ArchivedLogs:The Round Table

The Round Table
Dramatis Personae Jennifer, Jackson, Kurt Wagner 1.0
In Absentia	2013-05-07 Advisors gather to discuss important things. Warning, contains more explosions than a Michael Bay film.
Location <XS> Teachers' Lounge - B1
Running a school for mutant teenagers just taking control of their powers is not an easy job, and the teachers at Xavier's deserve a place to come and relax. This lounge is their place to come and de-stress, and it does not skimp for relaxation. The room is elegant and luxurious, plush couches making up the seating in the lounge and a glossy glassy bar wrapping around one wall, well-stocked with alcohol (and perpetually fresh-brewed coffee, for those so inclined. A large-screen high-def television hangs on one wall, stocked with about as many movies and games as the childrens' rec room upstairs. High bookshelves hold a wealth of books. The fridge here is always well stocked, and the cook is always willing to make deliveries down to this level. Far in the back, a hot tub is submerged into the floor, for still more unwinding. Generally, Jennifer much prefers the privacy and comfort of her own room before the classes start. On this auspicious Tuesday morning, however, the redhead can be found in the teacher's lounge, pouring herself another cup of coffee. Out of the three that have agreed to meet, she is the earliest of all birds. This teacher is dressed in the usual attire that her students see her inside of classrooms - a dark brown jacket and matching office slacks. A modest white blouse is worn beneath the jacket, while her feet are snug in their plain black high heels. Her fiery locks are worn loose, as is often the case outside of the gym. Setting the glass pot back into the coffee machine, she checks her smartphone with a bit of a scowl. One could guess that she disapproves what she sees, but in truth she just has difficulty navigating the maze that are the damned apps. Absent-mindedly, she adds sugar into the coffee. What? She needs the energy. Double the energy. All the energy. Especially for the upcoming conversation. Jackson is just punctual rather than early; he is generally always just punctual and today is no different. He shows up after his customary morning swim looking as professional as always -- that is to say, not /very/ given that he is a teacher here and not a student. He has black capri pants liberally hung with straps, knee-high brightly coloured mismatched socks, chunky black-and-silver platform sneakers, a purple sleeveless top over a three-quarter-length silver fishnet shirt. Hair dyed kind of reminiscent of a bird of paradise. A lot of glittery makeup. He carries with him the distinct tang of chlorine as well as a boxy black bag that quietly rattles with the shift of art supplies inside. There's a /warmth/ to him, there generally is -- present both in the actual /heat/ that radiates unnatural-high even for him, at the moment, and also in his quick-easy smile. His voice is preeeetty reserved with his quiet, "G'morning, Jennifer." He sets his bag down by a couch, slipping over to get himself a mug of coffee, too. Chlorine, coffee, and brimstone--all in all, a pretty average morning at the Xavier's School. The lattermost of the scents and the muffled BAMF sound is most of the warning those inside the Teacher's Lounge get, before the door is swinging open again and in bursts one of the school's various blue-colored people. This one is a great deal /darker/ blue than most. He's also an unashamed 'morning person', which means Kurt is all ready for the day ahead, barefoot but otherwise dressed in some precarious balance of casual formality, a pair of black, crisply creased dress slacks paired with a white dress shirt--sleeves rolled up, top two buttons undone--and a dark red vest. The vest is completely done up. His eyes and smile are bright as he trots into the room, pulling the door closed behind him with his tail. "Guten morgen, meine Freunde! How, as they say, is it hanging?" Noting Jackson's approach, Jennifer actually takes initiative in providing him with a mug. "Morning", she replies, setting the mug down on the glassy bar counter. There is a bit of unease to her demeanour; not just due to her encounter with one of the twins, but also due to the fact they have gone missing. Once she pockets her phone, she reaches out to grab the coffee pot again. "Coffee, Jax?" And then comes the BAMF. The redhead looks up from the bar, knowing full well who has just arrived. Curious eyes scan the blue-skinned colleague. "Morning, Kurt", she offers to him, as well. And that uneasiness is just as present in this case, as well. Shane is his advisee, after all. "Limp, I'm afraid." There goes that lip of hers. "Limp and flaccid." "Morning!" Jackson chirrups this a little bit more brightly, his smile returning quick and easy. "It's --" His nose crinkles, and he nods at Jennifer's offer, though it takes a moment of delay before he offers her his mug to fill. The smile he turns