ArchivedLogs:DANGER DANGER

DANGER DANGER
Dramatis Personae Shane, Kurt Wagner 1.0, Sebastian, Peter, Kai
In Absentia	2013-05-28 During Treehouse of Terror.
Location <XS> Rec Room - FL2
School this may be, but life for Xavier's students certainly isn't all studying. Outside classes, this is a popular spot to find students in their downtime. An enormous tribute to slacking off, this room is a wealth of fun and relaxation. Comfortable armchairs, couches, and beanbags offer plentiful seating scattered throughout the room, and the cushioned windowseats by the high windows offer a cozy nook to curl up and look out on the grounds. The room is often filled with the noises of gaming -- whether it comes from the big-screen television (tall racks of DVDs beside it, if nothing can be found on the multitude of cable channels), tricked out with consoles from retro to the latest releases, or the less electronic clatter and thump of the pool table, air hockey, or foosball. For those a little more subdued in their gaming, the cabinets hold stacks and stacks of board and card games, ranging as classic as chess and go to as esoteric as Dixit, Catan, and Gloom. Peter's in the rec room again -- unknowingly about one minute away from EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN. Playing /video-games/ again. Probably with a Shane and a Sebastian and maybe a Kai! Peter's in his preferred video game playing position -- UPSIDE DOWN, his head shoved down on the couch, his legs dangling over the back-end of it -- toes exposed, black and wiggling in the air as he cradles the remote controller to his stomach. The game of choice today is, again, MARIO CART. Peter seems to have an obsession with it. He always picks Dry Bones, and he always goes with this terrible little motorcycle that looks like some sort of bullet. Right now, he's trying to beat the record for some sort of ICE STAGE that involves lots of penguins who just are COMPLETE FUCKING ASSHOLES. Vroom, vroom. As Peter plays, his tongue sticks out of his mouth, eyes narrowed -- his entire body swaying from left to right during the tighter turns. Shane is so very definitely not playing video games. Probably not playing them in the /best/ of circumstances. But his twin and his $it'scomplicated are here playing them and SO. He has deigned to at least be in the /vicinity/ of video games. He's on the couch /sideways/, his head tucked in against the small of Peter's back, legs dangling over a couch arm, watching the screen with a kind of puzzled expression. His head shifts with the swaying of Peter's form. Bastian is seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, back rested against its base. He is just as set on this VROOMING thing as Peter is, only minus the tongue. But occasionally his gills flutter when particularly tight turns make him forget to /breathe/. "Bastian, killing yourself isn't going to help," Shane volunteers. "He'll still beat you. Actually probably beat you harder if you're dead." "He is /not/ going to -- nrrf." Bastian cannot speak too busy CONCENTRATING. Penguindodging. Skidding around on ice. Whoosh. He's still dressed in pleated skirt-purpletank-fishnetsleeves though the pleats have kind of smoothed themselves out a bit with the skirt spread on the ground around him. Shane is as per usual going with dapper. Vest, slacks, bow tie, dress shirt. Though he's removed his newsboy cap and rested it on Peter's back. It sways, too, with Peter's shifting. "Totally gonna," he says, watching the game. Video games were one of those things that Kurt was very much deprived of in his childhood. As a consequence, he hasn't had much chance to understand the appeal of them, or the use of a TV for anything other than watching amazing films on. Today the elf is dressed a bit more flamboyantly than usual, although for this school that isn't saying much--he's found some kind of high-waisted pants he's holding up over his shoulders with suspenders, jet black but for the elaborate red brocade stripe that runs down each leg. These are worn over a blousey white shirt with an incredible excess of fabric at the cuffs, and over THAT--this is one incredible frock coat, short in front, long in back with a split down the tails for /Kurt's/ tail, in black with gold and red brocade and big, big brass buttons. As ridiculous as he might or might not look, Kurt doesn't seem to care, because his face is cast in an expression of almost rapture as he comes into the room, holding some kind of box a few feet in dimensions. It seems to have a lot of little pipes sticking up out of it. Kai seems in a good mood today, hopping down the hall from the boys' dorm and into the rec room. He's dressed in knee-length cargo shorts and a green t-shirt, his feet bare, slapping on the floor as he enters behind Kurt. Spotting Peter's feet dangling over the back of the couch, he zips around the teacher with the distracted disregard of youth, and Kai hops in /that/ direction. But, the sight of Shane's legs sticking out of the side are enough to slow him, and he approaches with a more careful step, eventually lighting to hover on the perimeter politely. Or uncertainly. It's hard to tell. "If it helps," Peter -- who is clad in a gentle blue collared shirt, gray dress-slacks, and black-and-gray clip-on tie (the tie currently dangling down atop of his chin, /probably/ exposing the metal clip that secures it) -- "I could play using my toes," TWIST, vroom vroom, Peter's body shifts to the left, maybe /squishing/ Shane's head just a little as he skids past a WHOA GIANT penguin, right into the mouth of an ice-cave. Despite his intense focus, Peter seems to have no problem paying attention to everything else going on. Because, PeterBrain is /ridiculously/ good at multitasking. This is /maybe/ how Peter seems to notice Kai with just a brief flicker of his eyes. "Hey, Kai," Peter announces, navigating the interior of the ice-cavern. It is a /careful/ greeting, because -- well, twins. But Peter just waits to see how they respond. Also, emergency LOCKDOWN coming in T-Minus 15, 14, 13... "You should, look, you had your whole fucking life to get used to this shit Bastian's only had --" Shane starts, but Bastian (zooming close on Peter's tail) answers with uncharacteristic sharpness (that is: any sharpness at all. It's really not very sharp): "He doesn't need to play with a /handicap/ I /got/ this." Except he doesn't, because in the next moment there is a Kai hopping towards the room and even before he's entered both boys are turning their heads sharply. Bastian doesn't crash, exactly, but his sudden swerveskid to /avoid/ crashing puts him two places behind where he'd been. His teeth clench as he focuses kind of /determinedly/ back on the game. "You look kind of swashbuckly, Professor," he says to Kurt. "What's in your hand?" Shane doesn't say anything. His gills flare, and he picks his hat back up from Peter's back, setting it neatly back atop his head. He rolls over, presses a kiss to the back of Peter's head, and then stands. "He's always fucking swashbuckly," is his answer, kind of amused for all he is shoving hands into pockets and stepping wiiide aroung the far side of the couch from Kai to head quickly for the door. Or that was his intention, anyway. It is curtailed by the sudden blare of alarms, the sudden shuttering of all the windows. This time, Sebastian /does/ crash; mostly because he's /dropped/ his controller to clap his hands over extremely sensitive ears with a clench of teeth. No noise, though; his gills are just flaring, quick and rapid. Nearer the door, Shane is doing much the same; eyes wide, hands claped to his ears, posture doubled over. What he is /mouthing/ is most likely profanity judging by his expression, but his gills are fluttering, too, and without actually pushing /air/ through his lungs his words are making nothing by way of actual sounds. It probably translates to: WTF? "Oh, this is not swashbuckly, this is circusy. I was never the ringmaster but even a grown-up boy can dream, nicht wahr?" Kurt says without looking up, trotting immediately to the nearest clear table. His tail is lifted enough as it follows him that it makes a graceful upwards curve in the air, spade about the level of Kurt's mid-back, which is an indication of some almost astronomical amount of good humor in the elf. His trot happens raptor-style rather than on the flats of his feet and definitely has a bounce to it. The second Kurt has the box settled down, he pulls something out of it--it turns out to be a slightly smaller 'box', made of wood and elaborately painted with gold filligree, much like his jacket. It has organ pipes sticking up out of its top, and a crank on one side. "It is a barrel organ!" He says, his voice bright with the sound of delight and completely oblivious to anything Going Wrong between the boys in the room. "What is ... what do you people call it here...a hurdy-gurdy! You know the thing, it makes music." Of course, a second later he is bracing himself suddenly against the table as the room puts itself on lockdown, all good humor vanished. "All right, everyone stay calm, gather up here, no one is hurt?" He, unlike Shane, is definitely making noise with his lungs, his voice raised to be heard over the klaxons. First order of business is to ascertain the kids are all right, the second...determine what is going on. Kai brightens a bit when Peter notices him, but his expression quickly dims at the reception of the twins. "Hello, Peter," he says in a low, hesitant voice, watching Shane carefully as he stands up and moves away. Before he can offer anything else, there are alarms, and Kai's frame goes immediately rigid, hands clenching into fists as every muscle locks into place. His eyes widen almost to impossible levels, and there's a wild flickering at the edges of his irises. If there's anyone else in the room, the new Kai-statue is not heeding them at the moment. Peter tenses a little when he feels Shane moving -- but relaxes again when Shane presses a kiss to the back of his head, his lead never suffering for a moment. But when the sirens kick in -- oh, goodness, /that/ distracts Peter. It's maybe funny but, for one reason or another, Peter's /somehow/ got enough wherewithall to PAUSE the game before dropping the controller. Not that this is going to make any difference. At once, both his hands have