2 PM, D-Day (Storm, please)

[Tempero]

((This happens the day after the CTF scenario))

He paces up and down the bathroom, in which he has spent most of the past two hours, wondering what exactly was She going to tell him. He knows he was out of line. In fact, he does not just know, he has made sure himself that he really Knows, and the process was not in the least bit rewarding or pleasant. Hell, there is not a single kind of punishment he has not set upon himself short of actual self-harm in the physical sense, and it reflects quite clearly on his face and posture, or at least it would if he spent the least bit of fifteen minutes out and about, among people. He has successfully managed to avoid Warren, and perhaps even more so Josh, who by now surely knows what happened.

His eyes are not the same. They no longer have that large concentration of radiant, happy eagerness to help anyone. He is not really in the mood to be around people, and is profoundly sad, and even more so disappointed in himself. After all, Daniel can only imagine the pain that Warren must have been through, although the cries, the memory of which woke him up this morning, paint a very detailed picture. And as if that is not enough in and of itself, he is now about to meet with Ms. Munroe, whose words made the meeting sound promising. Promising a very unpleasant time, that is.

And so he looks at himself in the mirror, noticing that really not all that much has changed in his appearance, other than the absence of friendly happiness and the presence of sadness, and that makes him relieved a bit. Looks have always been important, although not crucially so. He washes his face once or twice, and then walks out after drying it off.

It takes but a minute to walk to his destination, and now he is there, five minutes early, standing in front of the door, which suddenly seems like a large castle gate surrounded by a shark-filled moat and armed with several towers filled with guards. As he stands there, thinking about it, more and more dreadful little details are added to the picture, and he is by now certain that opening the gate will mean doom, but the walking away from which will mean death.

So he wastes five minutes expelling the picture from his mind, and then knocks three times, the normal way, instead of his usual small melodies.

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo is similarly pacing her office, back and forth, in the enclosed place. You’re the worst headmistress ever if you can’t throw around a little discipline. She shakes her head. If only it was a little teenage misbehavior.

The thing is, she’s worried about Danny - and by extension, everyone at the Institute. When he’d begun to suppress Warren’s mutation, a positively disturbing look had come over his face. She didn’t know what it meant… and whether to mention it or not was another story altogether.

Danny wasn’t exactly what she would call in control of his surroundings. Maybe it had been some kind of pleasure in exerting his ability over others? She shudders. Once in a long while, she wished she was administrator for a school where her worst concerns were food fights and people making out under the bleachers.

The knocks come, and she steels herself. “Come in.”

Storm gives Danny a small smile, and gestures. “Please take a seat. I’m not here to lecture at you, despite what you might have been thinking all afternoon. Let’s cut straight to business, shall we?” She looks over her desk at Danny. “In your estimation, why did I ask you to meet with me this afternoon?”

She was genuinely interested in what he was about to say. Perhaps it was just a Danny thing? He wasn’t exactly like most boys his age…

I doubt it’s explained that easily. Maybe it was just youthful enthusiasm taken too far? Again, other students didn't seem to have a problem with where that line sat.

[Tempero]

>“Come in.”

He places his hand on the handle, and then retracts it almost instantly, as if an electric shock jolted up his arm. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he enters the office, his eyes transfixed on the floor, studying everything that was possible to study on it in order not to look up.

“Please take a seat.[...]"

The smile and gesture are completely lost on him as they practically rub off his forehead covered in silky, white hair, and he mutters quietly something that might have been a "rather not, thank you" or something of the sort, but the words seem to be choked back down his throat by the air itself.

>"[...] I’m not here to lecture at you, despite what you might have been thinking all afternoon. Let’s cut straight to business, shall we? In your estimation, why did I ask you to meet with me this afternoon?”

He is not quite sure what to do in response to this. It is not what he expected, but then again he has never been in a situation even remotely like this before. Still standing perhaps two or three feet away from the door, still looking anywhere except in the direction of the headmistress, he offers a weak voice in explanation, but then realizes that the voice never came out, not really.

"Um...because of what...what I did to W-Warren?" he offers, his voice a bit shaky, and almost looks hopefully up at her, but stops himself just before his eyes meet hers, or even see her face. Instead, he looks back down, to a general area between her desk and the priorly offered chair.

[Ororo Munroe]

He declines the chair she offers, and Ororo shrugs slightly. In this kind of situation, the person sitting was in the position of power. Unfortunately, she wasn't trying to psyche him out. All she wanted to do was impress upon him the gravity of his actions that morning.

