Sir Sean Connery Competition

January 05, 2017:

The faculty have a quiet night in at the Mansion.

Xavier Institute


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Cyclops


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The Xavier's Institute's lay out is something most have to grow familiar with, it took Remy some time the only instances he'd ever been in a place this big before he became familiar with the X-Men all those years ago was a wealthy mark's home, now he practically lives here. Or at least outside safely out of the walls on the grounds down by Breakstone Lake, close enough. The first floor of the mansion itself consists of the main entrance, foyer or atrium, a large spacious kitchen with marble tops, an expansive dining room that could be a cafeteria (and has been in the past), a large library and many informal sitting rooms. It is one of these sitting rooms that Storm and Remy are hanging out in, the curtains wide open, the light snow outside being enjoyed and the ground level balcony that leads out a step away, the breeze inside the room is frigid if you ask the Cajun, which is also why he hasn't taken off his jacket, the scarf or any of his additional layers. If Ororo insists on keeping the balcony doors open right now, he insists on smoking, even after being told to dowse it twice.

"It jus' so cold, ears aren't working right, Ororo." Remy LeBeau assures the X-Men leader.

The influx of X-Men, students returning from homes, all of it is fast approaching and soon, this is some of the last few days of silence the senior X-Men and residents will get to enjoy for some time.

The kids will be returning soon, and in this instance the teachings that Storm would be given out in the garden are sequestered to the indoor greenhouse - New York winters are harsh.

The morning and most of the afternoon had been bringing in large bags of stored soil from the garage to the attached Green Room. Heavy work, hard work, but invigorating to Storm even in the silence. It gave her time to think and gain relief in the form of aching muscles.

Once done it was night, boots covered in dust and dirt treading through the halls although silent, but militant in style where they lace to low on calves. Black cargo pants in a dark camo hang off legs loosely until the cling low on waist by the loop of a leather belt that bears small trinkets to chime lightly with the movement.

Abdomen is bare, the sabled paling skin of the Nubian in winter also smudged and mired, a drag of muddy finger-strokes go from hip down the side of pants in a crust of paling clay. A white midriff tank 'T's at the back between shoulders, grey/brown as well with the days work, mingling with the long fall of wavy white hair that hangs down along one side, showing the bare scalp of the half exposed with the mohawked cut.

Eventually Storm had gathered a hot drink to curl fingerless gloved hands around and join her teammate and add to the ribbing of his deplorable habit by leaving the window open for however long it took to air out the room.

The cold did not phase her, and it showed in the narrowed eyes of silent laughter while lips perched above the rim of the mug. "I am sure we can fix either of the issues. But this does not bother me, in fact I could open another."

…Wait for it!

Rogue felt the chill from the kitchen. She'd gone in there to get a bottle of sweet tea from one of the fridges and the chill from the dining room had immediately hit the southern gal and sent chills through her body. "Wow. What the heck…" She quietly muttered and ducked her head into the dining hall to see the backs of the two of them. She smirked when she saw the jacketed Remy smoking… "Figures." Rogue said out loud and walked further into the room.

The young teacher was wearing a dark green/black flannel shirt and some matching gloves that disappeared into her shirts' rolled up sleeves, a yellow tank top beneath that and some blue jeans and leather boots.
Once at the open space to the outside, she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her own shirt's left breast pocket. "Got a light, Smokey?" She asked Remy with a sly grin, placing her cigarette up between her dark red lips. She'd wanted to quit smoking for a long time… but today wasn't that day, alas.

She glanced at Storm then and spoke past the cig in her lips. "Let me know if ya need any help, Stormy. Ya know I like carryin' heavy things."

Nancy is not accustomed to being a teacher, and even though she is only scheduled to work on the weekends she is trying not to panic about lesson plans. She would be pacing the floor if she stuck to just one room, but the mansion has long hallways that enable her to walk and walk and walk. She flips through sheet music, shaking her head. "No, no. I don't even know how well they play yet. Or what they play. Calm down, Nance. They aren't Juilliard yet. Think high school."

Her heels click down the hallway as she tries not to panic about being a teacher. It's that whole authority figure thing again. Nothing makes her nervous like responsibility. Nancy pauses and sniffs at the air. She follows the scent of the smoke and sees familiar faces. Taking this moment to get her mind off her troubles, she enters the room. "When did Charles start letting us smoke in the mansion," she asks with an arched brow and a shake of her head. "Guess I'm not the bad girl on campus no more."

