Logs:Normalcy

Normalcy
Dramatis Personae Kitty, Lucien, Matt, Steve
In Absentia	2020-08-11 "We get some perks though - free coffee, cool telescopes if you're into that."
Location <NYC> Washington Square Park - Greenwich Village
Behind a majestic white marble arch, a smaller cousin of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, this beautiful green space is a popular destination for the young, the hip, and the artistic. A huge circular wading fountain is the centerpiece, ringed by benches, playgrounds, dog runs, gaming tables, and lush green lawns. In fair weather, the park is almost always crowded with tourists, students, chess enthusiasts, and local families come to tire out their children and dogs. Mid-evening, and the park is lively, more people drawn out-of-doors as some of the heat from the day begins to dissipate. Bustle notwithstanding, Lucien has claimed a small island of peace beneath some trees on the west side of the park, blanket spread on the ground and an assortment of hand pies in several different tupperware containers before him. He is, currently, nibbling on a pretzel-crust pastry, brie and jam mingling within it. The sleek black-and-tan mutt curled up beside him is looking very focused, eyes riveted on the food. Tracking every motion of Lucien's hand as he works his way slowly through it. Luci, for his part, is mostly paying attention to the tail end of a chess game at the nearby tables. Dressed -- for him on the casual side in a white straw skimmer hat with a gray and green hat band, a green-and-white striped seersucker button-down with sleeves rolled neatly up, gray linen slacks, and tan loafers, he has gotten comfortable tucked against the hopeful pup with his back up against a tree. He gives only a soft huff as the game concludes. "{Newcomers are often so cocky.}" There's a light amusement in his quiet French words. Steve is sitting cross-legged beside Lucien on the blanket, wearing a yellow t-shirt with a dancing T-rex above the word 'FOSSIL' spelled out of bones, comfortable and well-fitted blue jeans, and black combat boots. A great round targe with a white star at the center in a blue field ringed in red and white bands leans against the tree beside him, easily recognizable. "{Perhaps they judged him by his appearance,}" he suggests, his own French oddly accented -- a mix of Brooklyn, Provence, and Québec. He plucks up a crescent-shaped spinach pie and nibbles on one corner thoughtfully. "{I'm sure that man could defeat me handily if he lasted even this long against Matt.}" Matt being the one who has just cleaned up at that particular game of chess, despite looking just about on death's door between his emaciated frame and his extreme pallor (some of which he might owe to copious sunblock use). His chastened opponent tries to offer a handshake that he politely deflects, his smile audible on his voice even if it is hidden behind his (Montréal Canadiens!) fabric mask. Returning the pieces to their places, he meticulously disinfects his hands and bids his opponent good day before rolling his wheelchair back toward the picnic. He's wearing a royal blue t-shirt with a cartoon figure reading under an arch of books, bracketed by the words "Best Time Machine EVER!", gray cargo shorts, and black athletic sandals. He parks the chair with practiced ease and levers himself up out of it with considerably less ease. The two or three steps that it takes to carry him to the blanket seem to exhaust him, to judge by how grateful he looks sinking down to slump against the tree beside Lucien. "{Do I look too feeble even for chess?}" he asks with mild affront that is obviously affected, given the huge grin he unmasks. Kitty rubs her eyes once, then twice, then gives up, closing her laptop and notebook with resigned finality. She stands up, stretching her back after hours hunched over her work on her little blanket. She's still dressed in quarantine chic - flower print leggings and a loose t-shirt with "MIR LEBN EYBIK" emblazoned on it in firery Yiddish script. She's beginning the walk back out of the park when she spots a familiar wheelchair, then a familiar face on the ground nearby. She grins, waves, called out. "Matt!" She approaches, spots the Canadiens mask on the ground, and keeps a polite distance. She recognizes Lucien, vaguely, and Steve- "Wow, you keep cool company." Lucien quirks an eyebrow, hiding a crooked half-smile behind a loose cage of