Mutant Bowl II After Party

February 01, 2015:

The X-Men gather after NFL Super Bowl XLIX in the X-Mansion. It is as colorful as expected.

X-Mansion, Westchester County

Xavier's crib.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

When Logan got back from his beer run, everybody had piled out. So for the past few minutes, Logan carted up the beer, the chips, the dip, the hotdogs, all the food, beverages, and snacks that he had bought. It cost a pretty penny too, probably a couple of hundred bucks. There was Vodka, rum, whiskey, and some other things too.

Now seated on the couch, in the middle of it, Logan was enjoying a bottle of Molson's Canadian as he watched the Seahawks leading the Patriots. Too bad he's the only one, but that television is simply massive. It fills the entire wall. Far better than being there, even if it snowing outside.

Lunair is totally supposed to be in hiding. When she's not hiding in a safe house video gaming, out in space (although she's sorta stopped that so much since Taskmaster shot the ship - and it turns out he was not in fact, Skeletor) or what have you, she's - hanging out around here. Getting used to her identity as a mutant is taking time. She's one of the lucky ones, who can generally pass until she pulls a weapon out of nowhere and blasts someone. Nevertheless, she's thoughtful enough to drop by and hang out.

… she's just got a metaphorical raincloud over her head. Does she remember that…? But teenagers have a sixth sense for food. They do, it's true, ask a doctor, okay? Either way, her path takes her through here and she kind of blinks. "OH hey! They let you in! I wasn't misremembering…" This is good!

There were three different viewing parties in the mansion, and Logan was in the one upstairs, which was meant for the faculty, special guests, and generally the adults. The children were downstairs in two other rooms. But Lunair makes her way up, and she's greeted by the man she called 'sonofabitch' before she learned that was just Scott's pet nickname for him, and he was instead known as Logan.

Raising his beer to the new arrival, Logan smiled, "Lunair, nice ta see you again." If he knows she's not supposed to be up here, he doesn't show it. Maybe he just doesn't care. To him, she's old enough to drink. She might be legal age in Canada. But down here, the drinking age was 21. She didn't look that old.

At her surprise, he says, "yeah, got a guest room and everything," at least he thinks he has one. Professor Xavier promised him one, but nobody's actually shown him to it yet. He's feeling a bit awkward of late. Scott, the blue guy, and Lunair grilled him the other day. There was more grilling today, and that thing with Jean. He really had no idea where he stood. "Help yerself," he gestured to the food and beverages, "maybe not the booze," he adds in case the faculty object to that sort of thing.

Okay. So Jean was there. Probably a bit after Lunair had arrived. She debated on taking a nap, but when that didn't work, she grabbed the jacket that was on loan to her and took it into town to be cleaned. And then returned, stepping through the foyer to the smell of food and the general quietness at which she thought it would be alright to slip in, grab a plate, and slip back into her room. Which is what she meant to do.

Spying the two there now, her brows knit into a frown, the bruise upon her cheek is a bit more prominent than it was earlier. The discoloration of black, purples, and blur radiated so far to rest beneath her eye as she squints, waves silently, and murmurs quietly. "Pardon…"

To the food she went, grabbing up a plate, bottle soon tucked beneath her arm, fixings soon added. She didn't really want to interrupt.

There's also the fact that giving booze to someone who materializes explosives, nudity rays and other bits of mayhem is probably a bad idea at any age. Though, maybe just one…? Naaah. Lunair wouldn't get anyone into trouble. Her head is foggy and she's a bit elsewhere. There's an owlish blink. "Oh." Oops. One story too far up. She looks over her shoulder. "Sorry." But then, he's smiling and raising a beer! It takes her a moment to - consciously smile, and lift a hand in a wave. Otherwise, her resting expression is one of blank. At least it's not resting brat face or worst.

"Hi there - Mr. Logan, right?" She remembers! "I'm sorry about the other day. It's been really rough lately." She oohs. "Wow, thanks. Um. It's just you?" This puzzles her. And then along came a Jean. She waves. "Hiya." Lunair is standing, so she likely just got here in turn.

At the scent of Jean, Logan looked up. He didn't need to see people to know they were there. He smelled them. Looking her over as she began to fill up a plate of food, Logan patted the seat beside him, one of them anyway. He was in the middle of the couch. There were recliners too. Plenty of seats for everyone, even enough for them to all lay down if they wanted. It was a massive room, and felt cavernous with just three people there.

"How are ya feelin', red?" He asked as he took note of the discolouration of her cheek. His first instinct to help her, to provide some medical care, but after the disastrous results of the first time, he keeps himself in check. She didn't say one word to him after he caught her head, helped her to her chair, and got her a makeshift ice pack. It was weird.

"You got it," he offers to Lunair when she gets his name right. After all, it's a hard name to remember. But he does correct her, "Logan, just Logan. An' it's okay. No harm, no foul. Why don't you get some food, there's a couple of soft drinks. Not sure if they're cold enough though. Have a seat?"