With his last class of the day complete, Logan had made his way out to the garage to work on his motorcycle. It needed some maintenance after last night's incident with the bipedal albino gorilla with the ray gun and the English accent. This meant he had removed his flannel shirt, setting it down on somebody's Mazda. It was probably Scott's. He nearly always used Scott's car as a shelf.

As he performed the maintenance, he got some grease on his shirt. But he kept at it, taking it apart, and fixing what needed to be worked on. He had to change out some parts too. Thankfully, he kept a steady supply of parts for just such an occasion.

When he was finally satisfied, took it for a test drive, and then brought it back to the garage, he went to his secret freezer, getting a tallboy of Molson's, slung his flannel shirt over his shoulder, and made his towards the front of the mansion. Along the way, he noted the grease stain, and so he had to set the shirt and beer down on a nearby bench. Instead of removing his shirt like any sane person, Logan just ripped it. It was ruined by the grease stain, and that was never going to come out.

Then he threw on the flannel shirt and began to button it up. He didn't care that he had an audience. The undershirt would soon find its way into the trash, and the beer can was popped. Hearing Nancy's question, he grinned, "there are rules, but only fer some of us." And he pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket, a lighter from his jeans, and took a puff. He then held out the lighter for Rogue, "that's a nasty habit." He knew it was bad, but then, his lungs were in better shape than any of them. It really was a case of do as I say, not as I do.

Remy grins one of those grins at Storm, "We at an impasse, Ororo. You 'not likely to close dat and I jus' as likely to put dis out while you got it there." A pause, the lean, wild haired thief glances over his shoulder at Rogue, something seems off, a hitch, like Deja Vu, a memory that isn't a memory?

"Looks like I'm not so lonesome in this filthy habit." A flick of the cigarette and he offers up a bic for Anna-Marie, "There you go, chere." He swears he has never seen her smoke before but has she? "This weather, it doin' funny things to my head lately." Like see'n ghosts." That second portion at Nancy.

A cool, "He doesn't." Escapes Remy. "Wolverine." An offered greet in the same breath.

Remy's confusion is short lived, the changes happening are adapted to by either his mind or simply the fact time, reality, fate, they want to happen. They shift things in to place and where there are gaps, they fill in somehow. As far as he is aware Logan has been here, Nancy just returned from wherever and Rogue, she's been here? He remembers some heartbreak and anger over her being shipped to Moira's but maybe she'd been back? It'll sort. He's easy-going like that.

"Guess we gonna need a new teachers lounge, one dat allow smokin' these days."

A large open balcony window/door can handle one and she was trying to do tit for tat and freeze the Louisianan from his habit and force him to put it out in order to get warmth. It was not meant to be a welcome to turn this room into a smoking lounge. Rogue's voice has Storm coming to a still, ne that seems to bring a sudden suffocating abruptness, even the doors breeze ceased.

Off? Storm was called in because Xavier was at Moira's nursing a sick… teammate. Wasn't that Rogue? Or perhaps -a- rogue mutant? None the less when others joined, a chorus of mutiny seemed to sound and lighters flicked as if during a ballad that wind picked back up. A sudden gust to out lighters before more can be lit and sling additional doors open with a rattle as the shutters met walls. A cyclone of air meant to give a hint and stop the fun and games.

"I'll be sure to add it to the bottom of my pile of things to speak to Charles about." If/when the smoking is outed those doors will blow closed, if not then it stays wintery in climate.

The only movement from Storm in her moment of mental resetting is a sip of her cup as she tucks legs up beneath her and smiles towards Rogue. "Todays work is done, but tomorrow is a new day. We have a week until the children who went home return and lots to do."

Logan is given a slight nod and a flick of a finger aside her nose silently informing him of a missed "spot".

"Now now, Nancy, let's not have to make a chart for ourselves as well." Aside from the moment had, Storm is still remaining as calm as ever, and the smile even tells of the light jest.

Nan chuckles at Remy's comment about her being a ghost. "Missed you too, smooth talker," she says with a wink. "You know, if everyone else here is gonna be smoking, I shoulda brought my vape. Now I have to put up with all your nasty carcinogenic nonsense." She waves a hand in front of her face and sticks out a tongue. She wears her usual black ensemble, lace and leather, satin and mesh. The colour de jour is a ruby red, streaks of it in her hair and showing in the satin blouse under the leather corset. She shivers at the cold and has to chuckle over to the snow haired Goddess. "Or I'll just stick to vaping outside. Cause damn! It's cold enough in here that I'm sure that there are metal simians holding their groins and mourning their loss."

