ArchivedLogs:For Your Safety

For Your Safety
Dramatis Personae Jennifer, Ivan	2013-05-06 A teacher approaches Ivan about Peter's absence.
Location <XS> Gymnasium - B1
For a mutant school, this is a pretty standard gym, even if its sturdy construction to handle mutant powers is less standard. Still, it is designed along normal lines; setup for a basketball court, standard equipment -- punching bags, rubber mats, standard assortment of balls, weight training equipment, the usual fare. It is large, and as well-appointed as the rest of Xavier's tends to be. The classes for the first day of the week are all but over. All that's left is to unwind in physical education. Although still firm, Jennifer rarely strained her students on Monday, knowing full well that not only have they softened after the weekend, but it's the first school day of the week, too. Today, however, is particularly slow. Something is off. It's hard to determine why exactly, but it's just one of those days when nothing sticks together. The class lasts an eternity and the students aren't particularly active. To make matters worse, Ivan is once again summoned by his name and the wiggle of a finger. The raincloud that is Jennifer Walters is approaching the poor Russian kid on her own, as well, to shorten that distance quicker. Wearing the second choice for physical education, she has donned the grey sweatpants and a simple sports top, along with a plain pair of running shoes. Her hair was done up in a pony-tail, although now she's letting it loose. "Ivan", she repeats, this time more calmly. "You're doing much better already." Yes, let's break that thick slab of ice, first. But the calm does not seem to do much for Ivan, whose approach of Jennifer is one rife with suspicion. The 'what did I do' sort, eyebrows twitched together as he eyes his teacher, though his body language does little to reflect what's on his face. He too has been elsewhere in thought, though perhaps for other reasons than the rest of the class. Even when he comes to a stop, dressed in his usual loose fitting P.E. garb, he is just a scrawny kid peeering at-- maybe through Jennifer. Distracted, and quiet. Not even very expectant. He'd probably just /stand/ there and do nothing even if she didn't address him, from the looks of it. Auto-pilot engaged. Once she stands close enough, hands are curled into fists and propped against either side of her pelvis. The muscular teacher exhales deeply before sighing. "Times like these I wish I were a telepath. All that stone-cracking might doesn't really help with dealing children, now, does it?" The question seems more rhetoric than genuine. Her arms are then crossed below the chest. "Ivan, are you okay? I mean-- Peter's gone, and I've seen you two around. You open up in front of him in a way I haven't really seen you do otherwise. You have to understand that... if you don't talk to anyone, then all adults can do is make crazy assumptions. And I think I've already hit my yearly quota with those." Blink. Ivan's stare at Jennifer turns slightly more focused, his eyebrows lowering as his attention settles on her more properly. "You do not need to make assumptions." His voice is a little flat, but not /much/ more so than usual. "I am only worried. I think it is understandable." Flop. All the way from her full height, Jennifer crashes down on her butt. Granted, it is an elegant descent, seeing as she makes sure not to injure herself. Still, to an untrained eye it's easy to just see her as falling down straight onto her tush. "Oh, Ivan", she remarks along another sigh. Finally, he has /spoken/. "It is, but sometimes, when we're worried, we can do... silly things." Jennifer is clearly uncomfortable beating around the bush. She looks apologetic, like she owes Ivan the bare naked truth - Peter is missing, and there are hundreds of possibilities, half of which involve never seeing the nattering teen again. "I've seen you in the Danger Room. I have seen myself what you're willing to do for Shelby. I have to strain my imagination to try and think what you would do for /Peter/." A full three seconds of uncomfortable silence later, she adds, "I think it's best if you stayed at school. I've informed other faculty members to think twice before letting you leave school grounds. For /your/ safety." Whatever trace of stupor was left in Ivan now dissipates to make place for-- he doesn't quite know. He's not exactly /happy/ with this development. This time, his words easily carry notes of concern with them, much more energetically. "But I would not do 'silly things'. The last time Peter was missing, I knew where he was and I asked for help and we /found him/." He says this like it's a calculation, a constant. -1 Peter + looking = 1 Peter. "I cannot find him if I am not allowed to /look/." "You? You found--" That is one thing that is not in the files. "Really?" This new information comes off as a surprise to Jennifer, and it can easily be seen she's having a hard time processing that information. Harder still is coming up with a retort to that. On top of that, the reply has to be shaped in a manner which is suitable for addressing a teenager. All this takes time. In the end, she abandons the idea. "That's pretty damn impressive, Ivan. But... I think I have a better idea. If you /really/ want to help-- How well do you know Peter?" Jennifer looks around the gym, as if looking for anyone listening in, but the place is completely empty. "I mean, I am pretty much dead certain you know he's the spider-boy, right?" "The Spider." Ivan /corrects/ with just an edge of defensiveness, shoulders pushing back a little just in time for doubt to cross his face, wrinkling his nose as his gaze darts to the side. "Or... Spider-dude?" The words leave him a little awkwardly before he looks back to Jennifer with renewed determination. "It's. Either one of these. He is /almost sixteen/." Which is /apparently/ too old to be an anything-boy if the Ivan's tone is anything to go by. Jennifer curls her lips into a grin as she listens to Ivan correcting her. The tone that she adopts is sort of teasing, but at the same time welcoming and warm. "/Sixteen/? You're /right/. He's no longer Spider-Boy, he's Spider-/Man/." Her amusement seems to climb only for a moment, until she realises that the aforementioned Spider is missing. "Anyway-- This is a complete shot in the dark, but you wouldn't know anything-- Peter wouldn't have told you about the day that made everyone see him as a terrorist threat, would he? