<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/Y9I3Er3.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Salem Summers | “Cyclops”<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Yolande's Dormroom doorframe<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sept. 6th, 6:50 pm<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Meticulous<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Salem sort of prepares to leave, but lingers by the door for a moment to make sure Yolande doesn't want her to stick around.<br/><strong>wearing:</strong>red sweater in avatar photo. Blue jeans. black ballet flats. Hair up in a ponytail.<br/><hr/>Salem wasn’t quite sure how well she’d done on this visit. But it felt like a success. The redhead had trouble getting inside of anyone’s head around her, so it was difficult to gauge Yolande’s interest in anything. Salem thought for a moment that she might have gone too authoritarian, asking the girl to try her best to get along with the people around her. But, as her reaction to those words came into Salem’s view, she wasn’t that concerned after all.<br/><br/><em>‘Hell, I think she’s agreeing with me.’ - ‘Although, that was a bit of a one up…’ </em>Salem smiled, she had no interest in trying to prove which one of them had had a more difficult time being a mutant. She’d played the same game with orphans before she came to the mansion. ‘My life is worse than your life’ was a game that she had never much enjoyed playing. Even though, she did accidentally get herself into it pretty often. Salem tried to help those around her, and relating stories of her life to theirs always felt like a good idea. Sometimes it backfired. Times like these, it wasn’t so bad. Salem let out a gentle laugh at the mention of starting a war.<br/><br/><em>'The war started a long time ago.'</em>Salem had no illusions. She felt like this conflict had boiled over when she was still in highschool. But she didn't want to say it out loud and make it sound like she was trying to belittle Yolande's horrible experience. Salem wanted the fight at this point, though. She was only waiting to be put out into the fray. Just because she was cooped up in the mansion, Salem didn’t feel the safety that some of the others felt on a daily basis. She was angry about the bullshit going on in the world. She wanted to change it, to get up, get out and fight with it face to face. For Yolande, she might have been choosing to stay on the sidelines, and avoid the conflict. Salem had been training for years to be as helpful in that conflict as possible.<br/><br/>As Salem reached down to take the notebook back, she answered Yolande’s question about training.<strong>“Ah yes, there are some significantly advanced technical facilities here, under the mansion.”</strong>Salem didn’t want to say too much right away,<strong>“We have plenty of places where you can stretch out your legs and test your limits. Keep in touch, maybe you and I can go down to the danger room sometime and take out our aggression on some oversized robot-baby sentinel- bastards.” </strong><br/><br/>The redhead was moving toward the door.<strong>“If you need anything, you know where to find me, oh here.”</strong>Salem scratched out her cell phone number so that Yolande could call her as well. Ripping the paper, she left the note on the counter by the door.<strong>“You can call me anytime, I rarely sleep, and when I do, I’m easy to wake.”</strong><br/><br/>Salem set herself up by the door, prepared to leave if Yolande was out of questions.<strong>“Meet me in the office after classes tomorrow, and we’ll put out a shipment for your things.”</strong>Salem’s smile as honest, if not a bit of an exhausted expression.<strong>“Anything else? I don’t want to be a bother for you.”</strong>Salem’s eyes drifted about, downward and off to the side. She didn’t like pleasantries, but she used them constantly all the same. She didn’t really want to leave, she felt like she was getting along with Yolande. But, she didn’t really have a reason to be there. With her hand on the doorknob, she waited the appropriate amount of time without lingering one bit.