back towards Kurt is crooked, slightly at first and then rather moreso with Jennifer's turn of phrasing. "Had better days, I gotta say." His metallic-purple nails tap against the side of his mug in quick staccato. "Had worse ones, too, though. How're you?" His tone manages to skew back towards chipper again but -- but. The way he is eyeing Jennifer is definitely /not/. He doesn't /say/ anything about the topic at hand, though. He just waits. For coffee, maybe? "Liebchen, this is a terrible pity." Kurt tells Jennifer brightly, his gait an odd almost trotting thing as he moves towards the place in the room where one Acquires Coffee and, possibly waits his turn. "If you are having peformance issues, I am certain Herr Doktor can look into the problem for you, ja?" There's something worried behind his eyes and beneath his cheerful words, however, which is largely betrayed by the way his tail flicks with anxious energy just near its spade, back and forth. "I am well, Jackson, thank you for asking. I quite enjoy spring." Jackson's mug is duly filled with coffee. She would wait for a hand gesture or for her colleague to outright tell her what amount of coffee he prefers. The pot would still be held up afterwards, however. "Kurt, you want coffee, too?" As impatient as she is, she lifts up her own cup. This is the second time Jackson sees her lose her drink. This time, it happens when Kurt replies to Jennifer. What little amount of coffee she manages to sip is lost and returned to the cup. Smacking her coffee-stained lips together, she looks back up to Kurt. "/Seriously/?" Jackson is eyed next, as if to confirm what she has just heard. The cup is eyed again, but ultimately Jennifer sets it back down. Her attention shifts between the two. Although her gaze is initially indecisive, Jackson is the one she pays mind to the most, in the end. The amusement that the brief misunderstanding has brought about seems to wane. Her emerald eyes seem a contrasting mixture of stubbornness and regret. "S'good, thanks," Jackson takes his cup to doctor his coffee -- soy milk and enough sugar to render it more akin to coffee-flavoured syrup. His head dips at Kurt's answer to Jennifer, lips twitching slightly upwards, though it's a fleeting sort of smile. He puts the soy milk back in the fridge, moves away to take up a perch on the arm of the couch. He perches lightly, a faint bounce to his leg that indicates a restless energy that might carry him back into motion at any moment. "I been gardening a lot," is how he chooses to answer Kurt eventually. "Spring's great for -- for helping things /flourish/." His single eye cuts over to Jennifer at this, lips thinning slightly prior to a sip of his coffee. "And s'been amazing weather for it. Kinda takes some care, though, y'don't treat your crops right and they'll just up and wither on you." Seeing Jennifer spit her coffee back into her mug, Kurt only smiles--not the megawatt fang-flasher but something more subdued, which does not show off his teeth. A mug is acquired so that he can hold it out hopefully. "Ja, bitte. Not pre-sipped, though, I would much prefer fresh." Despite the solemn pall that hangs over the little gathering...well, he's still Nightcrawler, and bad jokes come with the territory. "I was never very good at growing things." This is most likely directed to Jackson, although what Kurt's featureless eyes are pointing at can be difficult to tell sometimes. "But I do appreciate the outcome. Better than the snow, I have very little use for snow." That coffee is simply not destined to be consumed. Just as Jennifer brings the brim to her lips, Jackson's carefully worded answer replies; the subliminal messaging is enough to cast aside her intent to drink. The cup lands back on the counter, while Jennifer's judgemental scowl lands on Jackson. It becomes apparently clear Jennifer is not the sort to appreciate subtlety. Then again, a woman like her - who is surprised? "Oh? Speaking from /experience/, Jackson, or are you trying to be funny?" Circling around Jax, Jen walks over to Kurt. Her amusement is briefly resuscitated as she fills Nightcrawler's mug, eyeing him with a mild crooked grin. "Let's skip the breaking of ice, shall we, gentlemen?" Jennifer's spontaneity is all but gone. Even her posture changes. She firmly strides back to her previous spot to put away the coffee. Although she lifts her coffee cup again, she turns to the two men, focusing on the conversation instead. "Chronological order makes the most sense. So, my conversation with Shane Holland." "Plenty of experience, Jennifer." Jackson answers scowl with his same mild-gentle ease, quiet in tone as his eye focuses on Jennifer. He lifts his coffee, takes a slow sip. "I ain't trying to be funny. I don't think there's anything funny about this whole situation." And then quiet. And listening. Because he's heard Shane's side of this but. He sips his drink again, waiting for Jennifer to speak. "Danke schoen, Jennifer." Kurt says quietly once he has coffee in