> "Um...because of what...what I did to W-Warren?"

Danny looks about ready to burst into tears, and her motherly instincts kick in. Ororo feels the urge to go over and hug him, but now isn't the time. Instead, she picks up her glasses and puts them on, and then stands up, coming around the desk to Danny.

"Correct. I'm aware that you're still developing control over your abilities, but I think it's time to consider the ethical implications of your powers, don't you?" Ororo guides Danny over to the pair of chairs near her bookcases, over in the corner of the office. "Please sit. This isn't an inquisition." Ororo attempts to look reassuring.

She sits down in the other armchair, and looks over at Danny. "Daniel, I think you realize that what you did today to Warren was incredibly painful for him, and I assume you're not going to try anything like that again. What you do need to realize, though, is that your power isn't a toy. You somehow manipulate the genetic structure of your target, and that isn't something to take lightly."

Most student's powers were fairly cut and dried. Things like ice and fire could be dangerous right off the bat, but in short order their owners got enough control to stop lighting the sheets on fire at night, and then the normal rules of human behavior applied. Abilities like Josh's telepathy, or Laurie's pheromones, or Danny's... whatever it was, were more problematic. Their use was an ethical question on a daily basis.

"Warren's mutation is physical. By deactivating his mutation, you somehow prompted his bones to begin restructuring themselves. I doubt you intended that to happen, but with an ability like yours, you can't afford to be blasé about its use. Maybe it would help to explain your thought process during the fight?" Ororo folds her hands in her lap and waits for a response.

[Tempero]

>"Correct. I'm aware that you're still developing control over your abilities, but I think it's time to consider the ethical implications of your powers, don't you?"

He nods slightly, contemplating whether to tell her that it was not so much the lack of control as much as it was the lack of thought that made him do what he did to Warren, but decides against it when she gestures towards the chairs. In a normal situation, her comment on this not being an inquisition would have produced laughter, but Danny feels like he is in far worse trouble than being hunted by medieval, psychotic sadists bent on finding witches.

He half-sits, half-falls into the armchair, eyes still fixed upon the floor, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, and her attempts at making him even the slightest bit more comfortable again completely wash over him, unseen, even though he somehow know what she is trying to do. Perhaps it is because he has been the one reassuring others so many times that recognizing it is instinctual.

>"Daniel, I think you realize that what you did today to Warren was incredibly painful for him, and I assume you're not going to try anything like that again. What you do need to realize, though, is that your power isn't a toy. You somehow manipulate the genetic structure of your target, and that isn't something to take lightly."

The mention of the pain Warren was in is enough to make Danny twitch visibly, unable to prevent himself, and then he nods slowly, confirming that he is definitely not going to be attempting it again. In fact, I don't think I'll ever use my power like that again... and then he remembers how Josh reacted when he boosted his power, and feels a large dose of guilt re-surging through his body. Perhaps he shouldn't use his power at all.

The way she put it, that he manipulates genetic structures of his targets, makes him even more certain of not wanting to use his power any more. "It...it won't happen...again...ever..." he says quietly, but then quiets down as she goes on.

>"Warren's mutation is physical. By deactivating his mutation, you somehow prompted his bones to begin restructuring themselves. I doubt you intended that to happen, but with an ability like yours, you can't afford to be blasé about its use. Maybe it would help to explain your thought process during the fight?"

He remains quiet for quite some time, perhaps even two or three minutes, as if trying to sort his thoughts out, even though they have never been clearer. It is simply hard to talk, for an odd reason. "Um..." he starts, and then the rest of the sentence just sort of blends away into the room, lacking the strength to actually be heard.

"I just...just wanted to stop him...and when I connected I was...I was thinking I could copy his power and...just..sort of attack him or something...but then I thought that maybe...maybe I could stop him by making him lose his mutation...and then when I started...it felt like I was pressing my...my will onto his genes, and then forcing them to retract...and after it all started it was just...just hard to...to...it was hard to stop...and for a moment...for just a moment...I think...I think...I think I enjoyed the...the..the feel of of it..." his voice breaks up towards the end, partially because of guilt, partially because of fear, and he looks at her, for the first time since he entered the room, but manages to suppress any tears that might have come, and they were definitely trying to come, and so the end effect is a pair of somewhat glassy, radiant green eyes that seem to have lost they usual warmth and friendliness, and substituted them for a mixture of profound sadness and crushing guilt and fear.

