2013-01-25 Surprise! It's a girl!

Even superhero-clandestine-paramilitary leaders need peanut butter.

Scott walks down the aisle of the supermarket looking between a couple brands and then has a difficult decision to make. Crunchy or smooth? He likes them both.

No, she hasn't been lurking in or near Westchester. The young lady nicknamed Marvel Girl (by her father) had finally gathered enough information to have a basic idea what in the world is going on in this era, has laid her plans to figure out what to do next, since her attempts to enlist the aid of some scientists her parents had once known had failed... she can't get back home. And now, she has to see if things are the same here, in Dutchess County, as the fragments of her memory allows her to remember.

Rachel has finally begun her journey to the school she once called home, but is it the same here? And as she's walking down the aisles, searching for /just/ the right items (from a survivalist's view), a familiar face is seen. And her stroll misses a beat. She swallows once, but steels herself. She'd have to face this at some point or other.

Scott has finally decided. He's going to have both. He plops one of each into the basket he keeps on his arm and looks up. "J..." No, it's not Jean. Wow, this young lady looks almost exactly like Jean Grey. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Rachel's lips quirk faintly with amusement. "I have been told that I have my mother's face," she states politely, her voice quiet, low-pitched, keeping it casual so as not to alarm anyone else shopping at the moment. "My name's Rachel," she adds, holding a hand out to shake in the way of a lady meeting a gentleman friend... definitely weird cos this is 'daddy' to her. "I've come a long way to get here. Had a plan on how I was going to introduce myself and where... but I suppose this is as good a place as any. Have you got the time for a crazy story?" she then asks, namedropping, "Scott."

Scott's eyebrows raise high as she mentions his name. "How..." he shakes her hand as an afterthought. "I think I'd better make time, Rachel. Is here a good place?"

Rachel Summers glances around, a calculatingly casual look, one that someone in the business might easily recognize as that of a fellow person in the biz. Someone not trained would just think she was gawping around. She nods. "It is for me, if it's okay for you." She pauses for a moment. "Might as well get the crazy out of the way... I'm from the future... a different future, I think, but yeah, not from around here." She jerks a thumb toward the exit to the store. "I grew up around here. Up at Xavier's." Discreet, minding the fact they're in public.

It's been a downright crazy couple weeks. Phoenix force leaving Jean. Bobby dying and coming back. X-men overthrowing third world countries. And now this. Scott is speechless, "The future?"

Rachel Summers nods. Once again checking around to ensure no one's paying them any mind, she carefully extracts a clearly futuristic PDA out of her jacket pocket. She runs it through a couple of basic sequences. Not cutting-edge, but well beyond the edge. "About a quarter-century down the line."

Scott gulps and looks at it, shocked. "Ho...how?"

Rachel Summers shrugs a bit. "I'm not sure /why/... I have a few theories as to /how/... but I got dumped back here and now... and things aren't exactly as how mom and dad told me about it... but I can't get back home... and life is a lot nicer here." She sighs briefly. "Things didn't go well in my time."

Scott continues to look at the device. "I've got some place you can stay. I need to speak with Professor, but I can do that on the way home." Read: The Professor will need to check things out. "I mean, do you need a place to stay?"

"Need?" Rachel echoes with a shrug. "Not need, no. I've been in this time for a few months now and made do. Like I said, things didn't go well in the future I remember, so what you might consider living rough is actually something of a luxury for someone like me. Folks like us weren't living in palaces for the past ten or so years..."

Scott nods, "Well, if I can arrange a meeting, I'd very much like you to meet the Professor." Then, gravely, he asks, "What happened? In your time?

Rachel Summers nods, looking away and putting the PDA back in her pocket before the lady passing them gives them more than a brief glance to see if they're standing in front of the peanut butter she wanted. The redhead waits a minute or two for the other woman to get out of earshot before answering. "The government turned on us. It was a second holocaust. We fought back, of course. Things weren't going all that well, but we still kept going."

Scott sighs and nods, "You...you look amazingly like Jean Grey from our school. I mean, are you related to her or something?"

Rachel Summers thinks about the best method for saying the truth, whether she should hide it or... to hell with it. "I should. I'm her daughter. And yours, coincidentally." It's a quiet statement, and she hesitates before speaking the truth. But now it's out there. "Hence the other half of the 'this is so crazy'. I'm okay with whatever tests you want me to go through, including the Professor checking things out... it's what I would do if the situation were reversed... it's what my dad, the one from my world... taught me was the right call." She smiles faintly. "It's weird seeing you so young... not enough grey hair."

Scott shakes his head slowly, "But Jean and I...we're not even together. This is the future?" His face looks a bit saddened by it. Definitely more to the story. "Grey hair? Wonderful."

Rachel Summers grins a bit at the light teasing, her eyes twinkling with some mirth, which makes her look years younger and less world-weary that she generally does. However, her smile fades. "Not even together? Hmm. Maybe I didn't land in a parallel world, but one that splintered off even before my arrival here," she muses aloud, adopting a thinker's sort of pose. "I wonder how far back things are different. That's the downside to not having been alive yet in this year, or old enough to remember, I can't actually tell. The basic thrust of world events is the same, I found that out when I went on walkabout... but hmm. At least it isn't /worse/ than how things were back home... /there/, half the world was all blue nonagon." A weird phrase, but apparently the language shifted, or things changed somehow to create new slang.

Scott watches her and just sort of shakes his head. "I want you to meet Hank too. What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Not a thing, Scott," Rachel answers with a mild grin. "I've done my world recon, so this was the next place I had to turn up, see if I'd be welcome, or at least, see if I could help the Professor do what he does best. A purple parallel, for sure."

Scott nods to himself, "I think you'd better come with me. I think we're going to want to figure this out sooner rather than later."

Rachel Summers nods. "Sure thing," the redhead agrees readily. "But don't forget the jelly to go with your peanut butter. And a loaf of bread... god, I haven't had a good PBJ in years..."

Scott chuckles, "Of course, I can't forget the jelly. Come on, when we get to the mansion, I'll make you one."

Rachel Summers lets out a smile of relief. "That went better than I thought it would," she admits, heaving a sigh and stilling the nervousness causing her to shake a little bit. "I don't know what I was afraid of... I hope you'll forgive me if I accidentally call you dad... you're /not/ really my dad as such... but instincts... eh."

Scott chuckles, "Well, I can guarantee I won't call you daughter. I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet." He scoops a jar of jelly into his hand and makes for the check out aisle. "Let's get out of here."