his mug, and he falls silent. Instead of interrupting the conversation with another jaunt, he walks to the couch where Jackson sits. As easily as walking on the floor, he walks up the opposite arm so that he can crouch on the back, feet gripping the back of the piece of furniture and both hands carefully cradling the mug in his hands. He is the very picture of gargoyled attentiveness. "You're welcome, Kurt." The lack of prodding spurs a momentary frown. Jennifer takes a minuscule sip from her cup, which this time manages to stay. Baby steps. "Yes, I suppose it's better if I don't know what he has told you. In fact, the way I am going to relay this story, I am going to assume neither of you have spoken to Shane or are aware of the situation-- Which, Jackson, I will agree is far from funny." Here comes the court attitude. Another sip is stolen from the cup before she begins, walking away from the bar and following the men. "Thursday last week, Kai missed class. Let me remind you how unlikely that is for a meek boy who is glad to trade the cramped walls of a cruel research facility for the welcoming safety of this school. I have personally searched for him the entire afternoon, until I finally found him all bunched up in the treehouse. I did not ask what Shane told him, I was too busy trying to shake a student I have chosen to be personally responsible for out of a depressed state." "I don't think I need to remind you of what lies on the other side of Kai." A cool steel gaze lands on Jackson. "Least of all /you/, Jackson." Dramatic pause. "So, I decided to talk to Shane the following day. After some searching, I have found the Holland twin by the lake. I have learned from my mistake with Shelby. I tried talking. No locked classrooms, no water pistols. I've told him I would speak to him as a teacher, and /then/ as a friend. But the second half never came. Shortly after telling him off for what he said to Kai-- It took Shane a record amount of time to victimize himself, telling me like I don't know how Kai is not the only problem child." "Any questions so far, or can I proceed?" Jackson's fingers tighten around his coffee mug. From him, though, this is just about the only response Jennifer gets, so far, his even-calm expression unchanging. He sips at his coffee, and tips his head in an acknowledging nod: Go ahead. Although the rest of him is relatively still--for Kurt--his tail keeps tempo behind him, clearly unhappy. Still, Nightcrawler only shakes his head. "No questions so far." Say what you will about lawyers, and likely anything you might say will actually be true. Of all of their traits, the way they choose to be ruthlessly blunt is appreciated by the very few. Yet Jennifer does not change her tone as she continues, having received the blessing from both men. "Thank you." Courtesy, however thin or trivial, is still there. "Following that, things became much more heated. There is only so much swearing and resistance I can - or should - tolerate. As much as I value my memory, I can't recite the entire conversation. What I /can/ quote from myself, however, is this - 'it looks to me like you are still living in your cage'. Which sums up my opinion about Shane Holland. I am aware of the troubled past the twins have, the way they were viewed as mere animals for the sake of sick entertainment. I can't speak for Sebastian, but Shane is unwilling to leave that behind. Kai shares a similar past, and yet he is well on his way to recovery." "Shane's reply is easier to remember." The next words roll sharply off her tongue. "/Fuck you/ is what he told me. He told me I am ignorant of him and the situation. He then proceeded to depart, although our conversation extended a brief period longer." The same gesture as before is extended. "Any questions before the last act in this ludicrous story?" Another shake of head from Jackson. That's all. The commentary about animals in cages has Kurt's tail picking up a bit of momentum--it hits close to home. Luckily he manages not to smack Jackson in the back of the head with it, instead hooding his eyes a bit and takes a long drink of coffee, offering only, "If you have not been in that situation, it is often hard to understand the effect it has on a young soul. We all recover at our own paces." That being said, he falls silent again, shaking his head once more. Jennifer offers a slow affirmative nod to Kurt. "I am well aware, Kurt, even if I can't brag having the exact same experience. But when one student endangers another, who in turn can become a hazard to the entire school-- That becomes irrelevant. It is our obligation to accelerate the healing process to the best of our ability, as it is the obligation of the student to cooperate." Her story is continued shortly after a sigh. Despite the dip in her demeanour, the steel attitude returns. "Shane began to walk off in the middle of a conversation, falsely stating that I am not his teacher and therefore have no sway over him. While he is correct that I cannot