[Ororo Munroe]

> but then I thought that maybe...maybe I could stop him by making him lose his mutation...and then when I started...it felt like I was pressing my...my will onto his genes, and then forcing them to retract...and after it all started it was just...just hard to...to...it was hard to stop...and for a moment...for just a moment...I think...I think...I think I enjoyed the...the..the feel of of it..."
Storm presses her lips into a thin line. What on earth was she supposed to say to that? She stares across the room at the window for a few moments.

Ororo focuses on Danny, and regards him seriously. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but I did notice a disturbing expression on your face during the altercation. Between that, and your feeling of enjoying your power over others…” Ororo trails off, perplexed. “I’ll just come out and say it - it worries me, based on some of the Institute’s previous history.” She was determinedly not thinking about the whole Phoenix incident. The last thing they needed was for Danny to develop some kind of evil anti-friendly persona, intent on canceling people’s mutations out and delighting in pain.

Ororo uncrosses her legs and stands up, moving over to her desk, where she pulls a small card out of a desk drawer. “I’m not certain I can handle this situation myself.” She sits back in her chair. “This doesn’t appear to be a simple case of misbehavior, but possibly the first traces of something larger. If you feel comfortable, I’d like you to schedule a session with a psychologist to talk about some of these issues.”

She holds out the card for Danny. “Dr. Sean Garrison has worked with other patients from the Institute before, and from what I’ve heard, is both professional and effective. In addition, I’d like to schedule some precautionary fMRI scans with Hank and Joshua, to try to rule out…” What? Phoenix Syndrome? “… to rule out anything out of the ordinary.” Ororo finishes the sentence lamely, but moves forward.

“I’d also like you to take a look at this.” She scans the nearby bookshelf, and pulls a volume from it. “Most people here aren’t aware, but the late Professor Xavier was actually well published. He wrote this text on ethics.” Ororo smiles at Danny, and places the book on the sideboard. “It’s not directly concerning mutant abilities, of course, but I think you’ll find certain parallels.” She places a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming in to talk to me. I know that was a lot to process, but do you have any questions for me?”

[Tempero]

“I wasn’t going to bring this up, but I did notice a disturbing expression on your face during the altercation. Between that, and your feeling of enjoying your power over others…I’ll just come out and say it - it worries me, based on some of the Institute’s previous history.”

His eyes immediately lower, watching the floor again, this time not for guilt but for fear, incapable to look at those of Ororo. Why did I even mention it? Maybe it's nothing...just a passing thing...yeah, that's right, it's just a thing that happened. Nothing serious. And now what? he wonders, starting to fiddle with his sleeves, nervous, his fingers randomly moving, grabbing each other, pulling at the sleeves, finding something, anything, to do.

>“I’m not certain I can handle this situation myself.”

He still doesn't look up, but shudders slightly, thinking it would be either training sessions with Logan, the thought of whom always sends shivers down his spine, or long, long talks with someone else in the administration, probably Jake, whom he'd seen only on a couple of occasions, but seemed to be the type of person you would not to be in detention with even if your life was depending on it.

>“This doesn’t appear to be a simple case of misbehavior, but possibly the first traces of something larger. If you feel comfortable, I’d like you to schedule a session with a psychologist to talk about some of these issues.”

What the Hell?! his eyes look up at the woman now, filled with horror, as if he was told that he was about to be executed, or something else of the like. His phobias had made him see many psychologists, and it never helped in anything other than furthering his own depressions. And now he was told to go visit one, again, and for completely different reasons. The rest of what she says about the man is completely lost on him, mind and thoughts in turmoil. He does not what to go there, no, absolutely not. Definitely. Still, he takes the card and puts it into his pocket, simply not to be ungrateful for the help she is trying to give.

As she pulls out the book, he only marginally understands that it is on ethics, not really listening to the words. Did she say it was by Professor Xavier? he wonders for a second, and then stands up, doing all he can not to shove her hand away from his shoulder. He is not angry, no, just extremely sad, and he does not want her to see any tears that might just come. He extends a shaky hand, and takes the book, and it shivers for a bit as he pulls himself together, and then turns his head towards it, with the intention of hiding his face. His eyes are glassy, and he does not really see the title of the book, but the important thing is she is not able to see his face.

