2010-01-19: Clearing Your Thoughts


Dallas_icon.jpg Addison_icon.jpg

Summary: Help is offered and politely refused. Pointed questions are asked.

Date: January 19, 2010

Log Title Clearing Your Thoughts

Rating: PG.

Xavier Mansion - Dallas and Trey's Room

Slightly bigger than the old room, the new rooms fit two students comfortably. Each room has off white walls with a dark brown carpet. There is one window in the middle of the wall that looks out over the grounds. Each room has two beds, two dressers, two desks and two closets, one for each student.

Dallas is back on the computer with several browser windows open. The main thrust of the websites seem to be medical and scientific papers about mutation, secondary mutation and various ways mutants have been 'altered' by outside forces. Most of it is obviously over his head, as a pair of Dr. McCoy's books on biology and genetics would testify, laying open to the glossaries in the back. He's taking notes as he tries to puzzle through the medical terminology. Other than the rumpling from the books, his bed is neatly made. In contrast, Dallas is a little seedy looking, fatigued and obviously not yet showered from the mid-day workout. Of course, he's also supposed to be in class.

It doesn't take a second, but suddenly, the image of Addison appears in Dallas's room. "Sorry to disturb you." He says, softly. Not physically there at all. His mental appearance would match his physical if anyone had seen him in the past couple of days. Worn. Tired. Unshaven. Unkempt. "I wanted to talk to you for a few moments. But… I can't really leave Cerebra right now."

Dallas blinks and turns off the computer quickly as he turns in his chair. He gives the apparition a surprised look and and his tone is obscurely hesitant as he says, "Ah, I didn't know you could do that. The whole 'astral projection' bit, right? Coyote does that." He looks around, as though the room is a mess and grabs a set of jogging pants off the floor by his bed, as though straightening up. And if, when he tosses them on the bed, they cover those books? Total coincidence. "What's up?"

"You're mentally tense. Something bad happened. I don't know what. But, I'm going to make the same offer to you that I made to Robyn. I can… help you forget it. To get it out of your mind." Addison says plainly. "Most telepaths can astral project. Robyn can do it too, and he's not a full telepath." He explains. Addison does see things, but it's not his place. That's for someone else to discuss. "I simply wanted to see if you want it gone or if you feel you can deal with it now. Or even if you just want to let it go for a while and then deal with it after this mess is over."

Dallas pauses a long moment and then shakes his head. "No." And then a bit less adamantly, "No thank you. It wouldn't solve the problem. I'd just forget that there /is/ a problem until the next time I'm too weak." He stands, stretching, not having realized how stiff and tired he still is, even with the sunburn and bruises fading from his altercation. "I need to remember because failing drives you to do better. /Be/ better. And so I know where my weaknesses can get other people hurt." He shakes his head. "So thanks but no thanks. Mikhail needs some help though."

"But some people drive themselves too hard and will hurt themselves and those they care about by doing so." Addison says, just as firmly. "By driving themselves too hard to protect and to do what they can to save. They'll only end up worse off." Of course, this is coming from a man who's spent the last few days in Cerebra, not even leaving to eat or just move. He's locking himself down, but this isn't about him.

Dallas shrugs and says, "I'm not exactly the first line of defense around here. Trust me, I get that now." There are whole realms of emotion locked up behind that last sentence, but he's doing his best to stay in a flat, recitation-like tone. Then again, he's talking to a telepath, so the spill over of anger, guilt, shame and horror is probably like a cloying, fetid cloak around Dallas. "But this is how I deal with stuff. I work. And when I'm too tired to work, I can sleep." For a few hours anyway. "Like I said, I'm fine. Robyn and Mikhail both need way more help than I do. Robyn probably needs those memories gone. And Mik's acting like a guy who just broke his arm and hasn't had time to be in pain yet. He's just numb and dazed." He pauses a moment and then adds, grudgingly, "You might want to look at Rashmi, too. Nobody can be that forgiving without being a little nuts."

