2013.04.04 - Just a truck

Scott Summers is seated in the Atrium waiting for someone or something. He's got a book in his lap and has his face propped up by his thumb and forefinger in a move that looks like it could not possibly be comfortable. As he goes over the material, he's frowning a bit, but in all truth that's sort of his M.O. lately. He's wearing a black sweater and charcoal grey slacks that come up a bit as his legs are crossed. Matching black socks and buckled black shoes complete his ensemble.
Lorna was up until 1 AM making sure that her resume was up to snuff, partly because today will be her first time seeing most of these people in years(or /ever/!), and partly because she has no teaching degree, and no more than a few semesters of TA work to offer as experience. Long, wavy hair the colour of spring grass gently rustles back and forth with each step, having been carefully pulled back behind her head; it matches her eyes, her heels, and the multitude of tiny stones dangling from her necklace. The rest of her ensemble consists of an off-white pants suit, a deep violet blouse, and a mostly empty laptop bag slung over one shoulder.
"Scott!" she warmly exclaims upon sticking her head into the Atrium; as she steps through, she begins to give him an energetic wave before pausing, dropping her hand and just briskly approaching the man. "Thank God; the place has--/changed/." The last word is uttered with a wrinkled nose; she may or may not have blown the time she gained by showing up early for this meeting by getting lost.
It's difficult to tell when Scott's looking up or down, but the smile that grows across his face lets her know that he sees her and she's welcome and that he's elated to see her. He snaps the book shut and pulls himself upwards and out of the chair, bridging the distance between them with a few steps and taking her in a hug.
"How have you been?" he asks after pulling away. "It's great to see you!"
"Wh--" Lorna exhales, mildly bemused even as she readily returns the hug with her free arm. Once they've separated, she briskly looks him over as she replies, "Great!" with a beaming smile. After a beat, she amends that to, "Good."
After another, she amends /that/ to, "Little nervous," as the smile recedes somewhat. "You look great, by the way--/everything/ does. Being back's..." She glances over her shoulder, towards the Atrium's entrance--towards the rest of the mansion, and then looks up at him. "It's nice," she finally concludes.
"Yeah, so do you," Scott says with a smile before taking a step backwards. "Nice, but weird, right? That's what Amanda said too." He tilts his head at her and shakes it slowly. "Nervous? Why? There's nothing to be nervous over, I assure you." He tilts his head, "It probably looks a little different because the Professor put in new wood for the stairwell. It gives everything a bit more of a classic feel. Plus, I keep the students who get in trouble making sure that it shines. There are plenty detainees to assure good asthetics."
The remark about detainees draws a chuckle from Lorna as she pulls the bag around front for easier searching. "Two birds with one stone," she approvingly comments, rooting through the bag with her free hand. It doesn't take long for her to come up with the single sheet of paper she's looking for, but there's a little hesitation before she exhales, "Anyway," pulls it out and offers it over to Scott. "Like I told you over the phone, I want to pitch in as much as I can--pull my weight, you know? I have my masters; I'm sure there's /something/." After a beat, she quietly adds, "It's a little--thin, I guess?" gesturing towards the paper with her chin. "Or so I keep hearing." There is, indeed, not much of a work history to speak of; a job at a fast food place when she was in high school, a few brief retail stints in college, and then nothing.
"Well," Scott begins with a tilted head. He takes the piece of paper and looks over it quickly, "I definitely think you'll be one of the more educated teachers we have. In honesty, as a private school, we have more leeway in who we hire. We're able to get you what the state of New York refers to as an emergency license. With science teachers, especially, being in such need it's really no problem. Besides, with someone of your expertise, it's actually a real need here at the Mansion."
He motions towards the seats, "Take a seat." Scott walks over towards the seat he was in, moves the book he had earlier and sits down, taking more time to inspect the resume. "I think what we'll do at the start of next school year is have you take over my physics class. That would allow me to offer an Advanced Placement class dealing with either government or history. We'd also want you to teach middle school general science classes, 7 through 8th. One area we're really lacking in is in chemistry. Would you feel comfortable teaching that at a high school level?"
Lorna visibly relaxes as Scott lays things out for her, nodding once or twice as he speaks. She takes the seat when it's offered, but that last question comes /just/ as she's about to settle back into it; with her hands gingerly braced against the chair's rests, she peers at him with a wrinkled nose for a moment, then sighs and sits back.
"I guess I don't see why /not/," she tentatively accepts. "I can brush up over the summer. No big deal." After taking a second to cross her right leg over her left, she wonders, "I'm--/assuming/ you all don't need help teaching them anything in the Danger Room, right? I mean, if it comes down to it, I'm game, but I'd probably need, I dunno, a crash course or something. Re-accclimate to the system and all that, y'know?"
"Well, the other thing is that we can get you into a post-baccalaureate program that can get you officially licensed 7-12 broadfield science. The credits would go towards completing your PhD if that's something you're looking to do, and the cost would be covered by the Institute as per our policy on staff development. Our teachers have to maintain continuing education, so you would need to do something similar to maintain your licensure anyways. So, if it's something you're willing to pursue, I can check out programs at Metropolis U, or some of the others. It's mostly done online these days, so it wouldn't be a huge undertaking."
