Emotions Don't Age

[Lana Kane]

Lana was getting older, but wasn't getting taller. Not even with her boots that added inches to her! Walking down the hall with a slight skip in her step she paused to look into one room, before going to the next. 'I know you're here!' She thought toward Xavier, 'Hiding wont stop my laughing at your lack of hair!'

As she looked into the last room, she felt something. Looking up to the upper floors as if it would let her see through the walls, Lana paused. Heartbreak. Not Xaviers. Pain. Someone was hurting. Moving slowly toward the step, Lana never took her eyes off the floor above her while she moved up them. Once she found the floor it was coming from, she began walking down the hall, looking at the faces of the students. It was coming from somewhere close.

Walking into the common room, Lana found a young girl there, and she could feel the pain coming off her. Walking over to plop down on the couch, Lana grinned over at her, "Oh shite this place has gots a lot of steps." She joked, as the girl wasn't crying. It was more of a deeper sadness, rather then a surface one. Charles hated it when she cursed (even lightly) around his students ((which was partly why she'd done it now, as it wasn't like he was going to bend her over his desk and punish her--she wasn't his type), besides, right now she was less worried about the balding school teacher, and more about why the girl was sad. Lana could ignore many things, but she had to make sure it wasn't a 'I might hurt myself sadness' before she walked away. "I keep tellin him, he needs a lift--or at least tell me where it is." She joked again in her English accent.

[tudorrose]

Jean was finally starting to settle into her life at Xavier's.  It was far different than living at home.  There was no Sara to whisper to at night about the events of the day or discussion among her family at the dinner table about the events of the day.  She appreciated everything that Xavier had done for her.  She would be a fool otherwise not to.  He was a good man and she was grateful for his help.  To make the situation even better, he was a telepath like her.  He understood what she was going through.  It was thanks to him that she could function like a normal teenager- for the most part - without being bombarded by rogue voices.

She didn't mind the wall that he'd placed in her mind upon her telepathic abilities.  Perhaps one day she would attempt to control and hone them.  But not yet; her own mind was enough for now.  The slight amount of telepathic ability left to her was not as intrusive as she'd thought it would be.

Jean found herself in the common room that afternoon, a book open forgotten on her lap.  The room was rather quiet; her classmates were elsewhere.  It was during downtime like this when she missed her old life the most.  Her family, her friends....  She lifted a hand to her chest as if someone had physically hit her.  Annie... It was all her fault.  Jean doubted that she'd ever forgive herself for her hand in her friend's death.  It was an accident; she hadn't meant to throw the frisbee as far as she'd done that afternoon.   Not toward the street.  Not toward the path of the car turning onto the block.  

If she hadn't thrown that damn frisbee Annie would still be alive and Jean would be living as a normal girl.  The thought of what could have been hurt terribly.

She looked up sharply, having not heard another enter.  She recognized Lana, having seen her a few times. She'd never really had a conversation with the mutant, however.  A ghost of a smile flitted to her lips as the girl cursed; she knew Xavier's thoughts upon ill use of language.  

"There is an elevator," she assured her.  "He never told you?"  Her brows furrowed.  "He uses it on account of his wheelchair."

[Lana Kane]

The emotions coming from the girl lighted just slightly. Enough that Lana could tell that her head was no longer trapped inside whatever dark thoughts made the darker emotions surface--but she could still see them. Underlying everything. "There is an elevator," Yeah, she knew that. There had to be one since Charles couldn't walk up the steps, however Lana never looked for it.

"He never told you?" She never asked. "He uses it on account of his wheelchair." The lifts were metal, and she wasn't about to step in a metal box after her history. "I'm gonna have to take that up with him, clearly." She said lightly, more of a threatened tease, then upset. "Thought he was suppose to be ah gentleman. And look at em, makin' a girl walk up the steps."

Watching the girl for a moment, Lana tried to dig slightly. "Aren't kids normally loud bratty things who rather play out doors? Why you here in here?" Her tone was still light, joking rather then condemning.