"Hear it, see it, feel it, yeah." Jean looked down at her shoes. It wasn't what people thought. It wasn't like Back to the Future. It wasn't fun. It wasn't nice at all. But Jean shrugged it off and pretended to be perfectly nonchalant, "Oh, you know, opinions varied. Really ran the gamut between, like, angry arch-nemesis, tortured lover, total freak...though, honestly, the real treat was being kidnapped by an alien empire and put on trial for her 'warcrimes'. That was the best one."
Jean kicked her feet out and landed on them, stretching her arms up over her head. Looking around, yeah, this was better than all that. She consciously let go of the mental pocket in her brain that had been devoted to keeping up the psychic projection-- a part of the brain that no other person consciously used just by virtue of her mutation.
"I know. I did the same thing. I haven't stopped since joining the X-Men. It's been three years now. Two since I got ripped out of my timeline and into the future and, well, I wasn't going to stop there."
Looking over her shoulder at him, she added, "But speaking of teams. I do want to put together one. Been talking to some folks. Like some kind of strike team that goes through the doors and brings back stuff for the community. Maybe it's dangerous. Maybe it's not. Seems like a big roll of the dice. Does that sound interesting to you?"