Seeing Lunair, at least she was in good spirits, she had to smile. She had heard from Scott that she was being chased by Hydra, but for her to be out in the open and /here/? Relief. Just plain relief. And the girl was going to eat. "Lunair… grab something to eat, will you?" She wasn't going to bring up the fact that she knows to Lunair. Today was going to be an easy day. Of football watching (cringes) and food brought in.

"I have a headache, but it'll go away soon." She responds towards Logan, there was still that awkwardness she felt earlier, so she tries to keep it tight and offer up a smile in return. "I'm alright. It'll go away." The offering of the seat was thought about, and with a shrug given, she moves towards the large sofa to flop down upon it, plate easily balanced and soon, dug into. Nicely, of course. And neat. Can't forget neat.

Well, Lunair can't be ALL angst all the time. She looks concerned after a moment. "Are you okay? How are you?" She doesn't know what happened, but - people don't normally-? She furrows her eyebrows. Lunair lets it pass after a moment. "Sure, thanks. And I don't mind it being a little warm," She remarks. "My head's been kinda fuzzy lately," Lunair shrugs. She will sit near them, giving Jean plenty of space. She smiles to Jean. Right. Food.

It is a happy, convenient distraction. "It's good to see you guys." Really. She does seem quietly fond of them. "I only remember football from-" From…? Hmmm. "The TVs." Yes. There you go. "Who's winning? Which one do we root for?" Questions, always questions.

While Jean settled into the seat next to Logan, he took another sip of his beer. The camera focused on a man who had noticeable love handles, and what looked like a stomach spilling well over his pants. Logan remarks, "and they call that a finely tuned athlete." He understands the game, he even enjoys it, but it's not rugby, it's not hockey, it's not soccer, and it's not even basketball. Those were his sports.

Explaining to Lunair, who seems to have given them space, "Seattle's up by three points. There's four minutes and twenty five seconds left in the game, so that means it's gonna take forty five minutes to play. New England has the ball, and it's second down."

Since they both seem to have bad heads, Logan will reach onto the counter, looking for the remote. But it's not there. He had intended to turn it down, but he's not sure where the controller is. When that fails, he shrugs, takes another sip of his beer. "I hope you both feel better soon." And as he gets a better look at Jean's shiner, he seems almost prideful, "I bet you gave even worse to the other girl." He never did catch her name.

Jean nods quickly towards Lunair. "I'm alright! I'm fine too!" She saves the talking for once she was done eating, allowing the large plate she fixed to sit between her and Lunair, turning a little towards the woman to focus upon the plate more instead of the game at hand.

As Logan begins to explain, her brows shoot up, gaze falling upon the screen with a look that was as almost as vacant as she could muster. "Why in the world would four minutes take forty five minutes to actually play? I don't get it."

Lunair had a fuzzy head, and she probably had a hair line fracture, but that wouldn't stop either of them from eating. "In a way, yes." Jean admits, but she didn't want to talk about that in the open. She still feels horrible about it, and it showed upon her face. Instead, there was a Lunair!

"How have you been holding up… with… everything that's going on, Luna.."

Lunair smiles at the two, looking quietly amused by Logan's commentary. "I see. Who are you- cheering for? Or is this watching because it's happening?" Headtilt. Not all is lost on her. She seems pretty smart when she catches on. Then a pause. "Worse to the other girl? Was there a fight or something?" She seems curious, because combat is just a life condition, really.

She seems to be a grazer. Little bit of food, eat, little more. She looks skeptical for a moment - and that's about as much unconscious facial expression as they're going to get, really. She's missing something and it's hard to puzzle out what. "Well, I won't ask more, then." She lets it go at that, seeing Jean's discomfort. Practice is slowly working. Maybe. or she's figured it out logically. hard to tell. At the question to her, Lunair falls quiet. "I feel like I am coming undone. More papers were found. I was not just a happy experiment, I was created by HYDRA. I don't really even know. No one likes Nazis. I don't like Nazis. I will cheerfully blow them up. But, I don't know." It's distorting her sense of self. "I can't complain. It could be way worse." She shrugs. "So I guess I'm okay because I still get to see everyone. Space and here are pretty nice. That's about most of it. I still do my homework and go to classes. It would look really weird if I up and vanished, after all. But I'm sorry. This isn't really a happy topic, is it?" She sighs.

"Um. The snow was pretty cool. I figured out how to make a snow ball cannon." Oh boy.

"Commercial breaks, timeouts, two minute warnings, setup, this isn't my game. In close games, the last few minutes seem to drag on forever." At one point, there's a tackle that fails because the player goes for the waist. "Look there, he went for the waist because these guys grow up thinking you gotta take out the other with brute force. If he'd have gone fer the legs, the other guy would have stopped. And if you can't get a leg, just clip a heel, trip him up. They make it about power, when it's finesse they need."

Logan ponders, "I'm not really cheerin' for either of them." He's wearing a blue hat that has a white and yellow 'W' with an American football streaking by with a sort of lightning bolt motif. "I suppose the Patriots, if I were pressed." Then he adds, "yer right. It's on, there ain't anything else on, so we watch it. It's tradition." He'll leave the question about Ravager to Jean, since she knows more about it than he does.

