2012 03 08 Fathers And Daughters

Log Title:
Fathers and Daughters

Siryn and Havok

IC Date:

Ready Room

Brief log summary::
Siryn tells Havok about the reality she was trapped within for a decade.


There is no TS in this log::

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-==[ Ready Room - Sublevel - Xavier Mansion ]==-----

This room is a testament to the amazing technology appropriated by the X-Men. Within this circular room, banks of sleek consoles line the walls, with a couple of dozen flat displays continuously updating statuses from worldwide locations. Many of those screens, where they meet, can be made into one picture, offering a larger screen image. The center of the room is focused on a massive round table, surrounded by an even dozen seats. On the ceiling over the table is a tiny holographic projector that serves to create any visuals needed. There is a constant undercurrent of humming energy in here.

A side door off this room leads into a private office for X-Men team leaders. The office resembles this room strongly - metallic walls, workstations, and holographic projectors, all drawn off Shi'ar technology.

OOC: Like the Danger Room, students do not have access to this room without a faculty member present. If you're a student and want to be in here on your own, please contact an IC staff member to negotiate thieving a keycard for the occasion… and the cameras watching you.

Running into Terry in the lower levels, Alex finds the moment inviting as he says, "Hey. So you got a sec?" while taking a seat in a swivel chair and facing her.

Terry is just coming out of there when he comes in, and she nods. "Sure. What's on yer mind, boyo?" she asks. Since she's been back she's slowly come back to a 'normal' interaction with Alex, though occasionally he'll still catch her watching him with a carefully neutral expression.

"So you doing okay?" He asks with a curious tone. "I mean it's been a few <insert time here> since you got back and wondering if it's all okay, adjusting.

"I'm doin' all right, Alex. Thank ye for askin', but ye don't have anythin' to worry about," Terry tells him calmly. Some things have definitely held over. "I hear ye and Lorna moved in. Congratulations. Tis nice t' see ye happy."

Seeing that she's dealing with it, Alex nods reflectively and then smiles, "Yeah. We took over the boathouse." a second later, which he shifts back to the former topic, "What was I like? In the other reality that is."

Tilting her head, Theresa is… surprised. That he'd want to know. She closes the ready room door behind her if only to allow for warning if someone else was coming. "Ye were… stern. A touch more like Scott than ye might like t' think. Ye had a rather wicked sense of humor, and a sharp eye toward discipline." She chooses her words carefully. "Strict. With little tolerance for those who broke th' rules." A faint smile quirked her lips. "That said ye were beyond tolerant of Shannon. Though th' expectation of discipline carried over, ye were far less harsh on her. Ye ran a tight ship, Alex, and ye knew when t' delegate." She pauses, and considers. "Ye also had a good sense for when t' let me have my head and when t' rein me in. But I'm no' sure exactly what you're lookin' for here."

Alex hears and tries to get a reflection on her descriptions. Her terms are vague enough that makes him want to know a little more, but chooses to ask, "Who's Shannon?"

"Our daughter," Terry tells him blandly. She's playing a bit of a lawyer's game here, answering only what he seems to express desire to hear in the simplest possible terms. If he wants details, he'll have to ask. "We had two by the time I woke here, but katherine was only a toddler — not old enough for ye t' do more'n cuddle'n play wi'. Shannon was old enough t' be… a bit of a challenge t' ye." She grins wickedly. "Ye *did* ask for a redhead, after all."

Alex gives pause, reflective he smiles and thinks about children (of his own). He recovers and then says, "Sounds like an interesting place."

Theresa grins faintly. "It was," she admits. "Although I have t' admit… th' idea of ye havin' a household of female slaves here is somewhat disgusting. There… it seemed entirely normal." She shrugs. "Yer a good man in both realities, if that's what yer worried about, lad."

Theresa grins faintly. "It was «an interesting time, which he'd just commented on»," she admits. "Although I have t' admit… th' idea of ye havin' a household of female slaves here is somewhat disgusting. There… it seemed entirely normal." She shrugs. "Yer a good man in both realities, if that's what yer worried about, lad." She's watchful of his expression, and she says, "Ye saved my life there." In addition to all the other stuff.

"I just find it hard to wrap my head around the whole household full of slaves. I mean I find it hard to keep one girl in line at a time, much less a dozen of them.". Alex smiles, trying to make a slight joke about keeping a girl in line - like he could ever. "So I saved your life?"

"Well, t' be fair, lad, th' Mistresses and I weilded th' whip far more often than ye," Terry acknowledged. "And yes… ye did. Ye killed my husband before he could beat me t' death." Her tone remains placid throughout, as if it's nothing to her.

Again with more reflection, Alex ponders the imagery she details and then he queries, "Nice. I mean, not the whipping part, but the whole saving your life. Does that mean you owe me or something?" - He really wants to lighten the situation somehow, because it's awkward for him to think about all of this alternate reality stuff since he's not had the first hand experience with it (yet).

"Lad… I might have owed ye in that reality… but if I did, I more'n repaid it." Theresa snorts. "Look… I know ye want to know what ye were like there, and … part of me wants t' tell ye. But I don't honestly believe that ye'll like what I have t' say about th' matter. To be brutal about it, lad… ye were a good man for the times. Looking at it from the perspective of OUR reality, however… ye were a monster. And I loved ye anyway. Which can make talkin' t' ye about it a bit… awkward. Ye were th' father of my children, the center of my universe. And ye treated me like a princess for the years we were t'gether. And there were *years*, Alex." She sighs a bit. "Comin' back now, seein' what ye have wi' Lorna? I'm happy for ye, boyo. But I need… t' keep a steady footin' wi' ye, else I find meself drifting into a mindset where I could forget that it's no' like that here. That Lorna's likely unwillin' t' share."

