Cyclops was right and he wishes he wasn't (cyclopswasright) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-05-23 03:49:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, alma wade, scott summers (cyclops) |
"Let me at least call the police. They can take you there."
Who: Scott and Alma
What: Scott encounters Alma and tries to help her.
Where: Somewhere
When: Early early in the morning. Maybe an hour or so after this
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13 for mild violence
Scott had driven in circles for half an hour before he just picked a direction and went with it. Even though he'd woken up before he'd learned what was in the box he had managed to glean some more insight into this world, and Emma.
He knew there was a group of them. He suspected his kill squad would be in that box, but there were probably other things. And what had Emma meant to show him? Sharing minds would make understanding that woman so much easier.
This much he knew was true; Emma Frost was a complicated puzzle, and getting her to open up would be akin to scaling Olympus, but he was going to try.
He was driving through a less than savory neighborhood, most of the streetlights busted or flickering. Someone ran across the road and he swerved to avoid them. Three others were chasing the first, and in his headlights all he saw was three men chasing a teenage girl.
Scott got out of his car, tackling one man and smashing his face into the cement. He got back to his feet to give chase to the other two. The girl was swift, giving meaning to the old bat out of hell phrase, but her pursuers were beginning to catch up to her. He tripped one, and then kept on running after them.
Alma hazarded a glance back in time to see a new man punch the remaining chaser in the back of his head. This new person made quick work of him and she slowed down, though didn't stop running.
Scott continued after her, "Hey! Wait! I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help."
Slowing to a stop, Alma turned, stuffing a hand in her pocket and gripping a knife. She thought of Roy, and Kitty, and Scotty. She thought of Azula. She didn't know who this man would be, but something in his tone and his posture made her want to believe in him.
Scott approached cautiously, holding his hands palms out, "My name is Scott. Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, "I was just trying to sleep." She didn't know how she'd been found. She was running on fumes and just wanted to sleep, but she wasn't about to trust a stranger so easily anymore. Especially not someone who could easily overpower her.
"Sleep? Do you have a place to live?" He stopped a few feet away, and kept his hands in sight for her.
"Not any more." Her eyes darted around, studying all the escape routes.
"What's your name?"
"Alma."
"I can take you to a safe place," Scott replied. "It's a ranch for troubled youth. You'll be safe there. You can sleep there."
Alma was beginning to think this ranch was some kind of mythical Camelot, "Do you know Roy?"
"He works there. So do I. I can take you there."
She frowned, torn. Then she shook her head, "No. I'll get there on my own."
"Let me at least call the police. They can take you there."
Alma stared into his eyes. He didn't cringe away, though the shiver that ran down his spine certainly tempted him to. She said, "No. He owns the police."
She darted off, and he tried to follow her, but when he turned the corner she was gone.