And then the other shoe drops. The X-men. This is Scott's true passion, of course. Everyone knows that. But his apprehension might take Lorna by surprise. "Let me start by saying I'd love to have you both as an instructor down there"-he means the basement-"as well as back on the team proper. But before you agree there are certain things you need to know about. Things that have happened that have not sat well with everyone."
If it weren't for the X-Men, Lorna might not even /be/ here today: as tantilizing as the opportunity to earn a living - and perhaps even go back to school without accumulating anymore crippling debt, now that /that's/ on the table - is, the world is rapidly becoming the kind of place that needs more X-Men, rather than less. Thus, when she catches his apprehension, her brow knits in equal parts confusion and dismay.
"Scott?" she gently presses, leaning a little nearer to her former classmate. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's..." Lorna trails off as she studies the man, and gradually, she leans back into her seat to just let him say his piece.
"You may have followed the news recently regarding the events in a nation called Mureybet," Scott begins. "I'm only telling you this because you're an old friend, and you deserve to know. In any event, the overthrow of that country. That was us. Then, in an effort to kind of build the team back together, I decided to take us out on spring break. We were attacked by some pretty heavy duty machinery, codenamed Sentinels. There's more, in the report, but those events have kind of shocked the team. It's been pretty bloody. Lives have been lost and there's a lot of apprehension." Scott sighs, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that the X-men are not for the weak of heart."
If Lorna could somehow pull any further away right now, she would, but that pesky chair is in the way; still, though, she's pretty much pressed flat against it as she stares into the ruby quartz-shaded eyes of her former(and future?) teammate, mouth slightly ajar.
"I--" she stammers, eyes flitting back and forth across the surface of those red lenses as the gears of her mind visibly work to make sense of those revelations.
"The people who made those machines," she eventually murmurs, breaking her shocked silence, "Did--you do to them what you did the man in charge of Mureybet?"
Scott shakes his head, "Munqid had a hostage, Lorna. I made the call I thought I needed to make under the situation. I don't regret it, as hard as that might be to hear. But in regards to Bolivar Trask, the man who created the Sentinel program, he's currently sitting in a jail cell at a United Nations facility. He was not touched. In fact, Doug even saved him."
Lorna finally drops her eyes as she nods along with the recounting of Trask's fate; judging from her silence, it seems as though she might need yet more time to take it all in, but she does at least loosen up some as she mulls. In fact, by the time she's ready to speak, she gives her shoulders a quick roll, then firmly nods and softly exhales, "That'll have to do, then."
With that said, she leans far enough forward to offer Scott an outstretched hand and adds, "The X-Men were /never/ for the weak of heart, though, Scott."
Scott takes it and gives a squeeze. "That's what I've been saying all along. But I would be lying to you if I didn't say that at points I worry we've become a bit of a paper tiger. Now that we have experienced true and heavy losses, certain weak points of the team are coming to the surface. Time will tell how these things end up." He gives her hand another squeeze before letting it go, as he does with that part of the conversation. If Lorna wants to research it more, it's all in the report.
"The starting salary for a teacher here at the institute is 31,000 per year. That's not a great salary, but it's bumped up to 35, considering you've got your masters. When you throw in free room, board, and food if you decide to stay here at the mansion, it's a pretty decent wage. Do you know how long it will take you to come to a decision?"
Lorna firmly squeezes right back, both times; it's a gesture of compassion and sympathy as much as anything, in light of the losses suffered of late. She's perfectly fine with letting him move on, too; if he's anything like the serious, responsible boy she remembers, she can't imagine he'll need too much help in dwelling on what's gone wrong in recent months.
"No, yeah," she murmurs as she sits back in her seat, waving along as he rattles off the bennies. "That all sounds great; I'm in." She lets out a small breath, then cracks a grin "So--about that long, I guess."
"Good," Scott says with a smile. "I'm glad, and it'll be great to have you back. Do you need to arrange for moving services, or you one of those types who travels light? I can get a few of the guys to get a room ready for you. That way you can stay when you want and if you decide to live off of campus, you'll have a place to stay until then. For the rest of this year, we'll basically have to start you off as a substitute, unless you want to wait and move in August. The pay is about equal on a day to day basis, but you'll lose out on a few weeks before the contract kicks in." He pauses. "Other than that, I can't really think of anything else." His lip twists, trying to think if he's missed something.
"Just a truck," Lorna brightly replies, flicking a couple of fingers on the hand she clasped Scott's with; a pen snaps out of her bag to hover just above them. "Working as a sub is fine; I'll need all the experience I can get, I imagine." The emerald-haired mutant screws her face up a little as she finishes that reply; it has, perhaps, only /just/ dawned on her that she's only weeks away from being faced with dozens of bored, impatient teenaged eyes.
"Great. I'll see if I can scrounge up a handful of guys to help move your boxes in. I have to run to a meeting pretty quick here, but there's some leftover chicken pesto from dinner that I highly recommend you snack on before it's gone." Scott smiles. "It's good to have you back, Lorna. We missed you."
Category:Log