Racing to Conclusions

April 04, 2014: Four X-ers come together and talk for a while regarding recent events.

Xavier Institute

Staff lounge at the school.



Mood Music:

Afternoon in the manse. Saturday, hours after training sessions, hours before Kurt Wagner has anywhere to go. (It IS Saturday night, after all.)

So, there in a lounge upstairs, a room chock solid of random toys that would suit most interests, the fuzzy blue elf sits perched upon the center of the couch, a controller in his hand, yellow eyes glued to the television set before him. It's a racing game, and the car he's chosen doesn't appear to be doing quite so well, if the RED on the side of the screen showing damaged systems is any indication. Cars are passing him, and he's getting rather.. invested in the game.

"Go! Go.. get out of the way!"


"Uhm. I think those games are supposed to be for the kids," a voice says from the doorway as Hank appears, cleaning his glasses with a chamois cloth. "And even then, they're outside because we sort of don't want them sitting around on their duffs pretending to drive cars." The glasses are put back on his face and golden eyes blink as they refocus. "You know, there are also -real- cars you could drive…"


It's a rare day when a teleporter becomes easy to track down and catch up to. Point to the game he happens to be playing and to the timely and convenient distraction that is conversation, it gives Talia all the time she needs to come -flying into the room- with arms held wide out as she pounces at Kurt from behind, enough momentum built up to neatly pluck the two clean of the furniture and deposit them somewhere out across the floor.

"Ohmigodwhathappenedareyouokay?! The news — you — all over it—!" she blurts out, solid yellow eyes positively -staring- down at the Wagner.

From down the hall there's a cautious, perplexed sounding "Bamf..?" as one of the tiny creatures peers around the corner.


'Go! Go.. get out of the way!'? That sounds like potential trouble and even though Cal was down the hall, he BLINKs in to a spot just behind Hank to see what it is. "Something wrong?" he asks, looking over a blue, furry shoulder.


"If this game logs the damage, I won't even be allowed to take the golf cart out, much less the Blackbird," Kurt offers wryly, his head turning briefly to look in Beast's direction. It's that last glance, however, that sends his car careening into a wall, and the little pixel vehicle begins to roll.. and roll.. and roll.. as the timer ticks.


Ooof! Rollrollrollrollroll..


Kurt looks up from the floor, blinking those glowing yellow eyes into the face of a rather concerned looking daughter. "I'm fine.. I swear. Und, I didn't do anything wrong. I promise. In fact, I saved one of the officers from being shot und killed." He just didn't appreciate it .. at the time. (Or ever.)

"Nothing is wrong!" is called out, "Though, if you could help get a TJ off of me?" Kurt is teasing, of course.. and his tones are affectionate. "I just caused some minor damage to my car on the game."


Hank McCoy jumps nearly a foot and growls as Cal's voice is suddenly over his shoulder. Whirling around, he lashes out with a claw but somehow manages to come just short of actual contact. The hand then curls into a fist with one index finger sticking out and pointed directly at the non-blue one. "Don't…DO that! I almost took your head off." He then turns back to see Talia suddenly there on top of Kurt. "That…just looks wrong," is murmured.


"No, what looks wrong is seeing my other dimensional father posted on the news as being a fugitive!" Talia counters, her head snapping up and over to stare at Hank, instead. "Wrong on so many levels!"

She's still willing to withhold further complaint while she hugs her floored 'father,' which isn't entirely easy to do while she's perched atop of him. "Don't -scare- me like that! God, are we going to have to leave the country and get new identities or something?? -Interpol,- Dad! -And- those SRD goons! We don't exactly blend in with the crowd…"

The digital car can wait, that's what reset buttons are for!


"No, you almost tried to take my head off." Cal corrects, grinning at Hank and then porting into the room so he doesn't have to push by Hank. "Guten tag, Kurt. Hi TJ. I don't think new identities will help much all things considered." A blue mutant by any other name… "But look at the bright side. He didn't rob a bank or anything minor like that."


Hank McCoy grunts at the correction but doesn't argue it. Shifting his shoulders, he then looks back into the lounge, "What are the two of you talking about? Why would you be deported? I would have thought that you'd be a citizen or on some sort of specific visa by now…" and back at Cal, "You do realize that robbing an institution like a Bank is more than likely a felony unless you're stealing pens or something."


Kurt is still on the floor, tackled by his other-dimensional daughter. He gives her the best hug he can, that is, mostly with his tail before he asks again, this time directly to TJ. "Can I get up now?" He -could- bamf, but this is a little more polite. "I had to," he begins again. "The SRD officer was going to be shot, und the last thing I wanted was—" more death. "There was an electrical mutant shooting an area up. The SRD arrived und opened fire on everyone, including those who were trying to contain the problem. In the firefight, one officer was almost shot. I saved him.. bamfed him back out of danger." And high-tailed it out!

The fuzzy elf actually laughs at Calvin's words, and he nods, pointing with his foot at his daughter, adding a clearing of his throat to boot. "Und no. I was never brought back as far as Interpol was concerned." So, nope. No visa. "Though, robbing a bank would be easy…"


"-Minor!-" Talia yelps, now staring at Calvin. "Robbing banks — what on Earth did they have you doing after we had parted ways, Cal? I mean, sure, we had to do some pretty awful things and all, but — "

Voicing the thought helps bring a lot of memories to the forefront of the Wagnerette's mind. Slowly, almost like one carefully trying to pull a Band-Aid off of a hairy leg, she peels herself away from Kurt then comes to stand beside him, offering a hand down. Her other hand contents itself with rubbing at the back of her neck in a fit of embarrassment.

