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WHO: Jean Grey and Jonathan Crane
WHERE: Around Nonah
WHEN: Backdated to Mother's Day
WHAT: Jean's out and about and seems to pick up on the good doctor's questionable thoughts.
WARNINGS: none as of yet??

[ Jean can't really say that she's been in Nonah that much but with plans to move in with Erik soon... who happens to live in Nonah... she decides to explore, if you will. After all, what else is a teenager supposed to do when they've got some time to kill and money to spend? Maybe there's an arcade nearby? Of course, it's not the same without the others she's become friends with (Scott, Kurt, Peter, Jubliee, Ororo...) and it's almost a little weird to be out and about like this on her own, looking for something to do. But, hey, she's adjusting, getting used to it and she likes to think that she can handle something like going out on her own without anything really happening.

As luck would have it? She thinks that a little too soon and her telepathy decides to wander- reaching out here and there to any thoughts that might filter through the air and she might (accidentally) pick up on. She's used to just ignoring them... ignoring the voices that quietly whisper in the back of her mind when her telepathy does this and, with a little concentration, can actually push them out.

Unless said thoughts happen to be rather... troublesome or concerning or attached to a familiar voice. ]

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[Crane doesn't acknowledge Mother's Day. A childhood spent living under the thumb of a sadistic woman had instilled in him a strong sense of ambition and an even stronger feeling of revulsion towards the loving mother archetype. He walks into the arcade and surveys the crowd with a gaze both analytical and coldly disdainful. The sight of them all churns his stomach and the other side of himself itches inside his skin, as if he felt need to mock the sense of love and intimacy the day has filled these people with.

He could scare them all right now, if he chose to. Take their minds in one hand, their thoughts in another, and twist till they snapped. Make them pry their eyes away from their phones. Instead of hands grasping each other across the table, they would be coming up from the floor towards their feet, and they would kick and scream to escape before being dragged below the surface. Shattered plates of cafe food and broken cola bottles would litter the floor and all would be well.

It would be an incredible sight to behold. If he could just get over this infernal problem with Batman...]

[ It's moments like these when her telepathy wanders that Jean feels the most uncomfortable. Because to hear thoughts of someone's day or plans they have with a boyfriend or girlfriend... that's not really anything to be concerned with. But with what she's feeling right now... with what her telepathy is gently crawling towards and softly wrapping itself around, almost as if purposely searching it out is... concerning and it causes the redhead to stop in the arcade.

There's a moment where the power seems to blip in the arcade- it doesn't last any longer than a second and most don't even seem to notice that it flickered so quickly. But Jean swallows, not wanting to lose control of either of her so-called gifts and so, instead, she looks around the arcade, trying to pinpoint where she might be feeling these things.

That's when she decides to reach out with her mind. To home in on these uncomfortable glimpses and maybe even put a face to all of this. She gives a gentle but almost forceful nudge to Jonathan's mind then, as if to let him know that he's not alone even when surrounded by various people and games. ]

I can feel your thoughts, you know.

[No reaction. No emotion. Crane stands quietly as the lights flicker and he doesn't even seem to react to how they come back so quickly. His thoughts never waver from stuffing horror into all these people's throats and mouths - poetically so if they were entomophobic. It excites him. Breaking these healthy people down and reshaping them into something insane and unwell - it makes him curious.

But he'll be patient. He forces his thoughts to be calm and slowly rises from his hunched position over the sales counter, over in the corner.]

Good for you.

[He sounds so very, very bored. So defensive and petulant that it's almost like he's a child.]

But don't let me keep you from being on your way.

[ As if the things she could feel weren't enough to stop her, it's when she hears that voice trickle into her mind in response that she blinks and finds herself looking around the arcade.

Because it's familiar to her, one she's heard before somewhere and it takes her a moment until she can really place a face to it. ]

You're the one I spoke to before... [ She pauses, taking a moment to try and remember the name that had been given during their initial conversation when she first arrived here. ] ...the doctor.

[ That alone causes her to suddenly feel... uncertain. Here she had originally thought that he was, well, not one to have such certain thoughts and feelings? But to feel them... to have her telepathy more or less seek him out like that... she's not really sure what that means-- why there's a part of her that had crawled its way over towards those thoughts. It must be to help him, right? Of course, it's what the professor would do, wouldn't he?