fingers. Steve is spared whatever retort he had brewing, though, as Matt makes his way back over. Luci makes no move to help Matt's ungainly transition -- only plucks up a thermos from beside himself, offering out the iced strawberry sencha once his brother is settled. "Do you really want an answer to that?" Less visible is the gentle flex of his ability, uncoiling to take the heavier edge off Matt's exhaustion, give him a small boost of energy and -- just a hint of appetite. "Artichoke?" His offer comes with a nod to the nearest tupperware. He glances up at the sound of Matt's name, a more proper smile -- small, polite -- carefully set in place. "Goodness, do you hear that?" The small flick of his hand sweeps dismissively towards Steve and his iconic shield -- clearly not a factor in this equation -- "I choose to take that to mean I am the cool brother now." Steve does look sorely tempted to help Matt from the chair to the blanket, but seeing Lucien stay put he manages, as well. "It had crossed my mind I might have half a chance beating you now. But I'm rapidly reconsidering my odds." The faintest touch of pink rises to his cheeks. "Good evening, Miss," he greets Kitty brightly. "I like to think so -- at least, these two are pretty cool in my book." His smile is less immediate than Lucien's, but comes readily enough. "I'm Steve Rogers." "Now that you put it that way..." Matt accepts the thermos and takes a long draught. His grateful sigh after might be for the tea or for the bolstering from his brother's power--or both. He does take one of the artichoke pies, though he's quickly distracted from it by the sound of his own name. "Kitty!" he pipes. "Fancy running into you here." He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. "Come now, everyone knows Gaétan is the cool brother. But, if we discount him, you definitely fit the bill. Steve Rogers-endorsed, no less!" His vivid green eyes flick over his teammate. "How are you doing? All booked up with school?" Kitty laughs, looking back and forth between the bickering men on the blanket. "One vote for Lucien as the cool brother, I think," she says. "Saw you in Lost on student rush tickets. Loved it." She glances at Steve, shoots him a bright grin. "Couldn't have guessed," she says warmly, giving Rogers a little nod. "Nice to meet you." After a moment, she sits on the ground nearby, not joining the group on the blanket. At the mention of school, she rolls her eyes. "As always. Check out these bad boys." She pulls at the bags under her eyes and laughs. "Would rather be back at Xaviers than in the NYU library every day, but here we are." Her eyes slide to the spread on the ground. "Picnic dinner date?" "There you go giving the game away," Lucien's chiding has only amusement and no heat to it at Steve's introduction, "I was ready with the epic tale of how Matthieu bested Steve Rogers and made off with his shield." His head inclines to Kitty, a warm crinkle in his eyes at the compliment. "I am glad you enjoyed it. Glad you had time to enjoy it, school seems to leave little enough space for recreation." His hand tips out in indication of the food. "Just making sure to get some calories in before we expend them all yelling at the Mets. If you're hungry we have," he is pointing out each container of small pastries in turn, "-- spinach-artichoke, brie and raspberry jam, and --" He hesitates. Glances at Kitty's shirt, an uncertain crease between his brows. "-- The last have mushrooms, onion, cheese, and bacon." "Nice to meet you, Miss...?" Steve blinks at Lucien's admonishment, then guffaws, looking just a little startled by his own amusement. "Oh no! I didn't realize. Well, one of these days you can best me and make off with my shield for real," he tells Matt. "I get tired of being Captain America all the time, anyway." Then, with a slightly more rueful chuckle, "Well, I hope we'll be doing more cheering than yelling, but their performance yesterday didn't inspire confidence." "Kitty," Matt fills in helpfully, "it's actually her name, though 'Miss Kitty' makes you sound like a toddler who's very polite to pets. And baseball teams, evidently." His smile warms further at the mention of Lost!. "Oh, it's such a delightful show, and I'm glad you got to see his Faun, in particular. I hope the end is at least on the horizon if not properly in sight--do you intend to return to Xavier's, when you get your letters? In a more paid sort of capacity, I