<div class="floatleft">(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQIioE4u-I0me3KDOfucVBpF1f96YQ7VumCSQ&amp;usqp=CAU)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Cyclops</strong></span><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Scott Summers<br/><strong>Age:</strong>23<br/><strong>Gender Identity:</strong>Male<br/><strong>Location/Time:</strong>Outside to Mississippi?<br/><strong>Description/Wearing:</strong>colorblind dot ugly Xmas sweater, snug jeans, boots.  His signature visor.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jean | HyperJean | Deadpool | Rogue<br/><br/><hr/><br/>For a moment, or maybe forever, there was nothing.  He did not perceive sight, sound, or scent.  He felt neither warmth nor cold.  He did not even feel his own body; the sting of chihuahua bites was gone.  He could not feel his tongue moving to wet his mouth or his lips.  Or even his mouth or his lips.  There was no ground under him.  No air around him.  Was there even a him?  Somehow in all of it, his mind was conscious and it reeled back against the nothingness in horror.<br/><br/>The air was warm and humid.  He gasped in a breath and then expelled it forcefully, his lungs working again, existing again.  There was a gentle motion that told him before he opened his eyes that he was on a watercraft of some kind.  Scott's eyes opened behind his visor and he looked around.  They were on a boat, a riverboat like one would see on the Mississippi River.  And indeed, the water around them was brown as the Old Muddy's flow was expected to be and it was wide.  Jean was ahead of him and they were both moving towards the front of the boat.  The boat seemed to be heading to a dock and on that dock was the slender yet shapely form of Rogue.  The boat slid closer and a ramp fell.  Even as it did so, the Southern bombshell gestures for them to follow and called out to them before she turned and all but ran into the forest.<br/><br/>"Rogue, wait!"  But she was gone and moving, still moving as he could hear her in the forest even if she had moved out of view.  Scott took a moment to glance around.  There was no sign of Deadpool or of the, ah, extremely endowed version of Jean that he had been...grappling...with.  "Jean, let's go after her."  If Rogue had brought them here...this was her mind shaping things as she wanted them to be.  Or maybe as they needed to be for her to deal with them.  Either way, he wasn't about to stay here while she ran off.<br/><br/>Though it was bold of him, in the sort of way that he normally was not, he took Jean's hand and gently pulled her for just a moment as she seemed as dumbfounded as he by where they were and these strange but thankfully more subdued events.  Maybe it was also for himself.  To have some contact, some touch, after that instant or eternity of non-being.  Her hand was warm and soft, even in the balmy air.  "She needs you, I think, to settle all this.  Let's not keep her waiting."