Lunair's revelations taken him a bit by surprise. He knows Hydra, not fond of it, but he knows of it. Leaning forward, he sets his beer down on a coaster and addresses her directly, "Lunair, I don't know where you came from, or what they did to you, but you are Lunair, and no one can take that away from you. You get to decide who you are, who you want to be. It's up to you and nobody else."

It was all sad really, Lunair's story. There was a pang of sympathy in it for the girl as she stops with her eating and beer drinking, her own set aside as she glances towards Logan with a warm smile as he offers his words, and hers in turn.

"Lunair." She holds out her hand, hoping that the young woman would take. "I can help you not come undone… I can even help you cloak yourself whenever you move out into the open from the public eye. Make you invisible. At least until the threat is disabled. I can make it so hard for them to find you, that by the time they do? We'll be there to stop them without them ever hurting you."

She could offer that much at least. "You're not going to be alone in this."

Snow ball cannons? Whaaat? Jean needs to get in on that action.

"I used to be someone else," Lunair admits. "I think. It isn't my first name. But it's my name now, and that's that." She smiles weakly. But she listens to football chat, and tilts her head. "I see." Lunair goes with it. "Well, it does seem to get people enthusiastic. There was someone selling stuff yesterday," She recalls. She doesn't press her question about what happened to Jean. Socially impaired as she is, even Lunair picks up that it's a subject best not broached.

"It's kind of a long story. A lot of people have sad stories here," Lunair considers. "I don't know why that makes my head fuzzy," She admits. "But I guess even if I have to carve a bloody swathe through them, I really don't intend to be a - whatever it is they wanna do." She shrugs. "It feels weird, to be entirely honest. And I'm not the only one." She seems worried. She looks to Jean. Lunair seems uqietly touched, and accepts the hand. "Aw. Thank you. I appreciate it. It's just a weird feeling after finding out a really ugly truth, you know? And we'll see. I'm not the only one they want." She considers. "But thank you, it means a lot." Nod. "I - am sorry." way to be a Debbie Downer. Deep breath. "Thank you for the food and talking." Yes. She's at a loss. It's tough realizing a good chunk of your past isn't entirely accurate. Hmmm.

If Logan had more of a handle on himself, he'd see parallels with Lunair. But unfortunately, while they have a lot in common, Logan is largely unfamiliar with his own history. All he knows for certain is that he doesn't know much about his past. It's all a jumble, some memories are true, others are false, and even more are simply closed off, hidden from his mind.

Jean's comments about being able to cloak her are appreciated, though not necessarily understood. "You have friends and support. You don't need to worry, Lunair… or whatever you decide to call yerself. You're a good kid, and you have value. Never forget that. Be true to who you are and what you want to be." He tries to be inspirational, but his attempts remind him of why he's best suited to remain the quiet one, stabbing things and people. He's no leader, he's just a guy who gets things done. Sometimes people follow.

As Lunair takes her hand, Jean impresses herself upon her. Not in the physical way, but mental. She leaves a piece of herself within Lunair, nothing born of fire or deadly and dangerous, but something born of sly and full of sneak. Something that would help her move along unnoticed.

Essentially. If Lunair moved, people would unknowingly part the way for her without a seconds thought, especially if she doesn't want them to see her. It would be all her choice, that subconscious need to disappear… etc. That's if she was accepted.

She tightens her grip faintly upon Lunair then releases her hand carefully, her own deep breath taken as she turns to focus upon the game, but… she really couldn't. "You two are peas in a pod." And… that's all she had to offer for that moment.

Lunair looks to the two. She nods. "I'm grateful for that. Thank you." To be fair to Logan, she may well have issues of her own. Desperately under-socialised, she's sort of a blank slate. It's been kind of hilarious and kind of sad all at once. Either way, hot dog!

Then a blink. Her eyes widen at the impression. Wha? Whoa. Huh. How strange. Miiiiiiiind~Stuuuuuff~ One eye's a little narrowed, the other a little widened. It's left her a little boggled. And it will probably help a good deal, even with the magi at HYDRA's disposal and metahuman hunters.

"Thanks," Smile. "And wait. Really?" Pause. "… should I shave?" Uh oh. "I don't think I've even had beer yet…" Chinrubchinrub.

Logan could use that trick, if only he knew. Parting a crowd like the red sea, that would come in handy. There's so much about Jean that he still doesn't know. With the game now over, the trophy presentation, he turns his attention away, instead looking at Jean and Lunair. He sets his beer, which is now empty, on the table, though he makes sure to use a coaster.

Reaching back with his right arm, he scratches at the back of his head, just over the hair line. He's so calm, so casual, and then Lunair seems to spaz out. He pulls his hand away, leaning forward to watch, uncertain of what he can do to help. More to Jean, but said out loud, he asks, "is she, is she all right?"