Alex listens intently, starting to get the feel for what he was like in the other reality and then when she closes with the whole unwilling to share part his eyes get a little wide and he clears his throat as he has to cough. There's a smile hidden behind the fist he coughed into and he looks down and to the right before looking back up at her. After wiping his mouth/chin with his opened palm he says, "Wow." and really wants to say more but chooses not to because it'll just get him into trouble.

Tilting her head, Terry shows how well she knows his expressions too. "Ye needn't hide th' laughter, Alex," she says with a quick smile. "I'd rather ye laughed than were… disgusted. Which is part of why I didn' really wish t' talk about it too much. Yer mindset here is no' what I've had wi' ye th' last decade."

Leaning forward, Alex stands. His posture relaxed and he takes a step toward Terry. With a smile, he says "Then I won't ask anything else. Thanks for sharing though. It's cool to glimpse other me's."

She looks curious. "Ye really don't mind hearin' tha' ye were a man into such… unusual desires? I think if ye'd told *me* that before I lived it, I'd have been a touch unnerved," Terry admits

"Nah, but my perspective is more like reading about something in a book about someone that may be named Alex, but really it's just another take on the world. It's not me and well removed. So nah, no unnerving." Alex replies.

"Interesting," Terry observes with a smile. "In tha' case… I suppose anythin' ye really want t' know, I'll be happy t' tell ye, then." After all, he hasn't lived it. And for her… it's talking about a life lived. It's hard NOT to sometimes.

"Well, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Alex notes with a hint of concern. Plus, it could lead to odd situations which she may feel unfortable revealing.

"Ye can't," she tells him calmly. "I'm no' ashamed of who or what I was in tha' life. 'Twas a normal life as far as I was concerned there. As long as the idea that I may tell ye things that sound odd to ye won't make *ye* uncomfortable, it'd be… nice… t' talk about tha' life sometimes." She looks toward the computer console. "Th' professor was able t' block th' harder aspects of losin' ten years of time, distance it enough tha' I can talk of it. I have t' admit, I miss my children once in a while, but there's even a level of detachment from that," she tells him as she looks back at him. "I don't want t' lose th' memories of them, so aye… talkin' about that life is no hardship t' me."

"Shannon and Katherine, huh?" Alex states reflecting back to the names of the daughters, "So both redheads - something I figured was reserved for Scott's kids."

That makes her laugh. "And why would ye be thinkin' that, lad?" He's talking to a redhead, after all. Terry shrugs. "I'm glad they were girls… I'm no' so sure how ye'd have done wi' a son t' challenge yer authority," she says candidly. "Ye have a hell of a temper, boyo."

"Even in this reality they say I have anger issues. But eah.. it's just Scott that pushes my buttons." Alex takes a seat on the edge of a desk/console. "I guess I was thinking that my kids would have green hair. Never really thought outside the box - since Lorna have been on again and off again for years

"Ah, I see," Terry says with a nod. "Tha' would make sense," she agrees. "Although they're just as likely t' be blond, I would suppose." She smiles at him. "I'm actually quite grateful that here tis mostly yer brother who pushes yer buttons. I'm grateful… for a lot of the differences here. Including having th' alcohol under control."

With a thoughtful look, "Speaking of… you've cut waaaay down as far as I can tell. That other reality stuff burn you out of it?"

"Ye didn' allow such weakness, Alex," Theresa tells him baldly. "Had I been slave t' th' drink — which I was why I went home. Because I *was*. I'm an alcoholic — ye would have beat me." Her candid acceptance of it might be a hair unnerving. "And god forbid if I'd affected yer children wi' such a weakness. ye'd have killed me outright."

"So it was weakness to him, but nothing else?" Alex asks curiously assertaining that there was only one true master.

Theresa smiles faintly. "He knew a genetic predisposition existed — ye knew me father. But aye — t' him it was a weakness that could be overcome." She will struggle with the "he" versus "you" referrals for a while to come still. "I still enjoy a glass of wine w' a meal… I dinnae have t' avoid th' drink altogether. He taught me control of myself."

"And you liked… or didn't like it? I mean the conditioning to get over the addiction?" Alex asks, not exactly asking the nature of the conditioning.

"I was a slave, Alex. It didnae matter whether I liked or disliked th' nature of the conditioning," Theresa calmly points out. "But in point of fact, I quite enjoyed it. He was very talented in making exquisite pain pleasurable."

Alex tries to relate to the comment of pleasureable pain. The gears are turning and it sort of clicks into understanding. He ads slave to pain and realizes the full depth of the matter. "Oh." he says quietly which is followed by "Ooooh" which is accompanied with a smile of realization.

"An' why is it, boyo, when any man realizes tha' a woman might enjoy just a hiint of a bite t' her life, he makes that face?" Terry teases.

With a grin and a chuckle, Alex shakes his head and says, "Oh no no no… I'm totally not going there."

Terry shakes her head and shoots him one of those looks that she became expert at from beneath her lashes, absolute sex and still somehow demure. "And well ye shouldn't," she asserts in a lazy Irish brogue. "I'd ruin ye now, love." She leaves him with that little tidbit and a smile so hot that it'd melt polar ice caps as she slips out of the ready room, her laughter ringing softly in the hall.

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