ArchivedLogs:Like Tears in Rain

Like Tears in Rain
Dramatis Personae Micah, Mary, Flicker
In Absentia	17 November 2014 '
Location <XS> Kitchen
The kitchen staff at Xavier's tends well to the needs of its residents. Always cognizant of its students and faculty's dietary needs alike, the menu has a wide variety of choices, and the longtime cook works wonders in the kitchen. The pantry, too, is kept well stocked for those who want to come prepare themselves their own snacks. The shelf, fridge, and freezer space is ample, though if anyone wants to keep their own food there, they'd better make sure it's labeled clearly, and even that is no guarantee it'll last. Cold, wet, rainy, grey morning. There have been a few too many of those lately. But on a Monday, most people can't just give in to that desire to stay snuggled under the covers and ignore the dreary. Already one morning routine, smallchild school drop-off, and commute into the day, Micah is taking advantage of a bit of spare time before class to snag the next best thing to warm blankets: warm beverage. The hazelnut coffee is freshly brewed and the kitchen scented accordingly as he fills his cup. There is, of course, more left over. Someone /always/ comes for the caffeine in the mornings around here. Cafffeeeeeiiiinnneee... Is that the sound of a coffee zombie? No. No. It's just the sound of a caffeine junkie walking into the kitchen in hunt of something to make her jittery. She rarely NEEDS the stuff to wake up. She just likes it. For a moment, the woman, bizarrely lacking in body language, is silent as she helps herself to a cup full of the stuff. It almost immediately is gulped down. This is followed by another cup, this one sipped in a more leisurely manner,"Excellent." Tucked under one arm is a box of donuts. These are set on the counter,"Help yourself. I suspect the children will make short work of them once discovered." Flicker certainly /seems/ like he comes pre-caffeinated this morning, far more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (... not /literally/ tailed, maybe around here that needs qualifying) than really should be allowed at this hour. His morning routine looks like it's consisted of exercise -- sweat plasters dark hair to his forehead and white undershirt to his chest, clinging against muscles and the outline of harness alike. The harness holds in place his new mechanical arm, mostly hidden today under dark X-jacket -- he's paired the jacket with quick-dry hiking pants and boots. Face flushed, breathing /just/ a touch on the quick side, he's nevertheless /brightly/ smiley as he appears in the kitchen. Literally appears, bypassing doors and just blip-blip-blipping his way in, a ghostly shimmer of motion almost too fast to track that ends with him by the fridge. "Heyyyyyy, morning." For all his bounce he's totally ignoring Warm and Caffeinated, snagging orange juice from the fridge to pour a large glass. "Those donuts free game?" Micah is only a /little/ sleepy looking at this hour, sipping carefully at his hot coffee. It does promise to be a long day, after all, tale told by his work clothes for /another/ job (tried and true TARDIS-blue polo and khakis) already being donned. He watches Mary gulp down the entire cup of coffee, blinking a few times during the process. "Ohgosh, if I tried that I think my esophagus would /melt/. Yours must be made of cast iron," he observes, half-teasing, half-impressed. "Oh, doughnuts. Thanks. You're right, they'll be gone sure as a horde of locusts descended once there's kids." Not that he isn't helping himself to a cinnamon-coated one, perfect for dunking into his coffee so the flavours can mingle. "Mornin', Smiley." Again, not that Micah isn't offering Flicker a warm smile in return. "Think they are if you move quick enough. Not that /that's/ usually a concern for you." The woman shrugs helplessly,"My abilities also provide a slight 'tuneup'. Everything is a little better. Not quite enough to be inhuman in any one area unless you add it all together. Only my missing eye causes me any disadvantage. Nothing supernatural about it. After all. I still have a caffeine addiction." The woman helps herself to a glazed donut, nodding simply to Flicker,"I do not believe we have met. Dr. Mary Carruthers. A pleasure." She actually stretches her back a little, then mentions to Micah,"I'm supplementing a phys-ed class today, but it feels likely to be a slow day otherwise. How are the husband and kids?" "All together we're like one whole person." Flicker is still holding his glass of orange juice as he teleports over to the donut box, managing not to spill any. He does have to set it down before he takes a donut, though, not trusting his newer hand to holding either item. He snags a