could be described as her personality. It was clear since they first met she was the type who lived in her mind. How, really, could she be anything else given the way her "life" was.

All things considered, though, Xavier couldn't help feeling a kinship. A thinker like himself. An analyzer.
If she gave him the time of day, and had the emotional awareness, she might've picked up on what of his deep relief that she was safe was showing on his face.

He left her to whatever mental analytics she had going on in the present moment, and turned his head towards a side window. Only to shift attention forward in the next second as, Storm providing cover, there wasn't anything to see out anywhere besides the cockpit windows, where infrared view had been engaged.

Xavier wasn't really interested in taking in his surroundings, anyway. Prompted by Ryder into a place of his own mind. Though he came to observe when Cyclops made an attempt to communicate to the Mansion. There was no response.

He and Storm exchanged a look. Though really, there could be any of a number of reasons why Jean or Beast may've been taken away from monitoring the lines. At least as many reasons as they had kids at the school.

As they flew on, however, Scott started to feel unsettled. Somehow in a way that seemed divorced from his rationale. He found the feeling growing the closer they came to home, and by the time they were descending towards the Mansion -Storm's fog long since cleared- he had both an answer and a further question about it.

The Mansion grounds were not as they'd left them.

"What the hell happened here?"

Multiple trees were felled. There were divots the length of trenches in places. The water in the lake seemed lower.
Was this the result of some students' powers, or the students themselves, getting out of control?

Another look was exchanged between Cyclops and Storm.
Neither thought that to be the case.

They skipped the hanger and came to land straight on the grass behind the Mansion so they could check things out directly.

One of the balconies laid in ruin, as well,

"Hank. What happened?" Scott demanded as soon as he saw the beastly X-Man coming towards them.

"Was anyone hurt?"

There was one in the return party who wouldn't require his explanation.
As Ryder disembarked from the jet, it would be as though, with each step, she was wading into a memory.

It would play out before her as though someone had started a film in her brain and her eyes were the projectors, the scenes hers alone to see, and not by anyone's intent; an imprint which psychically filled the air.

Vehicles not only halted and brought down, but deconstructed. Reassembled into crude, new vessels around those who had vacated them, their transport now becoming their prisons --flung around like playthings. There was a certain control to these volleys. They weren't intended to pulverize those inside, only bang them up. Just the start of a ploy to scare them--terrify them into waking up to what could, easily, happen.

Ryder would further see, as if it were a digital rendering of a possible scenario, transparent bricks jetting out from the Mansion's walls to become projectiles --narrowly missing heads, missing limbs; to become other possible prisons --threatening burials as would-be runners were suddenly made to forget how to move their legs, and they'd trip, staring up at the bricks they waited to come down upon them.

There would be no doubt to Ryder's mind that these "projections" were in fact what had happened. Evidence since erased by the bricks' return to their starting points, the Mansion made whole again. Though much grass was trampled or torn up.

What Ryder was witnessing had been, you could say, Jean Grey's game of chess.
Umbra operatives had come to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, seeking one in particular, and Jean Grey had showed them a few different ways this game could play out. Showed them in a mixed theoretical and literal way: besides the aforementioned scenarios, helicopter blades were detached, turned on their sides and made to come at former pilots like saws --tearing up the ground though no flesh. Spheres of lake water encasing their heads like perverted diving helmets, starving them of their oxygen, though not too far.

When she was through with the mixed mental/physical game, she went full mental.

Inverting fear as she caused them to see each other as Ryder. To let them sit with the knowledge of how merciless their colleagues could be towards their "target", and feel the terror of being that target themselves. Their weapons forced on each other, even fired, though the projectiles controlled. Thrown away with the illusions as instantly as if someone had snapped their fingers to bring daydreamers to attention.

In other words, Jean literally only scratched their surfaces. Ultimately fighting them with psychological warfare; shaking them to the cores that might've been thought nonexistent within them. Playing it all as merely a demonstration game. Nothing besides superficial wounds being actually inflicted, physically speaking. Though psychically, in every case, Jean Grey made certain they wouldn't just be left to imagine the myriad horrors that could've befallen them. Using a trick of the mind she'd had them feel as though they had gotten crushed by metal prisons; hacked by helicopter blades; buried by bricks; shot with whatever weapons they were packing; or flattened into bloody pulps by tree trunks used like natural hammers striking humanoid nails.