Rogue had been quiet since she'd been at the mansion. Since this was her first year of teaching she was just giving everyone the excuse that she'd been 'preparing for it'. Most of her time had been spent in her room by herself ACTUALLY preparing for it too… She was the French teacher and she wanted to have 'fun lessons' for her students and to make them modern and interactive with devices like the smart phones that everyone had their faces always jammed into these days.

The southern gal saw both of the men brandish lighting-sources and it made her crack a grin. She eyed Logan when he appeared outta nowhere and then Remy and his bic-lighter. "I love it when two men wanna fight ove'ah me." She said with a grin at them both. But it was Storm's response to all the smoking that made Marie think twice. "Maaaybe… I'll just save this cig for late'ah though." She plucked it out of her lips and slipped it back into her shirt pocket. Eyeing Logan she grinned at him. "If I eve'ah get any nasty side effects from cigarettes. I'll just give you a big smooch'n be right as rain again."

Rogue grinned at Nancy and nodded at her. "It is pretty darn cold though. I'mma have to dig that heat blanket outta the closet tonight, I think."

"Cajun," Logan says in greeting. "Not a bad idea about the lounge." It was easy enough to set up a ventilated smoking area. They had them in all the airports these days. Though, Logan wasn't too keen on airports. He always had to get a pat down, though he did have the documentation to prove he was a war veteran, and had a number of metal pins in his body… like in every single bone.

He nodded to Ororo, someone he had the utmost respect for. By now, he had the flannel shirt on, not that the cold bothered him. This was a man who had withstood storms in the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. New York had nothing on that. In fact, he was drinking in these temperatures, something that decreased his body temperature.

He smirked at Rogue's solution, "you gotta point about that, Rogue." Draining his powers would be like getting a health pick me up in a video game. Instant healing to full status. And then, when Rogue complained about the gold, Logan began unbuttoning the flannel shirt so that he could drape it over Rogue. "Before you say anything, cold doesn't bother me." It really doesn't. He spent six months under a glacier once… that was hell. But he survived.

This would be the perfect point for Scott to come out and say in a dismissive tone, 'I see you managed to get your shirt off', but alas, it was not to be.

"Or bes' we just up an' quit. Best while de children 'round anyways." Remy says quietly, more to himself than the rest. He did quit for a bit. Back before the Apocalypse scenario he was chewing a lot of gum and toothpicks.
Putting his cigarette out, he tucks it away, putting it back in his pack. "So, real question, we all here on the team?" He doesn't beat around the bush in front of Nancy, she has been in the thick. She was around when Graydon Creed's speeches were inspiring bomber attacks, she was there right beside him tangling with 'Brotherhood' sorts, still yet proven if they were or were not part of that crew. Most of the X-Men are under the belief it was separate groups of Brotherhood back then.

"Plus, you wanna show off that Sean Connery level chest warmer, homme." Remy quips at Logan with a renewed grin.

Storm had simply adjusted her seating to not look at any of them, even as the doors slowly click shut to seal off the winter as the smoke had dissipated. In fact, elbow was propped upon the back of the couch and her hand not holding the mug was splayed over her face, a single finger tapping the centre of forehead just above the bridge of her nose while eyes remain closed.

The tap stops with Remy's question. A very good one, considering the roster is erasing and rewriting itself and things are changing even as they breathe, and it is like inhaling a dream and exhaling the reality to words. "That is not something I have officially asked Nancy, here, but given her past." A tilt of her head and now those blue eyes level on Rogue and Logan with a lightly arched brow.

Rogue accepted the flannel shirt from Logan and she smiled at him, once it was on her she looked from one shoulder to the other. "Why the hell are men's clothin' like… ten times heavier'n what we get? This is practically a damn jacket…" She huffed quietly then and looked up to smile at the History teacher. "Thanks." She said at him before glancing at Remy. "Time to quit, maybe is right. I don't wanna be a poor influence afte'ahall." It was true, she was trying to be more mature these days… trying to let go of her youthful rebellous ways.

The southern gal regarded Nancy then, lifted up her bottle of tea and took a sip from it. "When can I bum guitar lessons off'a ya anyway?" She asked the music teacher. "Wait, do ya even play the guitar? I guess thats vitally important information. huh?"