clapped on top of his head and he's /rolling/ down off the couch, landing in a crouch, grimacing painfully. "WHATTHEHECK," he shouts over the shrieking alarms, "ISTHIS?!" A fervent glance to Kurt as he talks over the alarm. "TURNITOFFDUDETURNITOFFHOLY/CRAP/." The twins do not do very much by way of gathering. Sebastian stays right by the couch, tucking his head between his knees, teeth clenched hard. Shane stays rooted near the door, similarly covering his ears -- his eyes, though, are /locked/ on the shuttering windows. Kind of verywide. Eventually finally his gills close, and he draws in a ragged gasp of breath. "{Weshouldgo,}" he calls over the clanging alarm, in /terse/ Vietnamese. Not that Bastian listens. Because head. Tucked between knees. Hands still over ears. It takes a while before he lifts his head to stare at Kurt. "What's -- why?" is what he manages at first, then swallows. "S'loud. Why." "I want you all to stay here." Kurt says, his voice very serious as he shouts over the alarms. He seems calm--until someone looks at that tail of his, all of its short dense fur standing on end, lashing in a low wide arc. "I will be right back. I am going to go figure out what is going on, what has triggered the defense systems. Do not try to leave this room. I will be /right back/. I promise, my hand to God, I will not leave you here if we must leave." Nightcrawler /never/ swears to God, unless he /means/ it. And then he's gone, vanishing in a rumble of port-thunder that's swallowed by the sound of the alarms. X-Men Mode: Activated. Kai...does not move. He seems to be locked in place, still, his eyes unfocused. Then, like a string giving way, the tension leaves his body, and he sinks to the floor, scurrying to pull himself tight to the couch and CLING to it. LIke a big, overstuffed anchor. Or shield. He watches the others (that he can see) with wide eyes, nodding mutely at Kurt's instruction. He's not going anywhere. Peter continues clutching at his ears for a few seconds, teeth grit, just -- /pacing/. After a few moments, he slowly lowers his hands, discovering that -- really, it's not /helping/. "AGH. Can't someone just -- TURN THAT THING OFF?!" he hollers, a moment after Kurt BAMFs out in a swell of black smoke. Peter glances between the twins, a moment, then to Kai, and then -- to the windows. With their descending shutters. Eyes briefly widening. "Wh--holyCRAP dude what the--!" The fact that Peter's danger-sense is not tingling does not seem to prevent him from, at least briefly, /freaking/ the fuck out. He jumps up on the ceiling -- SMACK -- and clenches up, peering at the exits. "Mngh," is Sebastian's answer to Kurt, and he drops his chin to rest on his knees, hands still clamped over his ears. Bastian's shoulders are shaking, as the alarms continue, and it is this more than anything else that finally pries Shane away from the door. He crosses the room again, giving Kai as wide a berth as is possible when he is sharing couch-floor-space with Bastian, and sinking down beside his brother. He cringes as he moves his hands, away from his own ears to press them over Sebastian's hands instead. Doubleearmuffs. His teeth grit. His muscles are tense-clenched, and the expression on his face is very unmistakeably pained. "Professor Wagner's coming back soon," he tells his brother, and through clenched teeth his voice is as calm as he can keep it. Except the next is a harsher half-growl: "Fuckinghell somebody needs to turn that fucking alarm /off/ I'm going to fucking hurl." The minutes stretch. Kurt is gone maybe five of them before the alarms shut off. Shortly before this, he reappears near the table he'd left by, a few inches above the ground, the BAMF sound of outward-moving air lost in the last of the klaxons. "They should be turning of momen--" Silence. "Ah. There." Nightcrawler tugs at his frock jacket, settling it over his shirt again, looking a little less frazzled than he did when he left. "False alarm. Terribly noisy, I'm afraid, but it is what it is. The doors and windows should unlock in a few minutes." He takes a few minutes to look over the gaggle of traumatized teenagers in front of him. "...I take it no one saw fit to warn you that the school has a panic button on it." Kai doesn't seem to notice Shane's avoidance of him; he's focused his attention on Peter and the ceiling. And he sits in that position until Kurt returns, and he blinks at the teacher. His fingers are still dug into the upholstery, clinging there almost desperately. When the silence comes, it's deafening in comparison to the noise, and only then does Kai make a small keening noise as he pulls his legs up closer to his body. Like a pillbug. His face floods with color, then, and he pushes his face into his arms, muttering in Korean. "{No doctors. No medicine. Be still.