personally school him - which is why I contacted you two - any harm done to students I am responsible for will bring me to him. He seemed intent on believing I was insulting him. In a way, he was right - I called him a hypocrite. That, however, followed up with what could easily be seen as a threat. That is where I draw the limit. I have stopped following him, and he left." Falling silent, she tends to her coffee. By now, it's merely lukewarm. Yich. Through all this Jackson has been quiet. His expression is unchanging, a flat quiet calm as he watches Jennifer and sips at his coffee. His words are quiet, too, when she finally finishes and he lowers his mug to rest against his thigh. "I ain't here to defend Shane, Jennifer. Lord knows he's got the attitude problems of an entire high school rolled into one kid. And you /shouldn't/ have to stand there and put up with his insults." His grip on his mug is growing less tight, one hand lifting absently to adjust the strap of his eyepatch. "But /you/ -- you ain't a teenager yourself. /You/ are expected to be more in control of your tongue than they are. You're /also/ expected to have some modicum of care dealing with problem students. These kids ain't in /court/ with you, you ain't here to argue their crimes. And you show repeatedly that you don't know the first thing about dealing with students who don't fit into your idea of how they should behave." His voice doesn't raise, here, not once, the calm in his expression steady. Around the room, though, there's a brief ripple, the light fluctuating dimmer, too-bright, then steadying out again. "Shane's behavior is -- was -- not excusable. But if you can't deal with students like him without calling them /animalistic/ and telling them to get /over/ themselves because /you've seen worse/ than what they dealt with, you should maybe call in a more experienced teacher to help instead of rising to their insults. And Jennifer? You /don't/ know him or his situation. /You/ have no /idea/ the life the twins had before here. You think one sentence in their file saying they were locked up is enough to tell you? Cuz it ain't. And if you think your word choice was in /any way/ appropriate you might should rethink how you deal with people altogether." There's another slow breath here, deep and perhaps steadying, betrayed by the additional flicker of lights around them. "And you got a habit of jumping to the worst conclusion 'bout people. Shane told me the conversation -- pretty much similar to what you done said, he didn't hold /back/ about what he said to you, but with a little more detail on /your/ replies to him. He weren't /threatening/ you, Jennifer. He said you ain't never calling him an animal again because he's /leaving school/. The world already calls him animalistic plenty, he don't really need it from the teachers here, too. You ain't wrong that he was /entirely/ out of line. But you don't really seem to even know where the line /is/ with these kids." Now, it is Kurt's turn to be quiet. His attention seemingly remains on his coffee, but his tail, his tail is nearly a blur, his fur standing up on end against his clothing. Seeing as the coffee has dropped to an undesirable temperature, Jennifer abandons the idea of drinking it, even if she remains to hug it with both hands. Two digits rap against the ceramic surface. For one who is supposedly impulsive, she retains a level demeanour that is hard to read. She is calm, yet there is more to it-- or less to it, depending on how one looks at it. While Jackson speaks, Jennifer is the calmest surface of water. "Fascinating." That is the first word that escapes Jennifer. It is absolutely devoid of emotion, as is her demeanour. It looks like Jackson's reminder that she is not in court fell on deaf ears. "You are not here to defend Shane." That sentence is recited with careful precision, and each word is enunciated prominently. The next words begin to attain firmness. "And yet you have ranted without pause or relief, insulting me and doing exactly just that - defending Shane. Need I remind you, Jackson, of the staggering measure of bias you hold in this situation as a legal guardian. I am starting to see where Shane is getting his attitude from." And then he goes completely ignored. Her attention falls onto Kurt next. "His words were, 'You have not fucking seen me as an animal. And that is the last fucking time you ever get to call me one'. Any sane individual would see that as a threat, something Jackson unfortunately fails to grasp. At any rate, Kurt-- The reason I have contacted you two is because I wanted /you/ two to arrive to a consensus that will hopefully retain Shane in this school without posing a danger to other students." "You don't know Shane, Jennifer, and you don't know me. What /I/ know is that Shane isn't the /first/ student you've nearly driven off from this school. It's not /insulting/ you to point out when you misstep, and if you think it is? You're just going to keep doing the same." The lights