ArchivedLogs:Support Systems

Support Systems
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Xavier
In Absentia	2013-04-18 '
Location <XS> Headmaster's Office - B1
Quietly elegant, the headmaster's office is as old-fashioned as the headmaster himself. The large wooden desk is the centerpiece of the room, the guest's chair a high-backed dark wood one. The walls are painted in rich dark colours, a sole impressionist painting hanging on the wall. The hardwood floors are polished, the floor kept carefully neat and tidy, the room perpetually immaculately organized. Knockknockknock. It's a polite formality, because outside the door Jax's mind is far louder than his quick rap of knuckles. It's a vivid place as it ever is, technicolour-bright and hummingbird-flitting from place to place rapidly, formed more in images than in words. Schoolwork and work-work and the twins and swimming and Scott and training and registration and maybe his nailpolish should be a different colour and will Micah be around for dinner should he bother cooking and maybe he should drag Hive down for /more/ training and oh right knock. Knock. He's vibrant-bright as wel, blue corduroys and a shimmery-silver sleeveless top over a long-sleeved black fishnet shirt, sparkly purple eyeshadow, bright metallic-purple stars on his nails on a black background -- oh no wait now they're silver stars on a purple background. Black eyepatch with a silver star. Electric blue hair. He's bouncing from heel to toe as he waits. << Come in, Jackson. >> Professor Charles Xavier's voice is warm as it echoes in Jax's head. Inside the office, the Professor makes his way from one of the bookshelves back towards his desk, wheelchair sliding quietly along the floor. "What's on your mind, Jackson?" Jackson enters with a smile, though he usually does; a smile and an overabundance of energy that puts a bounce in his step. Bright-smile, bright-cheer, bright-colour, bright-energy; the illusionist looks much as he usually does in good times /or/ bad. The lengthening days have added to his energy, too, growing hours of sunlight accentuating his general exuberance with steadily accumulating reserves of power. It's only internally that the brightness is shadowed, exhaustion and stress clouding his cheer. "Hi, Professor," he greets, warmly. "Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about my advisees." Ex-advisees, technically, given the notice he got yesterday but he is not going to acknowledge that detail. If Professor Xavier notices Jax's internal state - and, certainly, he must - he doesn't acknowledge it at all. "Ah, yes." he says, lacing his hands in his lap and looking over Jackson. His expression remains warm but neutral, looking across the table and right into the other man's face. "Yes, I have some time. Please." he says, gesturing to one of the comfortable seats across from him. Jackson closes the door behind himself, moving over to take the chair indicated. He perches on its edge, posture upright, hands folding in his lap. One leg bounces against the floor, jittery. "Thank you, sir." There's a moment of silence before he speaks, silence in which the jittery-bright plane of his mind quietly reorganizes itself, settling down into something -- not quite linear, really, but a little more coherent. "I got the notice yesterday afternoon about Dai and Ivan and Shelby. I understand they've all been having problems lately, sir, but respectfully, I don't think the administration is making the right decision here." Whereas Jax is jittery, Professor Xavier is perfectly calm. He nods along as the other man speaks, eyes fixed on him. "Never an easy decision to make. Please," he says, gesturing to Jackson. "How so?" "I'd like to keep my advisees," Jackson says quietly. "I don't think reassigning them is the right decision." There's a moment of quiet, turning over in his mind Daiki's discomfort with most people and Ivan starting to come out of his shell and Shelby's truckload of baggage. "Things've been rough lately and I know I don't quite look like most people's idea of an authority figure but I'm a teacher at this school and a member of your team and I was assigned those kids to begin with, someone must've thought I could do the job." "I did - and I do, Jackson." Professor Xavier says, voice even as he looks over the other man. "You have been great for Daiki, Ivan, and Shelby, and they are certainly not the easiest of our students. I have the highest confidence in your ability to advise these students as well as any other member of this staff." This stops Jackson, eye widening. It grinds his train of thought briefly to a -- OK, not halt, his train of thought rarely does that but it does grind it to a slower skittering. It halts the speech he was /about/ to launch into about the kids benefiting from an advisor who is a little less conventional, about appearances not always being useful metrics, about how much he cares about the kids and wants them to thrive. His brows knit. "-- but -- then -- why are they getting reassigned?" "Because they are going through the same set of problems that you are, right now, Jackson." Professor Xavier explains, slowly. His voice is not exactly gentle, but it is soft and evenly paced. "With all that is happening with your children, you are under a lot of pressure. Shane and Sebastian's absence is affecting Daiki, Ivan, and Shelby all in different ways, and it is not fair for you to have to deal with their injuries compounding your own." he says, a trace of puzzlement showing on his expression. "It is not a comment on your abilities, Jackson." There is a long pause before Jackson responds, slowly: "-- Fair --" He is turning this word over carefully in his mind. "Sir, I --" Another pause. "I don't think it's fair to them to introduce /more/ instability when things're already kind of messed up. I -- I know I've had a lot of stress," this statement is coloured wry in his mental tone of quiet-calm in audible, something of a giant understatement in the words, "but I can handle it. I am handling it. It's a lot, but I've got a good support system," the thoughts here are mingled, his parents and his church and his mixed-up-jumbled adopted family of rescuees and his mixed-up-jumbled adopted family of Xavierites all equally /family/ in his mind, "and," with a small hook of smile, "/I/ had good teachers bringing me to here. I talked to Professor Summers this morning and -- he may not be my advisor anymore /officially/ but he's still offered his support if I need it. I /can/ handle it, though. In some ways it's good. I do better when I have productive work to focus on. Other people to help. Less time to sit and stew." "Do you think that you are the right person to help them with this?" Proefssor Xavier says, softly. "Considering that you are going through things with your children right now?" There are many things bubbling through Jackson's mind, lengthy explanations and impassioned defences but in the end he just nods. "I do, sir." Professor Xavier pauses looking over Jackson for several moments. Then he nods, once. "I'll speak with a few people to see what their input is on this, and then we'll get back to you. In the mean time, we will hold off on making any decision either way. Does that seem fair?" "Yessir," Jackson says, quietly nodding his head. "-- Um, sir? In the mean time should I still -- I mean, the kids still might need someone --" His hand turns up. "It's kinda stressful right now. I don't want to leave them in limbo." "In the mean time, continue as you were doing. I will get back to you later this afternoon or tomorrow." The professor says, with a brief nod of his head. "Thank you for coming to see me, Jackson." Jackson smiles, quick and warm. "Thank you, Professor." There's a note of hope layered over the previous stress in his mind, and he bounces up from his seat, circling the table to give the Professor a quick hug. << Y'know, I wouldn't think I /could/ do it if y'all wasn't always there for /me/. >> And then he is leaving, still kind of exuberant-bouncy as he heads for the door. Professor Xavier's hug is firm and stiff, but his smile is broad. "Thank /you/, Jackson." he says, a trace more warmth entering his voice. He watches the younger man leave, the telepathic comment coming just as Jackson steps through the door. << And we couldn't do it without you. >> from: Charles Xavier <professorx@xaviers.edu> to: Jackson Holland <littlemisssunshine@xaviers.edu> date: Thu, Apr 18, 2013 at 19:37 AM subject: Advisees Jackson, After speaking with Jean, we've decided to reverse our previous decision. If you need any assistance, we can assign a second professor to help you manage your advisees. Please let me know if there is anything that we can do to assist you or your advisees. Yours sincerely, Charles Xavier