He'd help, if he knew how, but since he doesn't, he stands up from his seat on the couch, leaning away from Jean and over to grab the bag of potato chips, which are salt and vinegar. Not the healthiest choice, but they taste good. He'll have a few, and offer some to Jean first, then Lunair if she's calmed down.

Jean watches her carefully. To willingly leave and accept an impression could be… a wonderful thing. The reactions quite funny, and the after effects not so great. « Mind stuff. Correct. You can reach me this way, and I can find you if you want me to. Just… try not to over share. Anything. However, if you eat something great, let me know. I love food. » This was all sent to Lunair telepathically, and if she could have seen the way Jean ate at the B&B, she would understand.

Though, the mentioning of her needing to shave has her cracking up, a deep breath taken as her knee is slapped, a nod gone to Logan but… she couldn't rightfully explain to him just yet as to what was wrong with Lunair. Because truthfully, nothing was.

"Luna, no. Peas in a pod. You both are alike… oh geez…" She manages to breath out. "She's fine Logan. I just worked a mojo on her."

Lunair wasn't spazzing. It's a serious consideration. Not everyone can rock the 'do that Logan do, after all. All that aside, it did take a bit to get used to. Lunairbrains are mysterious. Or just very specific and literal. Hard to say. She might be on the autistic spectrum, but it could be environmental. And she could just be incredibly eccentric. Life is funny that way. But there's nothing overtly wrong in her brain. She is very, very literal though. There's a pause. « Okay, and sure. There are a lot of nice places, » She considers. Lunair simply - accepts it, accepts that.

There's perks to being a blank slate. And then she blinks and grins at the cracking up. "Oh… Okay," She gets it after a moment. "I didn't feel really fuzzy anyway," Beam. "Thank you." She doesn't seem offended in the slightest. But she is amused, reaching for a soda.

Lunair does ask, "Does he do a lot of marksmanship or like plants, then?"

Leaning into Jean, Logan whispers, "at some point, yer gonna have to explain yer powers to me. I keep feeling like I walked in, halfway through a movie." Perhaps she'll explain it tomorrow when they visit that Health Club she mentioned. Though he's still not sure why Jean wanted to go to a Health Club. Maybe she's dying to see him in his bike shorts?

But those thoughts are put aside for the moment. Where Lunair is eccentric, open, and a talker, Logan keeps to himself. He remains quiet. He's even a little distant, though he's been trying in vain to work on that. There are parts of him that he'll share, and most he keeps to himself.

"Plants? They're all right." He decides to leave the other part off. No need to tell them he's got training in long range and melee shootings. He doesn't want to scare them.

Lunair gets a grin as she listens to Logan's whisper, answering Lunair first, she offers up a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know yet." This was an honest answer, though a nod was given towards Logan as she pushes herself to a stand.

"You'll have to ask him though." She gives a good stretch, then prepares to leave, offering up a finger wave as she goes. She had things to do really, sleep to get, connections to fortify and children to put to bed. The last part was all true.

And to be entirely fair, Lunair has yet to reveal her power to Logan, too. She is quiet as Logan whispers. She won't judge him for wearing bike shorts. He totally can. Even if it's crazy cold outside? Lunair seems to like people well enough when not killing them. And maybe she hides her secrets in her own way. The HYDRA thing was kind of important because Nazis have an ugly way of turning up on one's doorstep like the world's worst Girl Scouts.

She nods. Though, Lunair seems curious at the unanswered questions. She smiles at Jean. "Fair enough." Nod. "Have a good night. I hope you feel better soon." She really IS curious, but asking someone about being hurt in a fight is kind of personal. Maybe it's 'you should see the other guy'…? Who knows? "Be well." She goes to finish her soda a bit.

While Jean had used powers around him and he had made assumptions, Lunair had not yet demonstrated any power, she just had something of a complex and confusing backstory. He was still trying to wrap his head around what titbits he had heard.

Before Jean leaves, Logan will think about asking about the guest rooms. But she seems too tired. Instead, he'll just find it on his own. Shouldn't be too hard to find an unoccupied room with his nose, or an excuse to accidentally wander into Jean's? That could be fun.

Someone really should have explained that to him, given him a tour or something, but oh well. "Night Jean." With her gone now, he'll look to Lunair, "I'd give you the remote, but I don't know where it is."

Lunair waves as Jean goes. Then she looks thoughtful. "Sorry, I normally don't talk about myself this much. But it's been weird few weeks," She looks sheepish. "I bet the guest rooms must be nice?" She is curious. Lunair has an odd story, but a lot of mutants do.

Nevertheless, she doesn't seem to push people too hard. She looks to Logan and then thinks. "Did you see it at any point?" She glances here and there, even lifting under chips. A good excuse to pour some into a paper bowl, yes? "I'm not sure what I should ask. I don't know what's too much or not enough."

"I wouldn't know, though it looks like I'm gonna find out," he replies about the guest room he'll probably be staying in. This place is so weird. He's grilled one by some people day, grudgingly accepted the next. He's been flirted with by others, then ignored. It's like everyone around here has multiple personalities or something.