Ryder would perceive these psychic remnants as impossible-to-ignore though vague sensations of discomfort in the relative places of her own body, with a final one being like a mild loosening of limbs akin to turning a screwdriver not even one full turn on a screw. Enough to demonstrate that it could keep going and unseat the screw, yet not actually causing any disconnection. Jean Grey had reminded her combatants that, just like her work on the Mansion's facade, she could tear them limb from limb if she so chose. She could've done everything in their minds, yet wanted them to know she wasn't merely an illusionist, hence the tandem work with her telekinesis.

Finally, Ryder would see how Jean had brought down the balcony. She wouldn't perceive an image of Jean, but by the residual emanations of power it would be clear that's where she had been standing the entire time. The only act that didn't seem intentional, hence it requiring reconstruction; not something she could simply return to place like the bricks.

And this, along with the few felled trees and stretch of scratched earth, was the only evidence of what had transpired that anyone else could see.

The visuals and sensations, the lingering potential of Jean Grey's power, hung in the air for only Ryder to perceive.
Beyond even the perception of the more developed telepathic mind to whom hers was related, as this potential was of the kind she, herself, had realized back in the Black Forest.

In other words, it was as though Ryder's mind had looked into a mirror. It wasn't a clear reflection. Yet there on the surface was a handprint hers could fit against.

A recognition that Jean Grey and Ryder, if only in this one respect, weren't so different.
Except for the choices they made with their power,
and the impact those choices had on them.

The Beast had finished summarizing the event in as much time as it took Ryder to experience it. Now he concluded with the only information that sat outside of that experience: "Jean managed to telekinetically break her fall, but seemed, then, in a different place mentally. She having already reassembled the Umbra aircraft sometime earlier in her display, they took advantage of the moment to retreat as suddenly as they had assaulted --which fortunately hadn't been so sudden that we couldn't gather the students in the Disaster Shelter."

"Where is she?!"

"Laying down in the main library. I've already--"

He didn't get to finish. Cyclops was already hurrying there.

"They're going to come back. . ." He -and anyone else who came- would find Jean speaking in a low tone.
"They're going to come back and now they know all they have to account for. . ."

She didn't know what terrified her more:

• the thought of how they might go about doing that,
  or how, given she could've stopped them from getting away with this knowledge, whether by simple detainment or by following through
• the thought that she should've.

X-Men: GenetiX

"What kinda' scrape did you get into?" Wolverine asked Cyclops dispassionately, noting his damaged uniform with the dried blood on it.

"Are you hurt, Cyclops?"

"I was. Though I'm fine, now."

It was a somewhat puzzling response, though Storm didn't ask for details.

Xavier was about to confirm Ryder was alright when she spoke first, catching their collective attention even more so as she made her remarkable jump. For the seconds before they realized where she'd landed, a unified thought went through their minds: 'Is she intending to jump her way across the Atlantic?'

The X-Men aside, it was almost like a game of chess.
Magneto had made his play, seeing what the girl would do.

He'd been careful. He knew the X-Men were arriving and timed his disassembly of the initial jet just so. Still, as he used his powers to manage the carelessly discarded shrapnel, preventing it from causing any harm to citizens or the structures of their home -it almost coming off to the less worldly as some planned show- he felt the merest elicitation of fear.

He'd nearly played his hand too arrogantly.
This new charge of Xavier's was one not to be messed with, the likes of which Magneto hadn't witnessed before.
He'd gotten the information he'd wanted. Though, like the fear, there was a degree of...regret.

"Watch yourself with this one, Charles." Though Magneto wasn't making the kind of warning you'd think. "Not every mutant is meant to be one of your X-Men." By this he meant a student made to conform to the ideals with which Xavier shouldered them. Magneto liked what he saw in Ryder.

Still, his flicker of regret didn't extend to her leaving this island. As far as he was concerned now, no further association between Ryder and the nation of Genosha need be had, and he gave her no further acknowledgement.

He did have a final one for Cyclops, however. "Meeting" the boy's eyes as he crossed towards the jet, and giving him a communicative look. "It may also be a wise idea to have them practice planning flight paths." He kept his eyes on Cyclops despite still speaking to Charles, then rose up by his magnetism and hovered high above the city, extending his enshrouding "bubble" with him as he went. As far as he could see, new sentinels hadn't yet replaced the destroyed.