She swallows and steps out into the arcade a little more to make herself visible, glancing around to try and spot him. ]

Why are you having such thoughts like that?

[Oh. Her.

His thoughts trail off, and as he judges the pool of subjects here to be redundant and worthless, void of potential, he does not bother to answer her at all. Months ago he had decided that there would be no more experiments because he could not incur the risk. The thought is disappointing - and it's enough to make him sigh with melancholy.

He returns to the desk and seats himself on a stool. A bit higher up, more visible.]

Because I chose to. Is that a problem?

[ Jean takes another moment, worrying her lower lip as she continues to glance around. The thing about the mind is that one has to be willing and open to receiving help. Resist? It makes things a little on the difficult side and if there's any sort of telepathic kick that one has with them, well, even more difficult and Jean doesn't really know just what exactly the good doctor here is capable of himself.

That's when she turns and catches sight of him sitting at the desk a little ways off, propped up some thanks to the height of a stool. Is he... maybe shorter than she originally thought? Doesn't really matter for the moment but she does look to him, seeming almost hesitant for a moment. ]

You tell me.

[ And that's when she gives another gentle nudge to his mind-- to those thoughts and feelings she had picked up on earlier, attempting to slip just a teensy bit further into his mind, curious to see if he's so willing or even able to push back. ]

It's not exactly close to Halloween or anything.

[Crane moves his hands, and for a second he brushes under his chin with a finger. His expression reveals nothing of the private, silent anger he feels at Jean's intrusion. He dimly reminds himself that with her being a telepath she can likely put a name to his feelings. It occurs to him then that he's been liberated from being yoked to his body and its troublesome emotions because he just doesn't care.]

I suppose not.

[A raspy voice whispers back. The thoughts he entertains about repaying her for this intrusion are entirely unpleasant, petty and vengeful. Xavier had once described his mind as a twisted up ball of darker psychosis, where thought processes jumped from one mental thread to the next in a lateral motion that barely touched a clear path of reasoning. There's only one clear line of thinking: fear is control and control is power.

Not capable of fighting back, sure, but is somebody uncapable of pushing back always a victim?]

[ There's something about the things she's felt from this thoughts and little daydream of sorts that have piqued Jean's interest-- drawn her mind to him and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders if it's really her that's taken an interest... or if it's something else... something she does her very best to suppress and ignore and pretend just doesn't exist while she's here.

But letting go as she has, at the request of the professor at that... it's caused something inside her to stir more freely than it once did and this may very well be a case of it stirring in the moment, reaching out and wanting to explore the things that it picks up through her. ]

You're not resisting?

[ She's almost... curious why he's not when she's been able to pick up on those things she felt from him, wondering for a moment if maybe he's unable to. But, even with not being a telepath, people can still have a sort of resistance or, at the very least, make it aware that they don't wish to have someone in their mind. ]

No. Should I?

[For years he has adapted to danger whilst living under its nose. Dealt with it existing all around him, from inmates to patients to parents and peers. Despite his position of being in the open, he had been in control - people had seen him as a demure man who kept to himself, and not this monster made of his fears that inflicted that same fear on others. It was the core of his self - and something which, unlike Jean, he didn't suppress and ignore and rend absent from his life.

He leans back in his stool and rests an arm over the counter. His fingernails tap against the surface in a slow, hypnotic rhythem. It seemed she was more comfortable with him resisting, so of course he was doing the opposite. It gave him interesting reactions to study, if nothing else.]

[ Should he? That's a good question in all honesty and Jean can't really seem to find an answer to that. In fact, she can't even really seem to find an answer for just why she wishes to prod so much into his mind as she is. The things she felt... that makes sense and really, anyone who picked up on that would be curious or even alarmed by such things, wouldn't they? And yet, still... still she finds herself gently and carefully pushing and nudging at his mind in some attempt to see just how much he'll allow her to really see and feel.

It's strange because... she knows she shouldn't, that she should stop and not try to pry as she is... but she can't help it. There's some part of her-- some part deep down that keeps pushing her to and quietly saying more. ]

Most people with those sorts of feeling probably would. They'd probably be worries about what others might think... how they might view them.