>“Thank you for coming in to talk to me. I know that was a lot to process, but do you have any questions for me?”

"N-n-no...I d-don't..." he says, using all his willpower not to just run away from the room. Instead, he remains standing, ignoring the fact that he looks rather dumb and perhaps a bit disrespectful just staring at the book in his still shaking hands. He waits for any reaction of hers, but says and does nothing.

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo stares over at Danny for a moment. His eyes are glassy, and he’s stock-still, as if in shock. What’s going on on? She chides herself internally. A lot has just happened, what with the medical scans, and the psychologist… Ororo stops still. Oh, dear… that was rather stupid. She wasn’t 100% sure, but she remembered something about him not having good experiences with psychologists in the past. Unfortunately, his file was somewhat incoherent on the subject of his medical history.

“Danny… talk to me. You look… well, you look awful.” Ororo steers him back into the chair. “I’m not Professor Xavier, or Jake, or Josh… I can’t tell what’s going on inside you. From the looks of it, though, you’re not feeling so good.”

Storm bites her lip slightly. Perhaps it had been a bad choice to try to go through any of this? No. Danny needs some kind of help, and you don’t have the training to give it. Beyond that, it’s for the safety of everyone else, as well. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

[Tempero]

His body seeming to be lacking any capability for resistance whatsoever, he lets himself be put into the chair again. He keeps on staring at the book in his hands, and then finally moves the right one up, wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes.

Her words at first simply slide over him, unheeded, not understood. And then he hears her telling him to explain what is wrong. Other than the fact that you're sending me to a psychologist in fear of me becoming a deranged sadist bent on massive mutation cancelation, nothing. he thinks for a moment, but says nothing. He is not going to go and see this Sean Garrison. It is one decision he does not intend to back away from, although he does have doubts about it. If she thinks that it is that serious, then it might be best to follow what she says.

His thoughts going on swarming and colliding, contradicting themselves, causing a headache, he decides to ignore them, and just stare at the book. "N-nothing..." he replies quietly, voice quavering, but still remains sitting there. All the strength seems to have poured out of him.

And he is not even sure why this has hit him so badly. Sure, he had bad experiences with psychologists in the past, but in retrospect it does not seem to have that bad. Was it?

[Ororo Munroe]

> "N-nothing..."

This begins to annoy Ororo. It was obvious that something was the matter. With her luck, Danny would walk out of the office and go on a rampage.

Getting some kind of reaction is better than none at all. The total lack of emotion was starting to worry her. Here goes nothing...

"Danny, I remember you've indicated interest in the X-Men periodically. In general, I expect the members of my team to be balanced, functioning members of society. Between attacking Warren and your insistence that everything is alright when it's very clearly not, you're not impressing me at this point." She gets up from the chair and crosses over to her desk, where she sits down and draws a stack of papers from her inbox.

Perhaps the ploy was a little below the belt, but it was true. Danny was barely showing the mental stability to work at McDonald's, let alone operate as a member of the X-Men. At this point, she was unsure whether it was some kind of shock, or actual mental dysfunction. She was questioning whether they'd have to have a psychiatrist do an evaluation without his consent.

Ororo's voice becomes slightly harder. "Unless you have anything else to tell me, this conversation is over." She focuses on the first sheet, and puts on her glasses.

[Tempero]

And there it comes. The reference to the X-men, an aspiration Danny has nurtured ever since he found out about them, and how he is not really going anywhere near making the cut with his current behavior is what drives him off the edge. It is, perhaps, his most sacred thing- the idea that one day he just might end up helping the team help the world- and shoving it down like that is most definitely a way to produce a reaction, in this case initially a very loud yelp, as if Manslaughter had just sent pain through his entire body, and then he just bursts out crying.

"I've just...had a very bad experience with shrinks...and I don't...don't like going to them...it makes me feel...like I'm crazy...deranged...a lunatic...and then that one time with the drugs...and they always bring up the locker...and keep insisting it's my own fault...and..." he breaks off on several different tangents at one time, and his eyes, still overflowing with tears, look up at her pleadingly, as if asking her not to send him to the slaughterhouse, which seems to have become the equivalent of a psychiatrist within the confines of his own mind. "and...now...with this...and Warren...and everything...what if...if I turn...evil...or hurt anyone else...and..." he adds a bit more to the general "confession", or at least an attempt at it, flailing his one arm ineffectively, trying to find most the words that he seems to have lost from his sentences.