Logs:Not A Cult

Not A Cult
Dramatis Personae Gaétan, Harm, Nanami
In Absentia	2020-08-29 "I think someone else is going to have to make the first move." (Part of Final Boss: Xavier TP.)
Location <NYC> Tick-Tock - Greenwich Village
The quiet sound of soft music and softly running water greets the entrants to this tea house, playing from speakers hidden and trickling waterfalls cascading down the rocky fountains by the entryway. The ambiance here is subdued, a quiet escape from the bustle and noise of the city, focused on only one thing: tea. Tea of very good quality. They serve it in over eighty varieties, black and white, green and oolong, rooibos and herbals and mate, flavored and straight up. The seating here comes on cushions or kneeling chairs around low tables, the decorations in earth tones, and the knowledgeable wait staff is always helpful with a recommendation or a snack suggestion to pair with your drink. Behind the long counter along one side is an entire wall of bins of loose-leaf teas, available for purchase by weight. The intermittent storms have finally droped New York, if only briefly, out of its sweltering sauna state; it's practically balmy outside -- though a little too grey, a little too humid, a little too much gathering-front air pressure to make it feel like truly welcoming weather. Nevertheless Gaétan has taken up a seat by a window, the better to look out the window at the gloomy city and passersby strolling the sidewalk one story below. He's dressed in jeans, a tee with a flock of blackbirds silhouetted on the front, sitting cross-legged on a cushion at a low table. A pot of tea sits in front of him, his small cup just filled, a lightly floral Tieguanyin that he sips at slowly. Intermittently checks his phone while he waits. Harm is looking very much like a tourist, glancing often at the map screen on their phone and squinting in vain for street numbers on the tightly packed storefronts. They're wearing a loose green 3/4-sleeve tunic with intricate purple embroidery at the cuffs, brown wrap pants, and black sandals with rainbow straps, a satchel made from bicycle inner tubes hanging from one shoulder. They almost overshoot the teahouse, but then step inside, looking relieved as they put their phone away, quietly informing the host they are joining someone before going to Gaétan's table. "Hi," comes out low, almost a whisper as they sink down to settle on an empty cushion. "This place is so fancy!" Nanami trails along behind Harm, dressed in pink and black pleated skirt, a tight midriff-baring black tank that has more extraneous straps and buckles than it probably needs (the amount it needs for structural integrity being exactly zero), a gauzy pink shrug over top. Her eyes are still scanning the surrounding environs even as they arrive at Gaétan's table. She only turns her attention to him at a beat of delay, giving an approving nod and settling down to a careful kneel, smoothing her skirt underneath her. "Nice choice." Gaétan looks up with a quick smile. Quick nod. There's plenty of room on the table; his shuffling of items is likely unnecessary, drawing his tea a little closer, shifting a menu closer to the girls. "S'convenient," he explains with a small shrug, "close to home. Sorry to drag you all away from your --" He pauses, his brief smile a little lopsided. "-- you sure it's not a cult?" Harm looks over the menu. "I don't know good tea at all, my grandparents always drink the same cheap oolong and other than that I only drink boba and sweet matcha. Can you recommend anything?" They put the menu down, looking to Gaétan. "Anyway, it's not a cult." There's a touch of laughter in their voice. "It's like this swanky corporate retreat. They let us do whatever basically, until it's safe to go back to school. If it's ever safe to go back to school." "They'll also make you whatever clothes you want," Nanami supplies lightly. "If it was a cult, I'd probably still join. Excellent cult benefits." She looks at the menu only cursorily before setting it back down. "What makes something a cult, anyway?" "A fashion cult." The lift of Gaétan's brows is impressed. "Yeah, okay, I'd join. Already joined Xavier's so I got no stones to throw there anyway. Why is the school not safe? -- The Jin Xuan here is great. A lot of their teas are great but that one's tops." He scrunches his brows at Nanami's question. "Mmmn. Dunno really. I think it's like having any religion or philosophy, except when Christians don't like you." Harm leans forward, lowering their voice conspiratorially. "Professor Xavier has been erasing kids' memories! The people running the center, they went to Xavier's too and the same thing happened to them, except they found out, so they're trying to protect us. I know