<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/L2ZRxfT.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Salem Summers<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Charles Xavier's Office<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 9th - 9:50 am<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Charles Xavier<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Salem waking up and getting prepared the day after the mission with the rioters and protestors. She walks to Xavier's office, walks in, and greets the professor.<br/><hr/><br/>Salem Summers had been given a day off, and sleeping in was difficult for her to do. The riot from the night before was loud in her memory, but she'd had a dreamless and quiet sleep. She'd woken up at just after 6:00 the first time, and struggled to find sleep again. Checking the time required glasses, so she didn't do it often. The feeling of having a naked face had been hardwired into her brain as a dangerous sensation. It had taken years, but she trusted herself to sleep without protection on. There had been no memory between 6:30 and 7:15, so there had to have been some dreamless sleep somewhere. After that, she just kept her glasses on and layed there, looking around her room.<br/><br/>She'd  woken up that morning with a sharp pain in her neck and countless bruises along her arms and legs. she'd spent more time in bed than usual, and some fresh scrapes and cuts had stuck to the sheets when she finally crawled out. It was almost 8:00 as she finally started to stir, forty five minutes was enough time to call it quits. The lack of comfort was less of a problem for Salem than it ought to have been, she was in high spirits that morning<br/><br/><em>'10:00 am. Big day.' </em>Salem felt herself sticking to the sheets, sharp pain followed the blankets detaching from her scrapes and abrasions. Still though, she was smiling, and laughing. She'd had these types of wounds before, getting out of bed this soar was a sadistic joy for her. It meant she'd done something to deserve this pain. And she felt like she'd done good the night before.<br/><em><br/>'I'll send you into the field when you're ready Salem.' - 'That's how you'll know.' </em>Charles voice was in her head when she woke, and she was fairly certain he wasn't in there making it happen. It was excitement, anticipation. Salem didn't know for certain, but she had a pretty good idea of what her first deployment in the field meant. And mostly, it meant that she wasn't a student anymore. 'But, I'm ready now, Professor. You know I'm ready now.' She could hear her younger self too in her memory as she found the strength to pull the blankets away completely. She exhaled in a soft chuckle, and groaned as her feet swung over the bed.<br/><br/>When she sat up a powerful headrush caused an immediate earthquake to rattle between her temples. Headaches were a particular problem for Salem. She didn't have them regularly, but when she did have them, it felt like her brain was about to explode. The pressure was sometimes too much to bear. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut.<br/><br/>Standing up was painful, everything was soar. She stood up straight and brought a hand to the nape of her neck in an attempt to wear away at the knot there. Salem's neck and shoulders took the brunt of her stress physically. She bunched up there, and held all of her tension in her shoulders.<br/><br/>Stretching was painful too, but she fought through it and went through a short routine to get her blood moving.<br/><br/>By 8:20, she'd found her way into the shower, and she was finally dressed by about 9:00. Nothing felt right. She was wearing a pair of jeans, and a simple white halter top. It was a modest blouse that was concealing as well as sleeveless. The red head wasn't sure what to do with herself. She attended school every day. She was miles ahead of where most twenty two year old people. Her ruby-quartz glasses were in front of her deadly eyes. She opted for the easier, lighter option. Her head was pounding, the visor created extra pressure that she definitely didn't need.<br/><br/>Her daily routine was shot and she hadn't mentally prepared for anything really. She knew that she would be talking to the professor in about an hour. Her goal was to get rid of this headache.<em> 'It's not related to the beams...' </em>Salem told herself. The headaches always came in the morning, and they came fairly randomly. So, she felt fine blaming it on dehydration.<br/><br/>Finding her desk chair, she thought it would be smart to check her email and sort through messages on the school's website. She usually did that at about 6:45 every morning, so it was possible that a few people were waiting for a response. She was correct. And she couldn't keep herself from smalling when she saw the name 'Charles Xavier' in her inbox.<em> 'He doesn't send emails.' </em>Salem saw him around the mansion, and she had scheduled meetings with him three or four times a month. And she knew full well what the email would be. But, it still felt special to recieve it. He typically didn't ever do that. They usually planned their next meetings in person, when she opened the body of the message, she was even more excited. 10:00 couldn't come fast enough.<br/><br/><hr/><hr/>Salem left her room well before she needed to do so, being punctual was important to her, especially on such an important day. She'd taken some extra strength excedrin to try and knock out the fissure cracking head pain she was having. There had been some food with the pills, but not quite enough. Almost all food before 11:00 made her queazy. By the time she was walking through the corridors towards Xavier's office, the head ache was starting to fade away.<br/><br/>The excedrin had kicked in completely, she was sure of it. And still, the suggestion of a head ache was loud in her mind. The pain was dull now though, and calmer. She put a sweater on over her halter top and some modest balet flats. She didn't want to show off the bruises up and down both arms, so covering them seemed like the best option.<br/><br/>Arriving at about 9:50, Salem did what she always did, she knocked with one hand as she turned the knob with the other and politely walked in, softly closing the door behind her.  Cyclops was always early for these meetings, and Xavier wasn't always there when she arrived. She never minded when he was missing at first. She was well aware that he would always show. She turned to face his desk with a smile on her face to see him sitting there behind it. Her hand lifted to wave, but she just put it up and dropped it without any actual waving.<br/><br/>Her head was still pounding as she made her way over to his desk.<strong>"Good Morning Professor." - "I got your email. Did you really think I would forget?"</strong>She was teasing her mentor. They had had the conversation close to a year ago about her becoming a member of the team. But it had been a constant topic in their talks, and she thought about it often. The chaos from the night before was far from glorious. But the accomplishment was washing over her before the conversation even started.<br/><br/>She carefully set herself down in the chair opposite Xavier on her side of the desk.<strong>"The message said that you wanted to talk to me about something." </strong>Salem didn't know how to start the conversation exactly. She wanted to talk about the mission, but that was too fresh and there was no way the blowback had settled in a matter of hours. She wanted to tell him how well she'd done, she wanted to dive into it,<em>'do I get my own locker?!!'</em>Her mind was hot with excitement as she kept her lips buttoned together,<em>'Can I fly the plane now that I did a mission!' - 'I'm the newest x-man right? I would never forget, Professor it's all I think about.' - 'I'm too excited.'</em><br/><br/>As active as her mind was, her body was still. Salem's crimson glare was active behind the ruby quartz. The shade and hue of the semi-floreuscent lenses never changed as Salem was shifting her eyes around the room.<br/>