Scott may not be here to grumble at Logan for having his shirt off, but Nancy is here. She lecherously eyes the history teacher then looks over to Marie to waggle her brows meaningfully. She leans then on the back of Remy's couch, her sheet music still in one hand. "Well, let's see, I'm good if we go against mutants, but other than that it's guns or fists for me, and last I heard, guns are a no no. Even if I have them on the non-lethal setting. So it's really up to you if you think you can use me."

The goth looks to Ororo, much the same expression of respect on her features towards the senior member of the team/staff. She nods her head, letting her know that she's up for the task. "Besides, I look damn fine in skin tight clothing. I should know, half my wardrobe fits that description." She waggles her brows suggestively to the Cajun. "And yes, Marie. I have my degree in string instruments. I'm not as good at guitar as say cello or violin, but I get by."

"Sir Sean Connery ain't got nothin' on me," Logan replied to Remy, before nodding his head in the affirmative, "this team, that team, the other team, I'm in." After all, last night he was in Metropolis. Tonight he's in New York. Tomorrow, he'll probably be in Madripoor, London, or Genosha. "You need me, I'll be there." This place, this school, it was more than just a team, more than just a school. It was family. It was sacred to him.

With Rogue wearing the flannel shirt, he nodded his head. "Looks good on you, Rogue. Why don't you keep it?" He then moved over towards one of the vacant chairs and took a seat. He set his tallboy of Molson's Canadian on a coaster, he wasn't completely without social skills, and relaxed in the leather. It felt good against his skin. "

Turning his head to regard Nancy, who had been lecherously eyeing him up, he explained, "Guns don't have non-lethal settings, but you can aim fer incapacitation. If you really wanna learn ta fight," he looked to Remy and Ororo, "we can teach you." Any one of them could teach her to handle herself in a fight. It wouldn't happen overnight, it wouldn't happen at all if she wasn't dedicated, but it could happen with practice and perseverance.

"Sure Storm or one of the others can always find a use, chere." Remy replies to Nancy, "An they all going to tell you de same ting they tell me, it not about what you up against, it what you stand for." A slight smile this time and the Cajun draws his scarf closer to his chest, "Clearly, homme." He replies to Logan. A low chuckle is given to Nancy. "Like I say earlier, we be seein'. We be seein'."

A nod, "This place 'ere all about the teaching, fighting an easy one, getting away from fighting an look'n good at it? Well dat an even easier one."

"There are means. I have read files of some past, perhaps present members." A pause and Storm looks towards Rogue, the small smile remaining. "Time and places. Just know restraint and we will help you with the rest. That's the easy part." Then she looks at Nancy and the hand that was once on her face shifts between Remy and Logan.

"When we go public we simply need to keep certain things secret, and keep what we d all about their futures, and as faculty here… It is closer to home for us. Are you ready for that, as well, X-Men?"

Rogue nodded her head slowly and softly to Nancy, offering the music teacher a small smile of understanding. "Oh. Okay." She added quietly as well. "My aunt used t'try'n get me to play the piano all the time too… she was a teache'ah of it to the kids in the town where I grew up. At the time I used t'think it was torture, but now… I kinda miss it'n… regret how I fought her on it." Another sip of her tea was taken, she wasn't entirley sure why she just blurted that all out to these people that probably didn't really wanna hear a little story all that much…

Rogue listened to the talk about guns and ethics her eyes narrowed. "Why -don't- we have stun guns'n such anyway? Seems like that'd help a lot." She immediately felt a little dumb for having asked that question, due there likely being a very good reason why they didn't, she just wasn't privvy to it.

Rogue tugged on the shirt that she had on like a jacket and she smiled happily and took another sip of her sweet tea.

Nancy makes a face at Logan. "No, earth guns don't have a non-lethal setting. Laser pistols that are gifts from alien princesses, however do. And the fighting I'm okay with. Still, I'm better at my cello. Music comes naturally. Fighting I have to keep working at to be decent." Logan may notice that he isn't the only one that gets Nancy's lecherous gaze. Remy too gets the once over, until he mentions what she stands for. The goth grows serious then and nods her head. "You know what I stand for."

The Cajun teasing the Canadian gets Nancy to smile, giving Remy a poke and a smile. But Storm makes a good point. "Hey, I don't worry about my identity for my sake. But there is no way someone is going to use knowing who I am to hurt the kids here. So, if that means I have to keep things secret, I guess I should be grateful I have you guys to share my secrets with then, huh?"

Nancy looks to Marie, nodding her chin up. "Probably cause human tech doesn't make 'em. I don't think Xavier likes us relying on things that are outside of ourselves and our abilities."