mean." He does, finally, take a bite of the pie he's been holding in one hand. "Oh!" Her cheeks redden a bit, and she gives Matt a grateful look. "Yeah, Kitty Pryde. I, uh - I'm at NYU, but I kind of-" she glances at Matt again, "I volunteer at Xavier's, s'how I know Matt." Kitty scoots a little closer to the group, reaches for a brie-and-jam pastry. "I hope you guys open back up soon," she says to Lucien, taking a small bite. She rolls her eyes at the mention of the Mets. "Have fun, if you can," she teases, turning back to Matt. Kitty shrugs. "If the Professor will have me, maybe. Academia is looking a little-" she grimaces, "rough on the job market, at the moment. A lot of cancelled conferences this year. Makes it hard to network, and -" a sideways glance at Steve and Lucien, "it's not the most supportive environment." "We will either find some fun or make it. We have whiskey, snacks, and a lot of practice finding joy in the midst of very long odds." Lucien polishes off the last bite of his pie. Plucks his thermos back up to wash the food down with a swallow of tea. Kitty's words earn a sympathetic wince. "It seems it may still be quite some time before we find --" His lips compress, slightly. "I do hate the word normalcy. Stability?" He does not look entirely satisfied with this word choice, either. "Regardless, I hope you find a workable path. -- That school does seem to inspire a good deal of loyalty." Steve blushes fully this time. "Miss Pryde, then -- a pleasure. I'm familiar with Matt's ah, volunteering." He hesitates, eyes skipping between Matt and Kitty with something like skepticism. "Though perhaps yours is a different kind? I'm sure there's plenty needs doing up there." He frowns. "I hadn't considered the wider impacts on academics, beyond the school closures and distance learning and such. Though I know it's been strange times to be in higher education, regardless. Strange times just...in general." Matt blinks at Steve, his smile coming slow and crooked. "We're on the same team," he assures him. "Don't underestimate her for being lovely and brilliant and tiny, any more than you'd underestimate me for loitering on Death's doorstep." He nods at Kitty's explanation. "Mmm. Unfortunate but unsurprising. Some might question your faculties for wanting to wanting to return to your alma mater, but Xavier would be lucky to get you back. It is true, though..." His free hand turns up to indicate agreement with his brother's assessment. "...that he retains a lot of alumni, for better or for worse. I hope you'll have options, when the time comes." Her eyes narrow a bit as Steve talks around the obvious, but relaxes when Matt clarifies. "I'll give you tiny, but certainly not brilliant - would have figured out what's going wrong with my equations now if I was." She's smiling, joking a bit at her own expense. She finishes the pastry, talking through a full mouth that she covers with her other hand. "It's been a little weird for graduate students - a lot of our funding they can't pause, so even though schools are closed we're still there, doing experiments and stuff." She swallows, reaching for a spinach-artichoke one. "Thanks for sharing these, man," she says to Lucien, phasing the pie through the side of the tupperware. Her eyes widen as she realizes what she just did in public, gives the others a sheepish grin. "Sorry, it's just easier." Her expression is mostly neutral as they talk about paths and XS. "I think it really depends just how... you know, things are, when I graduate. I hope there are more choices where I don't have to hide any part of me, but if not -" She shrugs. "I'm a Xavierite. I like knowing I can go home again." "I have no idea how to cook for anything smaller than a horde of ravening teenagers." Lucien's hand drops to rest on Flèche's head, scratching behind her ears now that his pastry is gone and the pup has given up hope. "How much longer until you are done? And what field are you trying to network within?" If he is at all phased by Kitty's brief demonstration, it does not show -- outwardly, at least, though Matt alone can feel the quick and careful mental tightening that happens within him. A very small twitch of smile pulls at his lips. "Oh, goodness. If people find out Steve has been fraternizing with mutants, gods only know what kind of outcry there might be." Steve has enough self awareness to look sheepish at Matt's casual correction. "I'm terribly