At least Lunair has remained consistent. She's been nice. "It?" He asks, not sure what she means by that. As awkward as she is socially, he's probably the wrong kind of mentor. "I may not be the best person to mimic, Lunair." At least he figured out she was looking at him as an example.

Lunair ohs. "I see." She seems to be pretty friendly. There's an expression of confusion across her face. She looks confused. "The remote. Where did you last see it?" She blink. Blinks. Stares at Logan a long moment. Her expression is blank, as if she didn't really pick that up. "…" Head. Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiilt. hmmm. Hmmm… "Yeah, you lose remotes." She finally states after a long moment. She has a sense of humour about it at least. "You seem like a good enough person. Anyone else would've probably punted someone. It's sad we have to be so suspicious," She sighs.

Nevertheless, Lunair is looking around the table and couch for a remote. Ponder. Peer. "So don't worry about it. I'll follow - I have no idea. I usually do my own thing."

Friendly doesn't even begin to cover Lunair. She's so much more, like she's running on pure sugar, at least, that's how she comes across to Logan. "Hey now, no, I didn't have it. The game was on when I got here. But if you can find where they put the remote, yer free to change the channel." He doesn't want to see that much post game coverage. The game's over. No need to dwell on it.

With the remote probably gone, Logan figures he might as well get a snack, so he goes to the food and beverages he bought for the party, the one that everyone left while he got the provisions, he'll make himself a platter of salami, crackers, grapes, and cheese. Then he'll head on back to the couch. Putting a grape into his mouth, he'll ask her, "so, what brought you to Xavier's?"

Rose comes in for leftovers, she could not sleep, not well at least. The workout shorts are still worn, keeping low upon hips to not mess with the 3 inch gauze covered incision along the base of her spine and vertically rising, though now two throwing blades straddle the gauze like a 'V', tucked within shorts line. The midriff tank top bearing the scrawl in white of 'Dangerous' across it hanging off a shoulder, her white hair tousled and in the process of being combed through with one hand, stopping with fingers caught in the tangles to yawn as bare feet carry her eerily silently into the room.

That single blue eye pops open with the sound of voices and her lips clamp shut. "I uh, Vodka, I ordered vodka…" Eye darts to and fro over the bottles now, plucking hers up and finding a paper cup for some soda. Not a chaser, but nothing like dry mouth in winter.

She came out again because of Rose. That was Jean's patient after all, unwilling, but still a patient. Perhaps it was the slight whine that Nate left once she left the room that jarred her out into the open, but either way she was there, following not too close, but close enough behind the woman to keep a careful eye.

She was like a sentinel, perhaps, leaning against the entry way, not giving notice to her presence but masking herself, shielding the very sight of her from all eyes yet… the scent would possibly still remain. Jean was there. But not.

Being a total stalker.

Because she's in a social environment she feels comfortable in. Pulling huge guns on people is arguably less friendly. Life is all relative. It could also be that Lunair's fighting the sheer angstocity of being in hiding while being chased by HYDRA. Certain mutants might be upset if she stole their angst production jobs! She looks amused and nods. "That's okay. I'm sure I'll find it. Or I'll just figure out a way to mess with-" Eh? People are coming out.

Lunair freezes mid-search, going still. Because if one is perfectly still, they can't see you. Or was that manatees? She forgets. There's an owlish blink at the newcomer and Jean. "Um. Hi. Vodka's all yours. Don't forget to drink water or something after. I think." Was it water or hamburgers? She seems curious, but she falls quiet. Just. Quiet.

Logan didn't take orders. He just went out and got supplies. He figured that the party would still be going on when he got back, but instead, the room had emptied out. Still, he did pick up some Vodka, Smirnoff. He was paying for it out of his own pocket, so he bought what was available at a reasonable price. Unfortunately, Grey Goose was not reasonably priced.

"Smirnoff's over there, to your left," he'll direct, and ask, "you got a name, or do I just call you Cyclops?" And with a grin, Logan would head towards Jean, not giving away her position, but heading in her direction, keeping his back to her. If she wanted to sneak in undetected, he was going to offer a nice big human shield so she could dart behind a couch or something. It's funny how his mind worked, always treating things like it's covert ops. And to give Jean a distraction, Logan will ask, "Lunair, you find that remote yet?"

Rose had already gathered the bottle, and with a quick exchange left a 20 in its place. She would leave no footprints, fingerprints, or debts, it was not her way, she did not want to owe anyone anything. At least how it worked in her mind.

Lunair's look get's her one right back. Literally and figuratively. Stare.

The bottle is opened, she drinks right out of it, lowered… And the stare still commences until Logan speaks.

"You keep calling me that and I will find an apt place for your tongue." Give her a few more shots and she will elaborate in a detailed manner. "And I'll make sure Edward sticks for you." Edward the Sparkly, or Edward the scissor handed emo. Whichever is fine for her, though Logan's placement at the entryway does nothing to lighten the mood, her brows furrowing.