The X-Men were starring at what Ryder had reclaimed. It put the dots together for Wolverine and Storm, though was a sight, to be sure; Wolverine actually smirked. Xavier and Cyclops were reminded of the stuff she had gathered after running away from Umbra, though Xavier was more eyeing Ryder herself; not liking the implications of her words as they pertained to his old friend, and Cyclops' attention was half internal; Magneto's closing words stirring his guilt.

Storm half-turned back towards the jet, then paused. "Professor. Would you say it is an opportune time for one of us to see the life Magneto has made here?"

"Yes, in fact I do. We can collect you on our way back."

"Actually, we won't be making that way. Hank will have to hit the work bench, again." He had noticed among the jet debris the device they had been delivering to Moira. It was a delicate sort, and Cyclops was pretty sure the damage had been incurred when the sentinel had destabilized the jet. "And we might need you for cover," he added to Storm. "According to Magneto, sentinel encounters are likely around here."

"Another time," Storm then agreed with a hint of wistfulness, as they made to re-board the jet.

"Back home then, I guess. You up for flyin' this thing? I can't stand playin' co-pilot."

In answer, Cyclops proceeded to the cockpit. Though with his hand on the chairback, he paused, looking back to where Xavier was situating himself. "I'm sorry, Professor." He summed up what had happened.

"No lasting harm seems to have been done," he stated forgivingly, his eyes returning to Ryder who clearly was no worse for wear. "To either of you, anyway." This was in reference to the remains of the sentinel.

The lightness of his comment didn't land for Cyclops, and he just took his seat. Another question came into his head though, which he voiced: "You knew something happened through Jean, didn't you?"

"Yes. Either she or Hank should be be monitoring communications for our word."

Cyclops nodded. He'd get the message out they were fine and returning once the jet was in the air.
He and Storm proceeded to engage it for take off.

Once they were at quiet cruising altitude, Xavier spoke to Ryder: "Merely an object of interest, or a reminder of which one of you came out of the confrontation?" he asked of her prize, indicating it via a nod towards the jet's cargo area. It was an indirect way of asking Ryder how her first encounter with a sentinel has left her feeling.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Jaclyn "OfAll" Chreyz

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Location: X Mansion
Skills: Power Mimicry

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It seemed Jaclyn wasn't the only one whose mind could be caught in a negative direction, as something about Max's disposition seemed to shift, suddenly. Yet just as soon, it flickered in another direction. Internally or otherwise, she didn't question it. After what they'd recently been through, anything could account for it, and in fact it caused her mind to shift again as well, given one reason: here they were about to play a game, just enjoy life, while so many others had been stripped away. . .

She did a slow kind of blink, like both giving the lost a moment of her thoughts and giving herself permission not to be, well, stuck on this current track of thinking.

It wasn't too hard to, once again, shift back to Clue, as her teammates' attire changed due to Max's magic.
Jaclyn had to smile. She gave a complimentary kind of nod to Max; impressed.

Now it was her turn. "In that case, I feel in the mode for Plum." She couldn't remember the characteristics of that person in the game, but going by the colour that one stood out to her once Mira had explained which were left. In the space of a thought, Jaclyn's outfit changed to a two piece gown with an embellished collar.

It skewed more '30s than '20s, but Jaclyn liked the flare anyway, and in play struck a pompous pose for all-of-a-second.
She didn't typically wear dresses, but it was always fun to dress-up.

Wouldn't you know, at that moment as everyone was now clad in past-era attire, Ed was making introductions for Klara. Jaclyn turned in their direction, feeling a little embarrassed yet in good humour. "Hi, Klara." She moved, on the cusp of extending her hand to shake, but then realized that might not be an Asgardian custom and brought her hand back to her own side. "It's nice to meet you. We're just setting up for a kind of entertainment." She said, gesturing loosely to her and the others' outfits.
It was possible Klara had observed at least one of their outfits in the change-over process, and the thought landed in Jaclyn's head of an outsider thinking, maybe people from Earth regularly changed their attire that way.

X-Men: GenetiX

Cyclops filed away what Magneto had put into his mind to ruminate on later, focusing on task- when he found someone else's thoughts suddenly put into his head. Again he experienced the peculiar sensation like his head was suddenly too tight- like Ryder's mental voice was no more agreeable to being confined than she was in body.