sorry. No excuse for assuming." He reaches for a mushroom and onion pie but stops short when Kitty just reaches through the container, pale blue eyes going wide-wide. Lucien's comment seems to un-freeze him, at least. "For what it was worth, Ryan and I never let anyone forget it." He looks wistful for a moment -- almost plaintive. Clears his throat. Actually picks up the pie he was reaching for. "I'm kind of like a horde of ravening teenagers, all by myself." Matt shifts where he sits, leaning more heavily against the tree and scrunching the fingers of his free hand into Flèche's scruff. But his smile remains undimmed. "That ship has definitely sailed," he adds, rather seriously. Then, to Steve with an apologetic wince, "Too soon?" He shakes his head. "But I'm happy you get to have some friendships with freaks that are beneath the notice or concern of the media, and don't envy you the ones under constant scrutiny." To Kitty, he nods. "It's good to know that, to be sure. But remember the Professor and the senior staff members can be resources to you whether you go back for good or not. Xavier is a master of nepotism." Kitty swallows the bite in her mouth, brushing some crumbs off her lips. "I'm in astrophysics, which seems like it would be more space stuff than math stuff, but it's mostly math. I've got..." she looks up to the sky, counting backwards in her head, "like three more years? Maybe four." She seems a little concerned by the prospect of the later. To Matt: "Do you think Xavier knows anyone at NASA?" Steve's look triggers another look, but Lucien's comment makes her laugh. "Sorry, I don't mean to be insensitive," she says to Steve, "but I was - I was in the audience that day. It was very," she pauses, rolls a couple of possibilities around her mouth. "Cathartic. To witness. For mutant reasons and also for gay reasons." She smiles softly, pulling her bag into view- among the pins there is a bi flag button. Lucien's eyes widen; he stifles a laugh behind a loosely-curled fist as he looks to Steve. "That was quite a show you put on, non? A true inspiration to every bisexual who has dreamed about punching a bigot right in the face. -- Which is most, I have to imagine. -- I was not lucky enough to witness that in person, myself, but I have watched the replay more times than I ought admit." "Three years!" Steve repeats, eyes wide again. "And I thought art school was a lot." His head shakes, quick, at Matt's quick, leveling him a flat look that quickly dissolves into a smile. "Oh! It was my pleasure, really. I'm glad my impulsiveness spoke to fellow queers -- and didn't even give my publicist a heart attack!" He chuckles, self-conscious, "I would do it all again, if given the opportunity." Matt strokes his chin with the backs of his knuckles. "Mmm, I don't know, but there's no harm in asking. Kyinha could probably introduce you to a few people. Make Xavier's work for you a bit, no?" He picks up the thermos and takes a sip. "Are you kidding? You were doing Luci's job for him." "PhDs are intense, man. We get some perks though - free coffee, cool telescopes if you're into that." She hesitates, then shoots her shot - "If you ever want a tour of the labs at NYU, my email is somewhere on the website, and I love to procrastinate." At Matt's suggestion, her eyes widen. "Should have thought of that before. Thanks, man." Kitty is clearly becoming more comfortable, stretching her legs out a bit. "I know some people who put that punch to music, like the Gamecube loading screen and stuff. It's been great for a whole generation of us." "Not sure I'd know what to do with a telescope, but free coffee sounds great." Steve nods. "I'm afraid I won't be able to introduce you to anyone in your field, but I can probably get you cool points with your schoolmates." His eyes twinkle with mirth here. "I don't know what Gamecube is, but I have seen modified many videos of it. All the better if one of my prouder moments ended up making Luci's job easier." "Ah, I have been remiss in my duties as a Millennial friend," Matt admits solemnly. "The next time you have a viral bigot punch, I'll make sure you see all the best remixes. No leaving that to chance." He slides down until he's half propped up on the dog. To Kitty he says, "I'm glad to help. You know we live just around the corner, right? And I'm home most days until fall term. If you're every looking to take a leisurely lunch, you have my number."