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong-- in fact you /must/ correct me if I am wrong, but Peter doesn't strike me as the sort of person to commit acts of terrorism." But why would Ivan tell her such? Jennifer purses her lips for a moment of thought. "I ask because I /might/ be able to help clear his name. Most of it. Sort of." But Ivan is apparently not as easily convinced. His expression relaxes into something mostly neutral again, to meet that amusement head on, unwavering. He stiffens a little, and there is a short spot of silence in which he thinks. Then, flatly, "I will find him. And then he will tell you himself." He just can't help himself, though, and adds, "He is not a terrorist." Deeply inhale. Slowly exhale. Jennifer twists her lips around as she looks on to Ivan thoughtfully. "Ivan, this isn't a game. There's a chance he might have finally been caught by the FBI. A pretty big chance, at that. What are you going to do against the government? In the meantime, I am still technically a lawyer. If Peter told you anything - /anything/ at all - you might know something that could get him out of trouble. Knowledge is power." Ivan listens closely, but his demeanor changes little. When he speaks up again, it is clear and a little louder than before. "If he is with the FBI," a theory that apparently does not shock him, or perhaps one he has long since considered, "then he is with a 'governmental agency'." Someone's been on Wikipedia. "You do not do anything /against/ the government, the government is /good/. If he is there, he will explain and it will be on the news and then we will know where he is. And then we can help him." His head tilts just slightly, though, as he studies Jennifer's face. "... Right?" That... comes out a lot less certain. The look that Jennifer gives to Ivan is half-scepticism, half-disbelief. Overall, it seems to say 'are you really going there'. "The FOIA would lead you to believe that, yes", she explains with a growing sneer. "But they can stall it. If publication of information disturbs the flow of the investigation, or if they haven't officially charged the suspect with anything yet, to, ah, 'protect' the suspect. And he's better off not explaining to them anything. Ever hear how cops in films tell you that anything you say can be used against you? Well, that's true - the slightest wrongly worded sentence could put him on the--" Woah, slow down, Jen. "It could lead to serious consequences." "That is why we hire lawyers. It's not just about knowing the law, it's-- It's piledriving into the courtroom. It's theater. You have to know exactly what words to use and what information to present when. Now, call me arrogant, but if it comes to that, I want to be that lawyer. I want to help Peter. Even if-- Y'know, even if it turns out he's okay and we find him safe and sound, or if he comes back on his own, it is a /very/ serious issue that needs to be dealt with as soon as possible." It's slow in coming, but the look of confusion that creeps across Ivan's face is definitely there. And as more words come at him, the more perturbed he looks, his shoulders slowly drawing forward again while his hands come up to finick with the hem of his shirt. He looks away, now, toward the ground, frowning. As if that floor just did something /utterly horrible/. He's thinking. Which apparently means no words, yet. "That-- I think I might have ranted a little bit. Did I rant?" Turns out Peter isn't the only one who can fall victim to too much talking. "Nf. Point is, I can help you. I can help /Peter/. The more you're closing down, the more you're telling me you know /something/. But as much as I want to, I can't force it out of you." Yet another sigh escapes Jennifer's chest. She slowly rises to her feet. "You can't always save him alone, y'know? You can't always have a little ragtag bunch of teenagers go on a happy adventure to save each other. The adult world is mean. It's admirable how much you care for Peter, but you should consider if you aren't caring to the point of harming him and potentially /yourself/." Hands are firmly planted on her hips again. "The answer's no, then?" "I did not say no," comes Ivan's response, voice level despite his glare off into the ground. Then he simple straights up straight again, studying Jennifer's face before he simply turns and starts walking back toward the locker rooms in as straight a line as he can manage. Calmly enough for her to catch up with him within seconds, but walking away from the conversation nonetheless. "I will think," He adds, in the midst of his beeline, "about what is /safe/ to tell you. And then I will tell you those things." When Ivan the Kidpin walks off, speaking his verdict aloud, Jennifer follows the teen with her eyes. A look of utter shock is on her features, complete with a gaping mouth. For a few seconds, she's at a complete loss of words. Watching him walk off, Jennifer throws both arms up in the air in disbelief. "Does /everyone/ in this school walk away from me in the middle of a conversation? Is this some sort of long-running gag?" She doesn't sound mad. Upset, maybe. To herself, she murmurs annoyedly, "Oh, sure, walk away and then tell all your friends how mean /I/ am. Ngh." The punching bags are eyed irritably. Soon, my pretties. Soon, you will be my uglies. Ivan is looked at again; by now, he's gained quite a bit of distance. For a brief moment, she considers shouting out to him, but in the end she scoffs and moves towards the aforementioned punching bags. "Jesus, what happened to this school."