It wasn't painful. More like vaguely uncomfortable.

He instinctually braced himself for what was going to follow "I already ripped one", but was relieved she was only referring to the sentinels. And, she'd said the jet could fly. Had she landed it here? If she had, he would be impressed. Though, what hadn't Ryder proved capable of in just the short time they'd been acquainted?

Cyclops had paused when her voice sounded in his head and he now resumed looking around. It took only another minute or so before he saw her coming around a building about a half block's distance away.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he stated once he'd come to be standing in front of her. Assessing her visually she certainly looked to have been spared any further harm. His sense of remorse was alleviated.

Still. . .he had been responsible for Ryder and blew it. Again.

He'd learned some time ago that it didn't matter how prepared you were, didn't matter if you did everything right, somethings were not in your control. No matter how much you took in your hands, something was always out of them.

But that concept didn't apply here, as Cyclops didn't feel he had done everything right - he hadn't checked all the boxes that he was able to check. Not in his opinion.

Which seemed to be a refrain with Ryder.

If he'd done a better job intercepting her at Umbra, she wouldn't have made it to town which resulted in injury to herself as well as to others. If he'd been better prepared up front, he wouldn't have gotten himself compromised nor would he have been away from Jean which, unsettling circumstances notwithstanding, lead to his rookie level mistake of allowing his attention to be divided. To the subsequent result of Ryder getting away from them -from him, again- and the very final consequence of what happened in the black forest.

And now? He'd been alert and task-focused enough, but still the jet went down. He went down.
If Ryder had been a causality he didn't think he could be convinced it wasn't by his failing.

At least that wasn't the reality he was facing.

"We can go. . .Where's the jet?" Sure the nurse had told him he should stay with them for the day, but he felt fine enough. He wasn't going to make another mistake by testing what patience of Ryder's he felt she had left. From what little he'd glimpsed, Magneto did appear to have a good, even a great thing, going here.

There was just one problem as it pertained to their leaving.
No sooner had Cyclops asked the question when something caught his eye, and there, traveling over their heads in the direction Cyclops had just come, was the unmistakable side of a Lockheed SR-71.

Having turned with its movement, Cyclops watched as it came to rest by where he'd left Magneto, who now repurposed it for the building he was erecting.

Cyclops strode back over as other pieces of the jet sailed overhead; to the fascination of the soccer kids.

"I thought you were giving us a choice to stay?" Anger flashed in his face and his tone.

"I didn't arrive where I am today by not taking advantage of what I was given. I do thank you for your gift of metal."

His smug smile and tone was like kindling to Cyclops' emotion, but he kept it in check.
"How can I get message out from here?"

"You needn't bother." At this Magneto looked up, which caused Cyclops' gaze to go skywards as well, just in time to see the expanse of blue clouding over too suddenly to be a natural change of the weather.

Magneto paused his construction to grab at the sky, and within moments the slate grey clouds gave way to charcoal black and took shape; a piece of the sky coming down on the city until it became apparent it was the X-Men's second jet.

Magneto had felt it resist before it had surrendered, those on board clearly realizing this was where they'd been headed all along to pick up their strays.

To the further fascination of the young and growing interest of the older, he landed the jet right there in the city square.
Its engines were already off.

Storm disembarked, returning the heavens to their previous state of clarity as the X-Men now had the knowledge that Magneto must have his own means of keeping undetected; they hadn't known they were coming up on Genosha until they'd felt his magnetic pull.

Wolverine followed, looking around like 'what is this joint?'

And next down the ramp, surprisingly, was Xavier. "We didn't know what happened to you," he stated, almost by way of greeting as his eyes fell on Cyclops then set on Ryder; a certain look crossing his face. He had wanted to see for himself that she was alright, not wait passively for the information to be conveyed. The time for him being a distance away from her life had passed.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Jaclyn "OfAll" Chreyz

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Location: X Mansion
Skills: Power Mimicry

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---

Jaclyn was impressed.
So glitter was an actual thing with Klara, and that individual who came down the hall was her. Somehow, besides the shining orb, Jaclyn wouldn't have pegged her as the glitter, tackling-hug one. That seemed more. . .social and exuberant than the wordless, singularly-focused person who had gone past them. But then, people often didn't fit any kind of template.

She smiled softly to herself at this kind of lived reminder of such.