flicker again. Jax's expression doesn't. He looks away from Jennifer, to Kurt. "Shane's made the decision to leave. I didn't come here to figure out a way to make him come back. I /want/ him to come back but it's his choice to make and I ain't gonna force him to stay somewhere that treats him like -- well, an animal. I /came/ here because he's /missing/ and probably in trouble and whether he comes home or comes to school I want him somewhere -- safe." "Both of you, /stop it/." Kurt's voice is suddenly strident, a quick snap of sound that fills the room. "Fighting amongst ourselves about this achieves nothing. I have not spoken to Shane about this, I did not even realize he had decided to leave the school. But here is what I am thinking, if anyone /cares/." First Kurt looks to Jennifer, his tail writhing and something in his expression hard. "Forgive me, Fraulein, as I consider you a friend, but you lack a great deal of what one might call /subtlety/. Your touch is not the most gentle. This is all well and good, it is a strength in many situations, but /this is not one of them/. You have said yourself, you do not even know what Shane has said to Kai. It is /entirely possible/ whatever it was he said was not intended to be the trigger that it was. Did you ask him this, or did you come to find him and immediately assume he acted with malicious intention? All of the children here are troubled in some way or another, some /much more/ than the others. You must hold yourself above such reactions, even if you are being cursed at, even if you think you are being threatened. He is a /child/, a /teenager/, were you not ever such a creature? They are impetuous, they say things they most sincerely do not mean. They are still finding their place in the world. And for Shane, all he has known for most of his life is that his place is in a /cage/. That he is /subhuman/ and that he does not deserve to be /treated/ any differently. You cannot know what that feels like. You have the privilege to walk amongst humans and seem as one of them, you can go to a cafe and no one looks at you differently. Not all of us are so lucky. We must work twice as hard to get half as far, and being expected to simply overcome, especially when so young and with so little /reason/ to overcome, it is an unfair expectation. He is not a little soldier who can be drilled into obedience. He must be handled with a gentle hand. He needs to understand that people /support/ him, that he is able to reach out and not immediately get his hand cut off for the effort. If your own situation precludes you from being able to give him that gentle hand, I strongly suggest that perhaps you should not be the one dealing with him. Not all personalities mesh well." Then those eyes slip to Jackson, equally unamused. "And you are too agitated, which is understandable. But here...you say that he is missing? Now nothing else matters, we can continue our personal squabbles later, ja? If you know he has left...what makes you think he has gone missing?" That calmness finally melts. What lies beneath the icy exterior is not rage, however - it is weariness. "Yes, I have heard you the first few thousand times, Jackson, no need to repeat yourself. Shane told me the same thing. Unfortunately, I am no longer a teen, so the whole 'you don't know me' shtick is frankly insulting to my intelligence." Jennifer walks off towards the bar. "Oh, and Jax-- Do read up 'double standards'. Never mind the fact that insults are never a valid form of critique - and I am willing to take the blame for stooping to that - if you justify /your/ insults that way, then I can justify /mine/ just as well. Perhaps you should come to my Ethics classes, some time. At the same time, perhaps you should remind yourself you are a teacher, and inform yourself upon what I have done for the school beyond the kids you are emotionally attached to." The coffee is dumped in the sink. She sets it aside, for now, more eager to dedicate her attention to the matter at hand. Jennifer leaves her position at the bar, slowly venturing back to her spot, keenly listening to Kurt. It seems she is more eager to listen to him; at least, she appears more attentive this time around. Now and again, she nods in apparent understanding. "Yes, Kurt, I agree. As you may have noticed, not once throughout this conversation have I tried to justify myself. However, a certain level of firmness will have to be exhibited, especially with the more troublesome students. Otherwise, we might as well eliminate the idea of detention. I understand if one teacher might desire a softer approach than another, but my methods are my own." She looks to Jackson sternly then. "Which, I assure you, Kurt, are not defined by my conversation with Shane." Kurt is eyed again. "Neither did I state the intent to advise or school Shane. I was hoping you would have listened when I said I want to ask you two to keep a closer eye on Shane so that he may avoid encounters with me-- But it seems both of your