"Rose." She says after another pull from the bottle, holding it out for Lunair. "Want some? Or am I exposed?" Rose looks down, nope, no nip slip. Back to Lunair as she shrugs her shirt back onto her shoulder.

This Rose was a spritely one, Jean had to admit. There would be a time where she'd need to continue to watch, even take down insults for her own using to employ when threatening enemies of her own. No. That would sound weird. It would probably sound like Starfire trying to recite the gangsta credo to a child. Word up!

As Logan blocks her, he could probably hear her smack her lips, moving a little to the side to keep Rose and Lunair within her sights. « Move a little away from the entry. » She mentally tells Logan, that's if his addled brain could hear it.

Lunair pauses. "I thought Cyclops was taken," She looks confused. She is unaware of Jean, before. Wait. There it is. Like a very determined greased ferret, she flops to the floor a second and grabs it. "Yup. Here it is. Someone knocked it under a chair. Did you want it?" She's nothing if thoughtful. You is left deliberately vague, it seems. There's another blink at Rose.

Her eyes widen a bit at the exchange. Goodness. The Edward thing - her face is blank, she doesn't seem to show emotion unless it hits particularly hard or she works at it. Nevertheless, she'll offer the remote to someone. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Rose." She's well mannered for how odd she is. "Oh, I'm good, thank you. No, sorry. I just - couldn't remember if I'd met you." She's being honest. She is sheepish a moment. "I was going to feel bad if I'd forgotten. Welcome."

The one eyed lady paid for the bottle and she gave him a name. In Logan's book, that's a good thing. He could hear Jean's voice in his head. That was weird. Two telepaths in his head in one day. That can't be good. But at least they were the right telepaths. Charles Xavier and Jean Grey weren't his idea of bad people, not like the ones from Weapon Plus.

He does as asked, moving away from the entry, but still offering Jean the visual defence if she so desired it. He thought he was being helpful. And Lunair finally tracks down the remote control. "Nah, not fer me Lunair. I just thought you might want to watch somethin' on the TV." Generally, he's not terribly interested in TV except for the news, sports, and the occasional movie.

"So Rose, you got a codename? Cyclops is taken, but what about… Jackal?" He's just making conversation, playing with her, seeing how easy it is for her to keep that aggression in check. It's pretty close to the surface from what he can see. That can't be good for her long term.

Watching Lunair Rose just… Blank stares and sips from that bottle like it was making everything make sense. Lunair seemed harmless in action and words, her body language being read for every minute detail, but the one that popped out for her was pushed aside, if the girl wanted to discuss it, she would, just the same as Rose. She'll give what she gets, and if it is button pushing…

That's left up to tall dark and hairy it seemed. "Dude, we haven't even had a good silent moment together, which I'd simply /cherish/. So I don't think you've earned that." Passing by Lunair she settles on the arm of the couch, not sinking into the confines, she had a bed for that, which…

Looking at Lunair again she tilts her head. "You from this… place?"

Lunair does look harmless. For now. She seems a bit off, lacking expression when not working at it. She ohs softly at the question. "I guess Kittenbowl might be cute," She considers. Then a blink. She doesn't really grasp their teasing, and it's left her behind. She looks between them, confused. Blink. She seems sort of thoughtful, cautious when not operating on sugar and enthusiasm. Hmmhmmhm.

She'll get a hot dog while they tease one another. Lunair stops at the question. "Sort of. I was offered a place awhile ago. I tend to do my own thing, since I am lucky enough to pass. But I like the people here." She falls silent a moment, before considering it. "I - Are you - I get the feeling you fight. From um…" Pause. SAVE YOURSELF LUNA. "… your mighty biceps."

Sad trombone.

Logan gives Rose a knowing smirk at the talk about how she'd cherish a silent moment with him. She's young, and she's got a lot of attitude. She also seems familiar somehow. He hasn't placed it yet, but he's sure he's met someone close to her, a former teammate, a mentor, he'll figure it out, but there's something about her. "All right, Rose it is." It suits her. Beautiful, but she has sharp thorns.

Lunair may look harmless, but they're often the most dangerous in Logan's experience. "Kitten Bowl?" he repeats a little unsure. "Is that your codename, Lunair?" Does the girl even have one? Does she have powers?

When she gets a hot dog, Logan will make nice and ask, "can you toss me one of those?" Hot dogs aren't great, but they're classic. How can you not like them? Her question earns her a brief chuckle, "oh yeah, I can fight. Shame there isn't a place around here to train." He doesn't know about the Danger Room. He's going to love it when he finds out.

Rose's staring won't let up, that single ocular of frigid blue only concealed when she blinks… Slowly. Lunair is the kind of socially awkward that puts the bitch inside Rose to a whimpering shame. Tail tucked, back arched, little pee, whole nine yards.