this sounds like some conspiracy theory, but they had another telepath come and check." They lick their lips anxiously, looking to Nanami for backup. "I mean, growing up people called our commune a cult all the time, but and was mostly just because we were pagans. I really don't think these people are a cult, or Xavier's either, but then again...the way some of the teachers talk about Professor Xavier, like he's some kind of mutant messiah --" They break out, gasping. "Mister Tes -- I mean, your brother, is he still going there to work? You have to warn him!" "It's pretty intense," says Nanami, nodding along as Harm talks. "Sort of Scandal level drama happening out in Salem. I thought mutant school would be more explodey, less intrigue, but this is -- something." She folds her hands on the table, eyes drifting to the window. "Isn't your brother, like..." This just trails off. She gives a small wince, looks down at the menu intently. "Xavier wouldn't mess with him, right?" Gaétan's brows are hiking. He chuffs quietly at Nanami's awkward hesitation. "Xavier wouldn't mess with him, but not because of the cancer. He's kind of un-mess-with-able." He wraps both hands around his teacup and takes a long sip. "Honestly, Xavier being a weirdo creep is probably the least shocking news you could have told me about the school -- but some randos just putting you up in the lap of luxury out of the goodness of their hearts while you sort through it is a little bit more sketch. Where did they come from? Why you and not -- everyone else at the school?" Nanami lifts her hands in a surrendering gesture. "I take the clothes, I enjoy the fancy pool, and I don't ask questions. Nobody's done anything skeevy yet. If they start making noise about initiation rites, I'm on the next --" A small grimace. "-- bus back to Chicago." Her fingers fidget with the edge of her menu. "Your brother works there, though, do you think he -- knew?" Harm tilts their head slowly to one side. "The Pure Life Center people -- well, I think one of the owns it and is super rich, but they're all Xavier's alumni, that's why they care. But I guess...that is surprisingly generous?" They frown deeply. "I'm a little surprised I didn't think this was sketch, actually. They haven't messed with us, though, at least no one I've talked to. They're trying to get more kids off the campus as they go, but I don't think that's gonna work, like sooner or later they're just going to need to confront the school, right? Maybe Matt can help them with that, especially if Xavier can't mess with him." "What, Matt? No." Gaétan's voice sharpens, slightly, with this immediate firm answer. A second later he's reconsidering with a small tensing of his jaw: "I dunno. I don't think so. I think he'd be mad, too." He has some small amount of time to mull this over quietly as a server arrives to take Harm and Nanami's orders -- he spends it frowning out the window, fidgeting with his teacup. "I'm sure he'd help," he decides finally. "I'll ask, anyway. What a confrontation that would be." Nanami's lips twitch to one side. She doesn't immediately respond, busy ordering herself some hojicha and a matcha parfait. The mention of a Matt-vs-Xavier confrontation draws an immediate snort out of her that she tries to stifle behind a palm. "Some people are just nice," she says once she composes herself. "If they were sketch, wouldn't they have done something -- sketch? Unless they're waiting till they've collected us all Pokemon style to unleash the uber-sketchiness. Genuinely, though, I think they just -- care. Kinda wish they'd get on with fixing it before classes though, or my parents are going to ask so many questions." Harm orders a pot of Jin Xuan oolong and a genmaicha mochi ice cream. They glance, startled, at Nanami's stifled laughter, but then their eyes widen slightly and they blush. "I mean it'd be like -- a battle of wills or something, right?" They resettle themselves, tugging self-consciously at the folds of their wrap pants. "I think maybe the Pure Life people...don't know what to do. I mean I do think they're nice, but I think they're also scared, because of what Professor Xavier did to them. I think someone else is going to have to make the first move, whether that's Matt, or..." They shrug, shaking their head. "In my head it just went full on mustache twirling from opposite sides of a chessboard where you all are the pawns --" Gaétan's fingers are twirling an imaginary mustache beside his face. "Guess neither of them have mustaches but I could definitely see my brother playing Shadowy Chess with the Professor." He exhales heavily, hands drumming lightly against the edge of the table. "We're running up hard into September so, yeah. I guess someone's going to have to."