memories are more finely tuned to remember that Friday." "Kurt. These are not personal squabbles. This is a pedagogical quandary. These are not /just/ kids. These are kids that can set things on fire, explode, freeze, teleport others away a hundred miles. Danger is ever present. Unfortunately, however, you are correct that them missing is /currently/ of greater concern." Jackson's gaze drops to his coffee cup, and the breaths he draws in are slow and steady. His fingers are tightening on the cup again. He takes a slow long sip. "I'm -- yeah," he answers Kurt eventually, ignoring Jennifer altogether. "Kind of too agitated. I -- he disappeared Sunday. Afternoon. Evening. I ain't sure. And I know he and Bastian have had a kind of rocky time here lately," not so much referring to Jennifer as their frequent absences over the past month and change, between an unstable custody situation with foster care and a large helping of Teen Angst running off to live in the ocean for weeks, "but I don't think he run off this time. He was actually real calm when he was talking to me 'bout school problems, and he promised he had no mind to just disappear without telling nobody. And he's got a /lot/ of issues, but, the years I known him he ain't never /lied/ to me. I don't think he'd say that if he was planning on taking off." He swallows, and his voice here is a little shaky where before during the exchange with Jennifer it had been calm. "Shelby and another friend of theirs were over. The twins said they were going to pick up coffee, and they didn't ever come back. With Peter missing /too/ -- and I spend a fair amount of time with folks out on the streets, there's been rumours of mutants disappearing. It's -- I'm -- worried." Thaaaat might be an understatement. "Professor Summers and Logan know. They're lookin', I think. But. I -- am worried 'bout the kids still here too. Some of them might be in danger just walking out the door." "Jennifer, I /have/ listened. But you cannot simply be the...the immovable rock against which all student life crashes against and either parts for or is rebuffed by. Your methods must be organic, to evolve with each individual, this is the very basic core of teaching. You must also have responsibility for this, you cannot simply load it all on Shane, if you think it is best you two avoid confrontation--which I agree--it is not simply a matter of Jackson and I 'steering' him clear of you as if you are some mindless mechanical thing which cannot make decisions for itself. You must also make the effort. This is NOT some 'pedagogical quandary'," The German handles the words admirably well, considering it isn't clear that Kurt even knows what they mean, "This is about CHILDREN's LIVES. They are capable of greatness on a scale most people cannot even conceive? Even more reason to teach them /as human beings/, so that they do not grow up bitter and without reason to /help others/ with the gifts that God has given them. They are not a social experiment!" Kurt cuts himself off abruptly when he realizes his own voice's volume is raising, and buries his face in his coffee mug sullenly. Easier to listen to Jackson this way. His head bows, a little, largely in thought. "And now it is Tuesday. Ja, I agree, he has been showing up regularly to train fencing, he seems to enjoy the exercise. Peter is missing also? Then that is a pattern and not a coincidence. We must find them." Kurt's face turns up, and he looks between the others in the room with him. "Perhaps security should be heightened, but that is not me purview, really. The only way to truly make them all safe is to stop whatever is causing the disappearances." "Ah, the silent treatment. How awfully mature." Much like Jackson, Jennifer is keeping most of her emotions beneath the surface. The area in which she may or may not differ from Jax, however, is that her veil is thin, and the cracks are beginning to show. Which is why attention is quickly diverted to missing students, moving on from the earlier issue entirely. "It is not unreasonable to assume a correlation between all missing individuals. I can confirm Peter Parker is not with the FBI, despite his prominent Spider-Dude antics that have branded him as a terrorist. Nor is he kept under the table by /the/ research lab. It is very likely that this recent wave of disappearances is what affected our students. I will have more information as time progresses." This all comes across a bit more angrily as it should, given how her attitude is a train even she is incapable of stopping. Still, she controls herself. "Jennifer, I don't think keeping on insulting each other is real /productive/ right now." The light in the room trembles again. "There's a lot of good to you but you don't --" Jackson bites back the rest of his sentence, his next slow breath through his teeth. His own coffee has, oddly, not gone cool, still /steaming/ in his hands. The heat that radiates off him is stronger. "Don't think this is the time for that conversation." He