When Logan finally stops trying to poke the briar bush, Rose stops bristling, though he did not give a name in reciprocation. "You got my name. And yours might be?" She looks to them both this time, still watching as that bottle tips back and…

Lunair talks again. 'Mighty Biceps', she lost it and vodka sprayed, her hand slapping up to try and stop it from becoming a mist across the gathering area, in turn getting some up her nose and making her eye tear.

"Oh shit." Fanning self. "It burns… Yeah it's nice here." Wavewave. "Jesus tits."

Alright. All was right with the world. Perhaps telling Logan to move away from the exit did some good, Rose was relaxed and… holy crap. Was that a smile? And a laugh? She could relax now, but she was still going to watch in silence.

Like a stalke… heeey.

Lunair watches them quietly, seeming amused. "No, it's a show. They show off kittens. My codename is Armory," She explains. She does have powers! Then she nods. "Want anything on it?" She asks. Lunair doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "And yes there is. Didn't they show you the Danger Room?" She furrows her eyebrows, looking consterned. "I get to work on my powers in there sometimes. They get r-e-a-l-l-y grumpy if I blow up cars or practice with rocket launchers and stuff outside. Or something," She considers. "Oh well." And most horrifyingly? This doesn't bother Lunair in the slightest. It's just something she does.

Then there's a blink back at Rose. Lunair is genuinely friendly. But she's weapons grade awkward. Something about being desperately undersocialized most of her life. But she smiles after Rose loses it. She doesn't giggle at least. "Oh dear. Do you want a paper towel?" She doesn't seem ruffled. She does seem happy Rose likes it. And Jesus tits? Lunair looks owlish again. "Well, there are a lot of boobs around here. But I'm not sure he has any." Shrug.

"Logan," just like he had said earlier when he introduced himself, but Rose seems to have missed that. Or Logan's memory is even more messed up than he thinks. He'll move away from covering for Jean to offer a hand. Sure, she may have sucker punched Jean, but Jean said she deserved it, and so far, Rose has been pretty straight with him.

But then he gets sprayed with vodka. It might burn others. But he endures it. Breathing it in, through his nose, his mouth, getting it in his eyes, and sadly, all over his clothes. He coughs briefly, getting clean air. "What was that for?"

To Lunair, he'll ask, "a little bit of ketchup, mustard, and a lot of mayonnaise." Yeah, he's Canadian. They like mayonnaise on everything. It's a thing, just like poutine, which is also good with mayonnaise. Wiping himself, his face mostly, he nods, "yeah, a paper towel would be great." No sense ignoring when one's offered.

Rose is holding a hand up and waving off any offer of aid as she uses the back of her hand to wipe vodka from her lips, pausing and looking up as Logan is standing right there… Apparently in the stream. Casualties of amusement. It happens. A single tear builds from ducts to push the last of the vodka out and she is wiping that off then shaking Logan's hand.

"You stepped into it?" Rose responds to Logan's accusation-seeming question, if it was intentional she'd likely follow through swinging the bottle like a mace. Though as Lunair is making the hot dogs, Rose gathers the remote, turnin' and changing the channel to Animal Globe's Kitten Bowl, glaring at it as she watches the cuteness unfold. The remote remains cocked in the TV's direction and the look of /really/ slips on features. "They better have one with puppies. Dogs rule and this is going to overload me on my cute limits for the night."

Dropping back to the arm of the couch she stops to grab a few meatballs on toothpicks, hot dogs are too questionable for her. Like Chinese meat on a stick. Terrifying when it looks like one thing but is 'supposedly' another. "Are all the wings segregated? I feel like I am back in an archaic religious school and will be shunned for sleeping next to my boyfriend tomorrow." Yep, Nate had his own room in his own wing, but Rose wasn't having it. Big shocker.

"Yes." She states, melding her way out of the shadows as she moves to take up a seat near Rose. If anything, she came out for the kittens, but there were a few loose ends that she needed to tie up. "But I don't think they'll mind if you and Nate share an abode, but I'd like to ask you from doing so for two days."

She's aware of their relationship, but… health first. "Make that one day."

Which reminds her. "Logan, I need to show you to your room as well. It's not too far from here. It's actually quite close to Remy's… though he moved out of his a long time ago."

Lunair smiles, hands a paper towel to the Logan. She will put a hot dog in a bun, and put the toppings on he asks for. "And yes, there is a place to train without worry as I mentioned," She explains. She doesn't protest as Rose takes the remote. "I think they do, I'm not sure." She will make her own hot dog after offering the mayo having one to Logan. She just accepts it. Lunair has one upside to being so impaired. She simply accepts people as they are.

She looks thoughtful at Rose. "I don't think so. But I get lost in here sometimes," She admits. "I know that students stay in a studenty place, but that's kind of - usual?" She shrugs. "I usually kept off to my own stuff so I wasn't in the way or taking stuff from people who can't hide like I do," She remarks. "Also, it was summer." Sagenod. Lunair moves to take a seat. "But I'm not one hundred percent on how visitors work these days. I'm - in an odd situation," She admits before falling quiet. Kittens!