glazed, too, hopping up to sit on the counter while he eats it. "When it comes to donuts I'm not dallying. I /train/ for this. -- Flicker." He sets the donut carefully down on the rim of his glass, offering his left hand out together with his hame. "Haven't met. I don't teach here. Or, uh, go here, actually." "Pshtt, disadvantage. Built-in excuse for rakish-badass fashion accessories, y'mean. You /have/ met m'husband." The last comes with a lopsided smirk paired with a bob of eyebrows over the brim of his coffee mug. "I got m'finance class, then off t'work. Use bein' out here as an excuse for making further-off deliveries after. Usually end up at the Clinic in the afternoon." Micah nods along with the question. "S'as well as could be expected after our /friend/ bein' the one got that Themis-mandate for his sentencin'. Ridiculous eugenic nonsense." More than a little frustration creeps into his tone, muscles of his jaw pulling taut. "Flicker usually just /shows up/ t'be awesome an' steal baked goods." The woman takes a sip of her coffee with an odd moue of displeasure on her face. All the more remarkable because she doesn't DO facial expressions. Which means she's likely copying someone else's. Mostly, it just looks creepy and wrong on her face,"In the Middle East, our response to such extremists was often much more direct and simple, in many cases. Then, it was easier to disappear there, as well." She noms on her donut for a while, and then shakes Flicker's hand after setting the stuff down,"A pleasure." Her face is, of course, back to its usual impassivity. "S'what I do. Middle East? What'd you do there?" Flicker shakes Mary's hand. Quick, firm, his hand rough and calloused and covered with an enormity of scars. "You want to give me a ride back, the train's -- you know. The train. Though only if you're going anywhere near Columbia. Or the 1." Picking his donut back up, he makes quick work of it. Three large bites, nom, nom, nom. His tongue swipes against his lips, hand covering his mouth for a modicum of politeness when he speaks -- "Didn't you hear? Themis? Not touching this." "If you're able t'wait 'til after class. Give y'plenty of time t'get food an' a shower an' a change of clothes. Should be able t'swing you." Micah dunks his doughnuts liberally with coffee, needing to take /planned/ bites to avoid spilling hot liquid everywhere. "Hm. So they can sit back and /sound/ good. An' if people like Dusk choose t'take that route 'stead of going t'jail for years'n'years, that's just /voluntary/, then, ain't it?" The deep wrinkling of his nose implies his opinion of it all. "If the Themis process can be developed, then I'm willing to bet someone can develop a cure as well." She finishes a donut, and then takes up her coffee cup,"Consent is a relative term. I wish I could say I always took the high road, but I've seen and done enough to know even a poor choice is better than no choice. Not necessarily good. But still better." She sighs, and then goes on,"Also, apologies, but fuck politeness. Themis is a monstrosity that's dangerously close to Nazi-era monstrosities and the fact that our government goes anywhere near it is absolutely fucking disgusting. The thought of someone possibly altering my daughter makes me feel violently ill inside." Even though her voice remains even, quiet, and unemotional, the sentiment, is not. "Pardon my language." Flicker's nose wrinkles, too, though there's a different caliber entirely to it. "Mmm. Nobody's touching your daughter. And nobody's touching Dusk. That was the /point/ of what they --" He shakes his head, gulping down his orange juice and sliding off the counter. "Don't know what you mean by /cure/, though, that implies there's something /sick/ about us. And Themis," /Flicker's/ voice, on the other hand, has sharpened out of his previous gentle warmth, "is nothing like -- I /wish/ you people would stop /comparing/ them to the frakking /Nazis/. Once you've /been/ in /actual/ torture labs, you get that right, okay? Until then stop with the hyperbole. If people /want/ the option to turn off their mutations --" His jaw clenches, and he takes a deep breath, calming again as he goes to wash his glass. "-- I'm going to go shower," he declares abruptly. "Cure, as in...y'mean cure for the Themis treatment? At least the medication part's temporary. I think y'can reverse it by stoppin' takin' it. But it's harder t'unwind brainwashin'. An' harder yet t'undo the kinda surgeries..." Micah's shoulders give an involuntary shudder despite the warm coffee in his hands. He holds his hands up. "/I/ weren't sayin' nothin' 'bout no Nazis. B'lieve me, I don't throw that out easily with the kinda stories m'family can tell you. An' I got nothin' against people who really /want/ suppression treatment gettin' it. I encouraged Matt t'help /work/ on that treatment. Very nearly /took my kid/ t'Themis for that treatment 'cause ze /wanted/ it. They just ain't proved a trustworthy organisation. An' I don't doubt for a second that they'd love t' 'treat' every mutant out there if they could." He sighs heavily, looking down into his coffee. "Not exactly a little light conversation t'start the day. Have a good one, Flicker. I'll take y'later if you're still waitin' on a ride." "Until? Oh, poop. I was having so much more fun when you were saying what's on your mind. Well, enjoy your shower." She turns to look at Micah, nodding at a 'cure' for the Themis treatment,"I like him. When he's saying what's on his mind. Certain kinds of politeness crawl over my skin like ants. I do believe I owe him an apology for needling him so, next time I see him. I am, sadly, not immune to errors in judgement or emotional responses, even if they are often unapparent." Pause. "B is delightful as well by the way, though so different from hir brother. Ze is welcome to join my wife this weekend by the way, if ze wishes. She's going into town for a makeover and some clothes shopping. Erin invited hir." "Thanks," is all Flicker says in answer to Micah's offer of ride. It's probably the last bit of conversation he hears; immediately afterwards he's vanishing from the kitchen as swiftly as he came. Shiver-pop, gone. A shower is calling. “Don't think he's ever /really/ avoidin' sayin' what he thinks, but he /is/ pretty much the definition of politeness.” Micah gnaws at another bite of coffee-soaked doughnut. “S'a sore topic for a lotta folks here. Fair number of...everyone came out of those labs. S'hard t'compare /that/ degree of torture with what's goin' on at Themis. Even though the one lead t'the other. An' Themis is still eugenic madness. At least it goes at tryin' t'eliminate mutants with the velvet glove approach? Though...the insidiousness of /that/ gives me an uncomfortableness, in itself.” Micah nods at the discussion of the twins. “They are quite dif'rent. I'm sure B'd love t'go. If ze says no, rest assured it's nothin' personal, but rather not wantin' t'deal with a day of bein' thrown out of shops an' salons. Which is what happens at most of such places. Ze didn't come up with wantin' what Themis was danglin' in a vacuum, after all.” "The company of my former employ... and my wife's current one have many useful... business interests. I doubt any of them have experience with mutants so clearly changed by their genes, but there are bound to be a few who cherish their business relationships more than they harbor fear of sharp teeth. I can probably ensure a relative lack of disappointment while ze is with Erin. Darkwood USA regularly employs mutants if they have useful abilities. Some who despise us are all too often eager to make use of our talents when there's a layer of separation between them and us. If ze chooses to make use of those contacts, ze may need to sign a confidentiality agreement witnessed by a guardian." First time she's ever named her former employer. A show of trust to Micah? She rinses out her coffee cup at any rate,"I won't bore you with the 'I've seen things' trope. Suffice to say, I DO think Themis is the greater threat. Prometheus was a... by comparison, blatant threat. It was visibly monstrous. Themis is worse, for my own money, for a very simple reason. It IS the proverbial slippery slope. The thing that will make people comfortable with effectively wiping us out. It's quiet, and polite, and leads to the same end eventually. Sorry for such harsh morning discussion. Even so, it's almost that time." “Huh. I'd run the precise nature of all that by B t'see if ze's interested, then we can talk paperwork,” Micah replies with a simple nod. He pauses to pop the last of the doughnut into his mouth. “Oh, s'a lot they're willin' t'do t'y'all for claimin' t'hate you.” For all his talk on the mutant side of things...it is still 'you' in these cases for the non-genetically-enhanced human. “Right down t'rippin' the powers out an' puttin' 'em in themselves. Was the grand scheme of Prometheus, y'know? Stealin' the fire.” He smiles faintly, apparently looking to lighten the mood. “I've seen things you people wouldn't believe… Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate.” Harsh morning discussion, meet overdose of geekery. Followed, as it is wont, by finishing off his own cup of caffeine. Mmm...soggy cinnamon doughnut crumbs in the bottom of the mug. Which he promptly washes and places in the drying rack. “It /is/ 'bout that time. I should be gettin' off t'class. Enjoy your phys. ed.” With a nod and small wave, he heads back out the door. In a much /walkier/ fashion than Flicker.