Logan nods in agreement with Remy and Ororo. She was a leader, and he liked that. Oh, a number of them could lead, but she was leading. And he knew all about how important it was to have one voice, one leader, and the rest to follow, contributing, but not interfering.

There was a reason, for all the grief he gave Scott, and he really did love giving him grief, he never stepped over the line. Especially in battle. He was a soldier. He knew his role.

"Yeah, Ororo, I can wear the mask…" That was the biggest issue with him. He had gotten used to the uniform, the yellow spandex, but he was just as likely to throw down while wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt.

"Guns have a nasty habit of being final. There ain't no middle ground with them. The Cajun here can use his powers to cause a distraction, ta blind someone, or to knock 'em over, without killing 'em. Ororo can use the weather t' do the same thing. Yer strength, you're getting better with all the time, and I know how to use my claws. With a gun, it's instant, it's finale, and there's no margin fer error at all. Plus, it never plays well on DBC."

"I know Earth guns." He raises a hand, "That stuff outta Science-Fiction, not so much. Personally, I've never trusted 'em." He's never liked any gun that he couldn't haul through a swamp and still be certain would fire. If he's going to risk a life on a gun, it had better work.

"You got a Trekkie Phaser, Nancy? Dat kinda cool." Remy says, a bit of nerd showing out only briefly. The poke and smile gets another low chuckle but he's cold damnit. Storm was intentionally torturing him for smoking and likely the rest of them too, she's subtle like that. He'll heat up soon enough. "Just curious was all, I know the teams going to be buys and I promised the lady here I'd play my best hand. Keep her company until Charles clears Scott for leadership again." He doesn't add an 'if' in there.

A sidelong look at all the rest gathered, his eyes lingering on Rogue as if he's still trying to parse her out, "We touch all that in the Danger Room later, this just some chit chat an' some curiosity."

"You are all right. No true leader who wants nothing but peace will put trust in anything but his own deeds, mind, and those of his friends and family." A look to each in kind from Storm and she smiles warmly. "Abilities do not make us who we truly are, because stripped of them we will still fight as we can and should based on heart and words from it, sometimes. But when all else fails," a slow exhale and the smile drops a bit. 'We do what we must."

"You all can do it. If I haven't seen it, I have faith in it, because I have faith in Charles' decisions as well as my own and yours - the looks and tones you all have right now on the matter." Nancy's righting in posture, Logan's resolve, Rogue's inquiries to delve further.

"I am sure you all have seen and heard of the cocoons that came after," A pause and brows furrow. "Apocalypse." A glance cast and then held upon each with a new resolve and solidity in her words.

"With new help," A smile to Nancy. "We have a place from who comes from them, to help them. The numbers rise and our space is limited, and right now I am hesitant to approach the Morlocks after the past… But that may even come to pass."

"In a few days time I am hoping to go once again and gather those still asleep as we track down their locations with Cypher's assistance and show them home as well. We'd do so as X-Men, and as peacefully as possible."

Yeah, Marie felt pretty dumb for asking that question now and she just gently dipped her chin a couple times to each one of them as they explained the answer to her, but she didn't press it any further than that. She showed a faint smile then and bit down on her lower lip in quiet internal thought, admonishing herself for being a dumby in front of her peers who were all… well… people she looked up to, Nancy even who she'd only known for about twenty-something hours now, had Rogue's respect already too.

Rogue quietly sat herself down on the edge of a chair and held her tea bottle between her jeans-covered knees in the grasp of her green-gloved hands and she listened to everything that Storm said, she rubbed her dark red lips together and then nodded. "I just wanna help." She quietly said. "Just tell me what to do… I'll get it done." Her deeply accented southern voice was quiet and soft.

Nancy grins to Remy and leans in to softly murmur. "Maybe if you ask really nicely, I'll even let you play with it." She can't help but chuckle as she teases and leans back. "Seriously though, Logan, I know that they aren't something that is kinda frowned upon around here. So, I'm good with just making with the mojo and the witty banter."

As Storm mentions Apocalypse, Nancy winces. She might have been able to help or not. "Sorry. I should have been here. But I am now. And if you need any of the facilities of the Nest, well, I already told you that everything I have is here to help. Powers, music and 100 acre farms for mutants that want to be normal." She offers a salute to Ororo, teasing but still heartfelt.