"I did," Logan replied grimly. He got soaked. He was trying to shake her hand. It happens, unfortunately. But he does shake Rose's hand in the end, and will use the paper towel from Lunair to try and clean himself up a bit. But then, he suddenly reaches for his head. There was a noise. They couldn't hear it, but he could. He couldn't place it. It wasn't natural. Maybe some technophile working on a new device, but whatever it was, it was loud. He had trouble concentrating.

Looking up to Jean, he seems like he missed what she was saying, at least at first. And then the sound, whatever it was, it disappears. "Sorry, there was a noise." Superhumanly acute senses are usually great, but sometimes, they're a curse. No wonder he likes living out in the countryside. "Room," he says, and wonders if it'll be close to hers. That would be nice. And as his mind processes things, Nate and Rose are in a relationship? Another thing worth noting.

Accepting the hot dog, he'll take a bite from it, and ask, "oh, you'll have to show me that training room at some point, Lunair." He loves to train. He may have a healing factor, but he doesn't maintain his physique without exercise.

Rose watches as Jean's presence unfolds, that stoicism returning to her features, yep mindfuck woman, she knew it! She wanted to point an accusational finger but… This was not the witch burning days, although it'd fit the romm situations. "He's there now, sleeping. I don't think us sleepin' in the same bed will do anything to my health… Doctor Grey." Stare.

Well she told them what was up, honesty was the best policy. Rule breakers and risk takers and all that jazz.

Rose is slowly capping off the vodka, but then she glances over her company again and thinks the better of it. Placing it to prop betwixt thighs she shifts to face them all as Jean accompanies her.

"Odd situation?" Her head tilts slightly as she looks at Lunair with the inquiry, glancing at Logan, silently asiding with the desire to see a training room titled the Danger Room. Right up her alley.

Jean said nothing. The conversation flowed around her until her name was heard, a sidelong glance given to Rose and a shrug of her shoulders. "You say that now until he knees you in the back." That was her only reasoning, really.

She draws herself to a stand, feeling a little tired, the day was long and in itself and she was sure that Rose was in safe hands. "Logan. Find me when you're ready to go to your room. Third floor, fifth door on the right." And with that, she just strolls out. But not before giving a wave towards Lunair.

Suprisingly, Lunair is quiet. She could almost Vulcan meld with the furniture, even. Aww. A relationship. How sweet! But she does look briefly startled by Jean's appearance. Still, at least these days, she just tenses. She is limited to normal human senses, so she looks puzzled. Still. "Sure thing. I live in the dorms, so I can find you. I hope do to so without resorting to hiding in shrubbery." She's joking about stalking a target. Oh boy. "… there's always so many people hiding in those," She taps her chin with a finger. Oh boy. She has a sense of humour about her occupation and a note that a lot of people do seem really good at spying!

Nevertheless, she pauses at Rose's words. "I dunno. I knew someone who broke up with her boyfriend because he'd dream he was a luchadore and elbow her in his sleep." Owch! She's - very literal. A nod at Rose's questioning headtilt. "Yeah. I'm -" Well. No sense in being dishonest. "… in hiding a teensy while." She looks awkward, face crumpling a bit. "It is a long, strange story and I am still figuring bits of it out, really." Nod. "And I can show it to you both if you like. I think that's okay?" She waves to Jean. Smile. "See you."

There's got to be more to this than Logan knows. Rose and Nate are consenting adults. There shouldn't be any trouble with them sharing a room as long as they know to use protection. Of course, she did just have surgery, but if they were careful, it could work. Trying to prevent them from spending the night together would probably be more detrimental than just allowing them with direction.

He'll make a note of Jean's room, and will probably join her shortly. "Lunair, it was nice seein' you again, and nice meetin' ya Rose, but I think I'm gonna check into my room. Rose, be careful." She could tear those stitches. Though part of him wonders how wise it is to leave them with the booze. Oh well, that's a problem for Cyclops. Funny how Logan thinks that way already.

"You and me both, Lunair." With Jean's departure Rose also takes queue, noting Jean's warning. Back to end of bed. Got it.

Rising she stretches, taking one more pull, downing her soda, and heading for the door as well. "Sometimes though, you have to come out and just leave a mark that's lasting." This hiding thing… Rose hates it and even though this is a different world, it is a very akin scenario she is growing weary of. Though part of her now is freed, its the last that will be haunting. "When you do what we do, if it is not one thing, its another."

Salute and she dips out, heading back for her room and eventually ease Nate's mind about them breaking rules here.

Rose didn't care. Conscience cleared!

Nod. "Normally, I kill them until they go away, but they sicked mutant hunters, a Taskmaster and some dart drones on me. It's really getting annoying," A deep frown. "Oh, and regular goons. But those -" Lunair hand waves. "Bullets work on those, yes," She nods. Lunair smiles weakly. "I understand. I'll clean up. Rest well! Be sure to take stuff with you before it gets cleaned up." Otherwise, she returns the salute neatly and sets about cleaning. No booze for Lunair. It would end in nudity, explosions and dancing. Likely.

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