[Crane stays silent in response for what seems like an eternity. Most people, she might realize, are nothing like him. They scream and they cry. They worry so deeply and so long about people's attention, and their thoughts gnaw at them and tell them they're useless. He resists such pressures - social or otherwise - and chooses his course and pursues it.

That uniqueness explains her fascination, in part. But he's never been fond of people who acknowledge him as ordinary.]

Well, I'd like to say people are more complicated than that, but you're right. Most people are fickle. Their true characters only come out when they're scared.

[And how much he wants to do that right now...]

[ Even within the bustling arcade, Jean can only seem to focus on Crane seated there at that counter. Everyone else? They simply don't exist between them for the moment. That would be why she looks to Crane with a rather confused expression that quickly turns to something along the lines of disbelief... perhaps in him? ]

So is that what this is? Trying to see what scares people?

[ The tone of her voice that trickles within his mind is somehow more... firm- louder even as she stares to him with arms at her side. ]

And what scares you?

[ There's another rather firm nudge given at his mind, as if wanting to poke and prod and pull out whatever it is that she might be able to find that could come anywhere close to being considered a fear or at the very least uncomfortable to him. Invasive? Oh, quite. But somehow, she finds she can't seem to stop herself from wanting to do so, as if some other part of her is quietly telling her to keep pushing, keep poking, deeper, deeper, deeper... ]

[The voice that comes knocking at his mind, and burrows into all its dark places, has no way of knowing ahead of time that the fear its searching for doesn't live anywhere. Had he been subjected to it before? Oh, absolutely. But the feelings regarding his childhood are diluted and obscure. Cut free from his mind so they don't seem to be part of his mind at all.

It's boring to linger on it, really. He rests his elbow on the counter and leans on the ball of his fist.]

Boxed wine? Poor grammar? I can't decide, honestly.

[ Jean is only willing to push a little further into his mind before the lights in the arcade flicker again, just as quickly as before, nothing more than a blip that is almost unrecognizable save for a moment's pause in wondering if that just happened or not.

Rather than press into his mind and continue their conversation that way, she makes her way over to him then, her expression determined, fists even clenching at her sides before she comes to stop in front of the counter and looks to him with a rather displeased yet determined expression. ]

So is this what you do in your free time? Sit around and daydream about scaring people? What sort of true character comes out from that? [ A beat. ] I don't think most would consider that a normal hobby, you know.

[As her words wear on, he folds his hands in his lap and watches her intently. Whether her presence inside his head had vanished he couldn't determine - but he isn't going to live in fear of people intruding in his affairs because they need a boost to their ego.]

That is your opinion, not mine. [He taps his fingers on his knee.] Normality varies by person, time, situation and place. Normality is good. Abnormality is bad. Humans are good. imPorts are bad. [Humans. Mutants.] Anyway. The fact 'normal' people dislike my interests isn't my problem, is it?

[ Crane's words cause Jean to puff out a sigh. She can't say that he's a certain type of someone that she's come across before and yet, here she is, still standing there in front of him, wondering to herself why. ]

They're pretty heavy interests. [ Especially what she felt... what caught her attention. ] Not exactly what you hear every day.

[ Her arms cross and another sigh leaves her lips, her gaze drifting away from him while her thoughts still firmly remain in place around him. After all, she's not entirely sure what his gifts are as he is aware of hers... or at least, the telepathic part. ]

But I guess as long as you don't act on those daydreams then there's nothing really to be concerned about. Right?

Not at all. Though I believe it is customary to knock before opening somebody's mental door, Jean.

[Though he had to admit there was a difference between creating a panic and saying hello, he wasn't the one who had acted on those thoughts. His unspoken allegation is that her lack of control is quite concerning.]

Well don't be such a creep and maybe next time I will.

[ Arms remain crossed, Jean looking to Crane with a less than amused face at such a comment. Sure, she knows she had allowed her gift to gently push its way into his mind. But originally, it had been to find the source of said thoughts and feelings. Of course... when she had come to find just who they had been coming from, perhaps she should have withdrew. And yet... something inside her was still as curious as ever, not exactly prone to coming across such thoughts so out in the open like this. Because, clearly the good doctor is aware that telepaths exist and that some can be a little more nosy than others. ]

Don't worry. If that's what you think about, I don't really want to see what's inside your head.