takes a long drink of his coffee. "I've been reaching out to folks I know in the community. Peter might be easier to track /down/, Spider-Dude gets around and the internet loves to talk about where he been seen last. There was a couple reports'a fires this weekend -- ain't sure at all which are /true/ but I got a friend investigating." He frowns slightly, adding with a touch of bemusement to Jennifer, "-- a PI I think /you/ put on the case." This time he drains his entire coffee cup, grimacing into it once it is empty. "But past that I -- I don't -- don't even know where to start," he admits, in a smaller voice. The elf waves both hands frustratedly through the air as if to banish the sniping back and forth--fortunately he's drunk enough of his coffee that this doesn't result in it splashing everywhere. Equally as theatric in his gestures, he picks up some invisible object out of the center of the air and mimes setting it aside, flicking the 'thing' far away with his tail. His fur is still bristly in many places but the expression on Kurt's face is, at least, has calmed down. "It is a pity Cerebro is out of order." He mutters to himself quietly, before giving his head a vague shake. "I imagine someone could talk Logan into playing bloodhound, he has never been one to let children remain in danger when he can help it. I am afraid my only other idea that banks on my own talents is to act as bait...which could be as disasterous as it would be helpful, even if I managed to have a tracker on me." Knuckles crack as her hands roll their digits at her sides. There is a bit of a tremor occasionally whenever she clenches them. Her lips roll and smack before she exhales freely, eyeing Kurt's frustration and actually accepting it. "James Morgan", she grits her teeth. "A common acquaintance, then." A little bit of a pause later, she adds, "Feel free to question my pedagogical approach once more, but I'd like to forward the suggestion that it's our ethical obligation to treat all students equally." "Logan is useful, but... /inefficient/. As you may know, a particularly prodigious student - Kisha - has sent out an e-mail to faculty members, informing us that Peter's equipment - his so-called webshooters - has tracking chips embedded in them. They are short-range, but it's a lead worth investigating. If the twins are indeed sharing the same fate as Peter, then we can all find them in one go." Jackson's eye widens at Kurt's words. He stands, staring for a moment at the fuzzy blue teacher. "-- Bait, I don't think. Mmm -- Maybe Logan --" His fingers drum against the side of his cup. Abruptly he moves, heading to the sink to wash it out. "If we can find the webshooters," he agrees, "It could at least be a place to start trackin' /from/. Cuz right now we pretty much got nothin'. That," his smile is a liiittle wry, "was a pretty good move on Kisha's part. Peter's got a knack for finding trouble." "The safety, the very lives perhaps, of the students are at risk, in which case I cannot see why we can't /both/ track the webshooters /and/ employ Logan's inefficient but useful nose." Kurt notes, finally putting his coffee mug aside by means of transferring it to his tail and setting it down on the ground that way. Jackson's scandalized expression is met with a shrug. "If it is our only option, it is our only option. I know a thing or two about performing and I am not precisely helpless, but if we are being very honest, I would rather be a help in finding the children, not a liability." "I-- I agree with Jackson." The words roll off her tongue with so much reluctance, they might as well be words of blasphemy spoken by a God-fearing woman. "Lives may be at stake, but it does not call for risking more of them. Regeneration of your body tissue should not provoke recklessness. I can pummel through any building--" In fact, the way she says it, sort of suggests she really wants to. "But it's a wrong course of action." "I am not aware of how Kisha plans to track the equipment, but if multiple search parties are possible, we assign each other districts and ride through them, hoping to detect the chip. Are we-- Are we in agreement?" Calming down is not easily accomplished by Jennifer. Her veil is coming apart at the seams, but she holds onto her composure. Jackson finishes washing his cup, drying it and returning it to its place. If he's coming apart at the seams it doesn't /exactly/ show but, well: illusionist. His expression at the moment is changing exactly as much as he wants it to be seen changing. (Please ignore the repeated flutter of lights around them.) Right now, what he wants to be seen means pensive-calm, a quick bob of head in agreement. "Yeah. Yes. That sounds like a --" There's a hesitation in his words, and they continue a little wryly: "Think Jennifer's plan sounds like a wise one. I'll talk to Kisha? See what's needed from her to track them?" Kurt is quiet for a few long moments before he nods, his head bobbing up and down briefly. "Ja." He says, his