She'd noticed Mira glance in the direction of the library and Avery come out. Jaclyn felt something there, but nothing that was her business. She started walking in the direction that would take them downstairs. "So we haven't finished picking characters," she recalled, mind back on Clue. "It's been a while since I played. And there are different versions, aren't there? I forget who all there is."

X-Men: GenetiX

If someone like Xavier or Jean spoke to Cyclops telepathically, that was a good indicator they were keeping enough of a tap on his mind, at least for the following few moments, that he could think back to them.

He had a feeling Ryder wasn't that kind of telepath. That she preferred the "call" to be one-way, and frankly, having her in his head was rather a different experience. . .he made no effort to respond. Both had enough intel on the other, for now: Ryder knew he was in the city. Now he knew she was, too -sounding no worse for wear. She wanted him to figure something out. Was this Ryder trusting him? Or was this a warning that if he didn't want her brand of a solution, he had better be the first to come to one. . .his mind became suffused with a sensation of artificial darkness, some kind of void. . .Wait, this wasn't--

Next thing he knew, clarity came like waking from a dream.
Indeed, from a lain position, Cyclops took in his surroundings and the condition of his body. He felt surprisingly little pain, and not like he was on medication for that.
There was someone there.

They met his gaze -as well as it could be met, anyway, given his visor. "Gen has used her abilities -a projected healing factor- to treat your injuries. It still takes time, so you should stay with us for the day at least."

"A projected healing factor?" He understood what this other mutant meant by it, but having not encountered such a mutation before, it interested him.

"It requires Gen to touch the point of injury, so we did have to perform surgery so she had access to your lung and ribs, though she healed the incision points on her way back out."

They had, of course, removed the chest portion of Cyclops' uniform, so presently he looked down at his bare skin, surprised to find that he could only find faint traces of any procedure--like wounds at a healed-over stage of a much later point. "How long has it been since I was brought here?"

"Three quarters of an hour."

Cyclops was impressed. This must be what it feels like to be Logan.
"Someone else arrived here after me," he got back to business, being careful as he transitioned into an upright position, though he hardly felt the need to be.
"Do you know where they are?" He slide his legs off the padded medical table and was standing a second later.

The other mutant shook their head. "No one else has been brought to us. You're fine to go look for them."

Even without their permission, that was exactly what Cyclops intended to do. "Thank you." He looked around, and not seeing any other mutant, he added,
"thank Gen for me." At their nod, he suited back up -damaged though his uniform now was- and left.

His second surprise came when he happened on Magneto after only a couple minutes of looking around.
The Master of Magnetism appeared to be in the middle of constructing some other type of building, with all the ease and creative flex as a hobby sculptor.
Cyclops had paused and was at an oblique angle to him, but Magneto caught sight of the X-Man. "Up and about, I see."

Another moment of a measured look, part on Magneto himself and part on his work, Cyclops walked closer. "I was flying with someone. Where are they?"

"Wandering freely around here, where they desire not to be. Perhaps she'll learn, though Charles has never been much for instilling free thinking."
He turned his attention back to his task.

Maybe a 'thanks' for orchestrating his medical aid would've made it past Cyclops' lips had it not been for this slight against the Professor. Instead he wordlessly left the older man to his construction. 'You don't bother me, I won't bother you,' the silence seemed to say.

Though Magneto spoke before he got too far:
"I would be more careful if I were you. . .leaving a family behind."

It took just a couple seconds for Cyclops to understand what, specifically, Magneto was referring to.
In the same moment, his expression contorted. "If that's meant as a threat, Magneto-"

"It's not. . .I had, once, what you're preparing for." Magneto looked straight at him. You should seriously consider making this where that life starts.
Give your family the chance mine wasn't allowed."

Cyclops looked upon him like he was seeing someone other than the once leader of the Brotherhood. . .somewhat.
Behind his visor his gaze lowered as his thoughts went to the subject(s) of the conversation.

"You're familiar now with the mutant medical care we have. What human hospital exists that you know of, that would consent to bringing another of our kind into what they believe to be their world?" At this, Magneto turned away. "The invitation is extended indefinitely. When you've made the correct choice, get word to me and I'll ensure you safe passage. As I've already told your feisty charge, sentinels patrol these skies in search of their Atlantis."

Cyclops continued on to find Ryder, feeling for once, that Magneto had actually given him something worth thinking about.
And he didn't like any bit of that.