"Robyn refused." Addison says with a soft nod. "And Mikhail… his mind is so strange. Bestial in ways." He says, shaking his head. "I don't think I have the skill to properly work with that." He pauses a moment. "Some can. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, myself." He offers, taking slight insult at people being forgiving having mental problems. "Though, I highly suggest you spend some time with Dr. Parker-Mayfair. Robyn is going to. It's not a sign of weakness to say you need a pair of shoulders to lean on from time to time. And his shoulders are very broad."

Dallas can't help but quirk a bit of a smile at that last statement. "When you can see them through the cloud cover." Apparently the seven-foot tall therapist is a notable figure even in a school full of mutants. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, "Can I ask a question? Well, a few?" His tone is careful at that but there is a hint of anger in his eyes and aura that suggests he's not exactly going to inquire about scheduling or school trips.

"Of course. I mean, yes… I am a disciplinarian, but I only do that to help the school run smoothly. You can ask me anything. And if you're prefer to do it face to face with me, well… I'm down in the Cerebra Chamber." Addison offers with a mental smile. "That's my duty here. To help students. Powers primarily, but any other way when I can."

Dallas nods and leans forward. "Great. Then why are those demon guys still alive?" The question is cold and the wave of loathing and hatred is like stagnant, alkaline water overflowing from a deep well. Whatever he feels for them is rooted in or linked to his feelings for himself. "I heard you guys have Magneto on our side. And you've got X-Force and the X-Men. Why haven't you all just gone into the city and flattened that castle to the ground and set fire to everything in the rubble?"

"There are people inside that castle that cannot defend themselves. And, there's magic involved. When Magic is involved, mutant powers don't mean shi… squat." Addison says with a pause and a cough. "Sorry. I'm a little worn right now. "Some of them are our people converted. Some of them can be changed back. We don't kill unless we have absolutely NO choice, Dallas. Ever. You have already seen one of ours brought back to us. If the others can be, then it's worth it to wait. And we don't know what their ultimate goal is. As soon as Ms. Sefton awakens, we hope to have a little more information. Even Magneto knows better than to go, guns blazing, without all the info."

Dallas frowns and looks like he wants to keep arguing, but Addison is an authority figure and after a moment, the student just swallows his anger and then says, "Fine. But that means we're responsible for the bodies they pile up while we wait, doesn't it?" The 'we' isn't a rhetorical device. It's clear even from a casual glance at Dallas's mind that he considers himself part of the larger team. Not first string, but just as culpable for 'losses' as the coach, if in a different way.

"No, this has deeper roots than we realize. And most likely, it's going to be done like it was before. According to the files, it was passed off as a massive gas leak." Addison shakes his head. "We can't prevent all deaths. And… people die when heroes are there. We can't save everyone, Dallas. None of us are that powerful. Even my mother and I… we're two of the strongest mutants out there and…" He shakes his head sadly. "We can each only do so much."

Dallas shakes his head, mutely denying that idea. He folds his arms again and says, "Well, then, we just have to do better." It's a strange combination of arrogance and self-castigation that only a teenager would be able to believe in. In Dallas's mind, the idea of just flat out not being good enough is impossible. It just means he hasn't explored all the options or worked hard enough. The reality is different, of course, but in his own quiet way, he's not particularly attached to reality at the moment.

"We can only do better when we have more information to go on and more knowledge of how to deal with things." Addison says plainly. "And right now, that hope lies in Ms. Sefton's unconscious self. They had her drugged so bad that she's not even out of it yet." He sighs. "We're doing everything we can. The doctors are anyway. I can't do anything on that front."

Dallas just nods and says, "Well, I hope she comes out of it soon then." Stifling a massive yawn, Dallas says, "If I can help with anything, let me know. And I'll think about talking to Dr. Parker-Mayfair. Thanks."

"Please do." Addison says with a nod before he succinctly vanishes, not leaving a trace of himself behind. Yay, not being there at all in the first place!

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