mouth trying to bolster back up into its usual smile. "Of course, if it turns out the services of a particular fuzzy blue elf are needed, I will be the first one called, I hope." "Then it is settled. Jackson speaks to Kisha. We communicate via e-mails or our phones." Jennifer pauses as she regards Kurt. One could assume her glare is spiteful, but in truth it is unintentional. "You will likely be needed. Once Jackson settles how Kisha tracks the webshooters-- We will contact each other. That-- That is all." Without so much as another word, Jennifer storms out of the room, digging into her pocket. Drawing a phone, she scrambles to quick-dial someone. The door is angrily opened as she holds up the phone; the door is all forgotten as she walks down the hallway, her rushed words echoing and fading: "Hey-- Yeah, can you stand in for me? I'll be in class halfway." "Be in touch," Jackson agrees, quiet. He stays quiet for a while, and then /slumps/ once the door has closed behind Jennifer storming off, his palms bracing against the edge of the sink and a notable tremble in his shoulders. For a moment around him there is a flare of light, brilliant-bright and fiercely hot, but it vanishes a heartbeat later. His single eye closes. "Sorry," he says to Kurt, his thick Southern drawl -- thicker. Heavier. The worry in his tone is palpable. "S'all kinda a mess, ain't it?" "It could have gone better." Kurt concedes after a moment, and he blinks once, turning his lamplight gaze on Jackson. "Mein Freund, you have nothing to apologize to me for. We are all very emotionally involved. Even Jennifer, I think; she tries to keep herself at a professional distance but I believe she cares deeply for the students, even Shane. For you and I, even, this is very personal. They are your sons. And me...well." The elf's tail flicks back and forth in renewed agitation, his voice growing dark. "Suffice to say I know very directly what it is like to be put in a cage and thought a beast, and I do not find the memories any more comforting than I imagine the boys do. But we will find them, ja? You must not lose hope. And when we do, well...I will do all I can to talk them into staying. You and I both know things can be better here." "They're my sons," Jackson agrees, to the first half of this. His eye opens again, and for a long moment he just stares down at his hands, fingers pressed hard against the sink counter. But then he straightens, slipping around the counter. He looks at Kurt a long while, nodding. "Might be why Shane actually gets on with you. Think it's hard for him to -- most people don't understand. What that's like. Kinda a harsh reason to relate but --" His hand lifts, palm pressing for a moment to his eye, and then he watches Kurt's flicking tail for a moment. "Hope's one thing I ain't never been short of," he says, a little lighter. "Thanks, Kurt. Things'll be better here. We just -- gotta /make/ 'em so." Kurt smiles as he watches Jackson pull himself back together and under control, fangs showing. "They do say that the Lord works in mysterious ways. Perhaps I endured what I did only so I could help Shane and Sebastian recover from it as well. It is impossible to say." The elf's grin broadens, and he nods a firm agreement. "Yes! Just so. We will make it better. Shane...I think he is a good kid, it is just hard for him because he has been so abused. But this, this is me preaching to the choir." "They do say that. If He's got a plan for all this --" Jackson quirks a crooked smile, his fingers running through his bright multicoloured hair. "Well. Might be one day we'll find it. I think they're mostly all good kids. The world's just -- just been /real/ tough on 'em. But sometimes --" His fingers flick towards Kurt in indication. "Sometimes you take tough and it just makes you that much tough/er/. Might take some guidance gettin' there, though." Exhaling heavily, he heads over to scoop his bag up from beside the couch. "Speakin' of guidance, I should prooobably get to /my/ class 'fore the kids burn down the art room. Remind me to bake you cookies when this is all through. I think /everyone/ could use a bit more sweet 'round here." "Just so." Kurt says again, inclining his head. "Ja, it is sooner rather than later that I ought to be trying to impress the concept of nouns with a gender identity upon impressionable young minds." He extricates himself from the couch's back with the same effortless grace he always moves with, snatching up his dirty mug with his tail once more. Jackson's mention of cookies startles a laugh out of the elf. "I would not turn them down, mein Freund. I am most fond of cherry anything, if that is helpful. Have a good day, Jackson." Jackson's smile this time comes easier, brighter. "Cherry. I'll keep that in mind." He lifts his hand as if to tip a hat to Kurt, though he isn't wearing one -- though one /appears/ on his head a moment later, a gold-trimmed black tricorn that he lifts to the other teacher. "You too, Kurt." And then class is calling.