Speeches didn't motive Logan much these days. He'd heard so many of them before. He'd given so many of them before. But Ororo's was a nice one, and he knocked on the table next to his chair after she had finished, showing his appreciation and agreement. He also took another sip from his tallboy, but that probably didn't take much of a shine off of it, did it?

Sensing Rogue's reaction, he added, "it was a good question. Always good to question authority." He then turned to Ororo, and gave her a wry grin. She was in for trouble, though probably less than the last person to hold her position. "I know a little bit about that subject…"

To Nancy, he nods "yeah, they are…" in agreement. He's used many guns in his time, but he's never been a fan. But, there's always been something romantic about the notion of a lone warrior, weaving into battle, taking it hand to hand, while others try to stop him from afar. Maybe he was a masochist, or some other term. He wasn't sure, but guns, they just always seemed so uncivilised. Give him his claws, or a Japanese sword, and he's happy.

"I got three hungry mouths needin' me, dey get squirrely when I don't feed 'em on time." Remy's cats of course, Oliver, Lucifer and Figaro. "Am sure we call catch up real soon an' play wit eachothers toys." A wink. A glance at Storm, "You know me, ma chere, I be there when you callin'." Hitching his jacket collar high and his scarf tighter around his mouth he prepares to make the trek out to his boathouse, "Nancy, good you back. Rogue, you lookin' sweet as always an' Logan… maybe you be keep'n your shirt on next time. I know it hard to keep clothes on around me, but have some willpower, mon ami." A fistbump in to the shoulder of the brawny Canadian and the thief slips out of the mansion and in to the cold Westchester air.

Storm just lets out a long and low snort at Remy's adieu. Her head even rolls back with those cerulean eyes while lids close and her head shakes. The smile cannot help itself but appear as she looks between them all and plucks her mug from her lap before rising and stopping beside Rogue with her self-admonishment.

"Question everything and do nothing you'll regret." The fingerless gloved hand rests on Rogues heavily flannel clad shoulder, squeezing lightly. "If you did not regret asking, keep smiling." There was no fear in the contact, there were barriers, but even then Storm did not hesitate or show sign of desire to withdrawal until she was damn good and ready.

She was at the mention of playing with each others toys. Nancy, Gambit and Logan get a look, then to Rogue and she just lowers her head with a sigh of defeat. "I am in for hell. Don't make me Prohibition all your toys for the safety of these walls." A wave of hand over shoulder before it smeared down her face and Storm exited as quickly as possible.

Take that as you will…

Rogue softly nodded her head to Logan's reassurance that she hadn't asked a dumb question, it made her smile a little but she didn't reply to it. She took another sip of her tea and then watched as the Cajun rose up and went to leave. His comments toward her got a grin to show on her lips… but she didn't respond to him either.

The southern belle, however, did look to Storm when she felt the woman's touch and she listened to her advice which brought a larger smile to her red painted lips. After a second of thought she nodded a little once. "I generally don't do nothin' unless there's gonna be a healthy amount'a guilt the next mornin'…" She showed a subtle grin and got up to her feet as well and walked to Logan where she draped his shirt back across him. "Thanks for heatin' me up, fuzzy." She said at the History teacher. "I left somethin' in your desk afte'ah ya left by the way." And with that the girl moved toward the main foyer, intending to go up to her room.

Nancy winks to Remy, watching him go. It's not hard to figure out what she is thinking about. But she shakes her head as he leaves and looks over to Marie. "Hicks Bozon. I'm telling you," says the goth in reference to an earlier conversation. When Ororo gives her and the boys a look for being their usual incorrigible selves, she can only shrug and try to look innocent. "You would worry if I acted any different," she says unapologetically. "I promise that I'm all talk and no action. Unless you are hiding a particular thermal physicist somewhere."

Logan shakes his head at Remy's comment, but he's smiling and has no problem with the fistbump. He was in a jocular mood, as he called out, "sorry, I can't help it wit' that cologne o' yours, Cajun." He gives a soft wave to Ororo, "have a nice night, Storm."

When the shirt is returned, he'll get up. He would have put it on while seated, but that would have been very difficult, so he took the easier route. The comment about the thing in his office had him wondering, but there would be time for that. "Night, Rogue." Seemed everyone was heading out.

He didn't seem to understand what Nancy was talking about, but he was no scientist. Still standing, he gave his tallboy a shake. It was empty. It would soon join his ruined white shirt in the trash. With everyone else leaving, he decided to go see what was left in his desk. If it was some kind of practical joke, he wouldn't be amused. Looking to Nancy, he said, "have a nice night." And he too headed off…

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