Which is why you encroached deeper and deeper into its dark places. I understand.

[At this, he slides off his stool and clasps his hands behind his back. He doesn't stop moving, though he does slow his walk a little so he doesn't quite reach the arcade's entrance. This is a fascinating topic, really. She could have stopped. She could have controlled her curious urges. But she hadn't - because she hadn't been afraid.]

[ Jean stands there as he walks off towards the entrance, slow and steady, not quite making his exit just yet. It's strange to think that seeing the hands protruding from the floor and wrapping slender fingers around ankles and limbs and pulling them down didn't seem to frighten her but rather... interest her... no- concern her. Because what sort of person has thoughts like that? Takes delight in wanting to see others in terror, screaming and kicking, left completely and utterly powerless within their own minds. ]

I was going to say that I could try and help you with those thoughts of yours but somehow I get the feeling that you actually like them.

[He smooths his tie and then interlaces his fingers behind his back. Her idea he needs help is easily stuffed away by categorizing her into a little box like all the other dull people.

But although he continues to remain calm, his mind bears the tense edge that had set her upon exploring it the first time around.

A few moments pass in silence before he speaks.]

That is your opinion. And I prefer to help myself, thank you.

[ For Jean, she remains rather stubborn about this when, for anyone else, they might just drop it or find themselves frustrated with the good doctor here. Chalk it up to her wanting to do as the Professor does and helping others, especially concerning things of the mind. That's what she's going to go with... and not the fact that there's something deeper that catches her interest. Somewhere.

Dragging her teeth over her lower lip for a moment, she sighs before looking more determined with herself. ]

We all need help sometimes. Or an ear to listen to. Even doctors like yourself.

[That makes him stop.

After a few more moments, his demeanor goes from calm to coldness. He stares towards the people strolling outside and thinks about giving them something to acknowledge that would make them see the world the right way. And he does so with perfect physical control, which makes it seem he doesn't have any raging emotions above his neck.

He removes his glasses and says over his shoulder.]

Right. Give me a reason why I should let you help me, then.

Edited 2017-05-29 19:07 (UTC)

[ Jean finds herself stopping a little ways behind Crane though, as before, still keeps her thoughts around her... not exactly a shield but more an awareness of anyone and everyone in this arcade with them, including Crane himself.

It's after a moment of his question towards her that she glances off to one of the games in the room before she looks back to Crane's back with a bit of a smile. ]

Because I'm not boxed wine or poor grammar.

[ So there's no reason to be afraid of her, right? ]

[When she puts that out in the open, he tosses the idea about. He doesn't like it much, but he can make use of it, and it wouldn't be the first time someone had unearthed a few facts.

For the first time in this conversation, he smiles a little.]

Alright then. But I have two conditions.

[ She's not entirely sure just what she expected when she had more or less offered to assist the good doctor here with his... troubled mind, if that's what one wished to call it. But for him to seemingly agree to it, well... that's certainly something and Jean looks to him with a rather curious expression. Conditions? Well, when it comes to the mind, she gets it and why one might want certain boundaries, of sorts, in place.

So, she more or less agrees to that. ]

Ok. What are they?

Our meetings stay entirely on topic. I also expect you to return the favour, manners included. [He basically wants her to open up as well.] Also we are to hold our talks with no witnesses present.

My second condition is that you tell me what scares you. And I will know if you are lying..

[ There's a moment where Jean almost wonders if this might be a bad idea as he lays out his conditions for this. However, at least on the surface, they don't seem to be too demanding or concerning and so she finds herself glancing off to the side for a moment, as if considering his so-called terms. ]

Not one for idle chit chat, got it.

[ It's the second condition, however, that has her glance back to him. It's after a moment of hesitation that she purses her lips and then: ]

Fine. [ Spoken rather determined. ] Sounds fair to me.

[There are few people he's ever complimented - and he isn't going to start now - but he appreciates people who don't play the coward. Of course, he doesn't appreciate it when they puff up with bravado. In this case it's the former. He actually bothers to watch her because of it.]

That's great. [Said rather dryly.] Would you by any chance be free for lunch tomorrow?

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