}" "OhJesus," Peter says, and then -- WHUMP -- he descends, from above, atop of the couch. Landing behind Shane and Sebastian. "Ohcrap I /forgot/ you two have, like--" Peter seizes hold of a couch cushion, yanking it up and bringing it down on Shane's head. Curving it around to /sheathe/ it. "--superhearing /crap/. Get down," Peter tells Shane, trying to nudge him on top of his brother and just. SMOTHER them underneath the cushion, to try and insulate them from the sound. "Kai? Are you okay?" Peter asks. When Kurt returns, Peter looks up, blinks, and: "Ohdude, are they--" And then the alarms cut off. And Peter /groans/, before leaning back off of the cushions. "Dude. /Dude/, what the hell was--" Oh, Kai. Well, /crap/. Now Peter's hopping over the twins, toward him. "Kai? Dude, relax. It's--you're okay, the alarms are off now--JESUSCRAP what the hell," Peter adds, glancing to Kurt, "/dude/ are we -- a /false/ alarm please tell me you are joking holycrap that was nuts." Shane is grateful for the cushionsmothering, especially with his own hands occupied trying to shield Bastian for the noise. His tension doesn't ease once he's tucked beneath it, but Bastian's shaking does quiet, some. When the alarms cut off, though, both twins relax. Bastian sits up first, pushing the cushion aside. "-- No, I knew," he answers Kurt, quietly, "we'd just never --" "We're fine," Shane says, and, indeed, the twins don't really /seem/ traumatized at all, anymore. "-- it just /hurts/ like a motherfucker." His palms are still rubbing against his ears. He's slow to stand, a little unsteady on his feet, tilting his head one way and then the other. "So we're not actually getting attacked, sir?" Sebastian asks this uncertainly. He doesn't sound particularly alarmed by the idea. Just thoughtful. "Hope not, it's too fucking soon for /more/ bullshit," Shane grumbles. "Hey. Kai. Calm down. Nobody's coming. We're all good here." "Would you rather the answer were that we were under attack?" Kurt raises one eyebrow as he turns those alien eyes of his onto Peter, darker blue scooting up towards his hairline. "No, We are not being attacked. There was a new student inbound and a little bit of confusion. Dr. McCoy felt after everything recently it was more prudent to be safe rather than sorry and I cannot say as I blame him." His tail flicks back and forth, mostly near the spade. He goes through the boys in order. Peter--on the ceiling but that's not strange. Bastian and Shane, check. Kai... "...Kai? Are you all right?" Of course not, but the worry in Kurt's voice invites the young man to explain what IS wrong. Kai remains pillbugged until Peter nears him, and then he's releasing the couch to grab at the other boy. Maybe Peter's the new anchor. Kai's eyes are still wide as he looks up at the others, and confusion works its way through the fear, followed by another wash of pink through his face. "The alarms..." he offers weakly. "They reminded... Of a thing which happened when...." he breaks off, glancing guiltily at the twins, and swallows visibly when Shane offers comfort. "I am fine," he finishes weakly, although he's still CLUTCHING at Peter. And the couch. And whatever is handy. "Dude I -- I mean, /attacked/? Are we seriously--" Peter begins, but then Kai is CLINGING to him, and Peter wraps an arm around his shoulder. "S'fine," Peter tells him, squeezing him firmly. "You're at the school, now. Nobody's going to--" His eyes flick up toward Kurt, then. Back over to Sebastian, too, as he asks that question so casually. "...wait. Like, you have metal shutters on the windows, and--dude. /Dude/," Peter says, "why do you need -- /who/ would attack --" And then, the events of the previous few weeks settle over his mind, and his mouth just gets very tight and very thin. "...Oh." "S'not alright, he thought we we're back in those fucking cages," Shane grumbles. "But we're not. And nobody's coming. And we're fine." His dark eyes cut to Kai and Peter, and then lift to the windows. He rubs again at his ears. "S'all good now?" he asks Kurt. He's already sauntering his way off towards the door, hands dropping back into his pockets, kind of /exaggeratedly/ casual in his movement. "A lot of people might --" Bastian starts, but then glances between Kai and Shane. "-- but nobody is." He is stiffer to move. Slower. But he's following after his brother. "I know." Kurt says, his voice suddenly very dark, expression far away. This is a pain he understands, very personally. "The lockdown should reset very soon, then the door will be unlocked and I dare say a bit of clear sky may do everyone some good." His tail lashes again as he looks back to Peter, his emotions still a distant void not shown on his face. "You are as safe here as you will ever be. Take solace in that. But do not grow careless." This is all the teacher says, maybe less comfort than it should be, before he turns to attend to the hurdy-gurdy he left on the table. He's clearly no longer feeling quite as gay as his outfit. When Peter's arm slings across his shoulders, Kai shudders a tiny bit, and offers the older boy a small, tight expression. "It is difficult to remember that, sometimes," he says softly. "That this is a safe place. I say it often, but..." he colors, and releases Peter then, as if suddenly aware of his hands. He offers a tiny smile, and shifts away from the other boy slightly, watching the twins as they move away. There's recognition in his eyes; maybe for similar experience, maybe for something else. "It is easy to believe, but it is difficult to remember."