"They're talking about a shootout down by the Manhattan harbor… Sounds like it got really bad." Here a worried glance is passed back to Kurt, her expression becoming easier to read. 'We need to talk later.' Having not come from this reality means that she knows even less about him than would have otherwise been the case. This whole Interpol matter is new to her!

"Oh, don't -even- start," she then snaps back with arms folding together and a narrowing of her eyes at the Bamfer Prime. No robbing banks!


"That was a joke." Cal patiently explains, glancing from Hank to TJ. "An attempt to lighten the mood by understating the issue in comparison to what happened. Which, while we're here, I wouldn't mind the full story of." he adds to Kurt. Pause. "And yes, it would be easy."


Hank McCoy mutters and steps into the room so that he's not blocking the entrance/exit to the room…not that the other three couldn't get around him. "I know the definition of a joke…" harumph. "Brought back? Wait…so you mean you're here illegally and…" and he's easily recognizable. "We should fix that." Just in case, of course. He also glances at Cal and nods, "I'd like to hear this story as well, especially if we're going to suddenly find the FBI or CIA at our doorstep."


Kurt pulls himself up off the floor and 'dusts' himself off before he looks at his friends, his head quirked in confusion. "Which.. story? The electric guy down at the docks? I don't know. I arrived late to see people fighting him. Und then the SRD showed up, und they opened fire on everyone. I managed to save an officer from being shot, und bamfed him to safety."

His tail droops a little, and Kurt looks around, those featureless yellow eyes landing on each. "You didn't think that I would fight them? Did you?"

Or.. is it the story about how he landed here in Westchester so many years ago? Hadn't they been told?


"Your sense of humor could stand to have a little tweaking, Cal."

Here's some more news that is unfamiliar and new to Talia. Kurt's not legally living in this country. Granted, there are much worse offenses, though when Hank suggests fixing it she's in full agreement. Complete with widened eyes and a firm, obvious nodding motion. Nope, she didn't know! Though she's only been a part of this reality for a short span of time. There had been more pressing matters to worry about during most of that time.

"Well there -is- a picture of you holding a pair of swords…" she quietly interjects, not sure whether to be glad that he's okay and still the same guy as ever for rescuing the one soldier or to be ticked that he put himself in harm's way rather than getting the heck away from it all.

Ultimately, she's just glad that he's okay. Yet, is this going to cause more problems for them both? For Xavier's as a whole..?


"Of course not, Kurt." Cal assures the blue elf. "You're not the type to fight the police." In this reality. "So you were just in the wrong spot at the right time. Got it. "Hank's right though. You should get your status here resolved. Not that I'm one to speak since my own is completely forged."


"It wouldn't be such a big deal if you were willing to hide, but you don't and you're easily recognizable. Even though you can't easily be held, actions have repercussions." Hank offers a brief nod to TJ, "Not that everyone needs to be on every government 'Watch list' or something." But then, of course, if they can't be held, they're mutants, and they're very recognizable, does it really matter if they have a social security number? "Just…don't get caught, Kurt."


"Ja, und I was teleporting around the electric mutant so he wouldn't target any civilians. The swords had been dropped by someone else."

And there, the votes of confidence from TJ and Calvin. That brings something of a relieved smile to the elf's face, and he nods slowly. "I am trying not to, mein freund. But, I cannot watch someone get killed if I can prevent it."

Now, however, there is something that needs to be 'out', as it were. Kurt looks to Calvin and Talia and takes a deep breath. "Hank may know this, but you probably do not. Either of you. I have been accused, rightly in one case, of murder. I killed my foster brother by accident. He had killed children in our village in Germany, und I went to stop him. We fought, und…" Now, to recount a story like this, some might lightly 'shrug' as it's been years. "The villagers took a look at me und thought that it was my fault." For obvious reasons. "So, according to Interpol, I am a wanted man. The one who truly did it is dead, by my hand. But the town doesn't believe that."

The upshot? No visa.

"I was found before they could catch me, und…" Kurt offers a half smile, but it's more a sad one that matches those empty yellow eyes, "Here I am?"


Here Talia can simply nod in agreement to Calvin. She's not what one would consider very 'official,' either. Other-reality individuals become fairly difficult to place.

To Hank, she says all matter-of-fact-like: "We shouldn't -have- to hide."

Not unless they're somewhere like Gotham, anyway.

"Yeah, don't get caught. I don't want to think of the number of felonies it'd take for us to get you back here."

When Kurt's story is shared with the rest of them, he has her complete attention. It's not long at all before she's got both of her three-fingered hands tightly clasped together in front of her mouth, still as a statue as though playing the part of 'speak no evil.'

Kurt… -Killed- another..?

"I'm gonna go ahead and blame your father for that," she almost whispers in response. Kurt's not a killer! But..well, he is sorta half Neyaphem. The pieces seem to fit together conveniently enough within her mind. Man, when you think you know someone around here… Even so, as a family they stand together.

All of them. Everyone under this roof, as far as she's concerned.

"Whatever happens, we'll get through it," she quietly states. And fully believes.


Cal doesn't look surprised. The Kurt he knew in his own reality had a similar history. "Many of us have blood on our hands, Kurt." Usually accidentally but sometimes not. "You've done more than enough to balance those scales and what more can be asked of you?" It's not really a question. "As for the rest, it's not a bad thing to have the world see that mutants can be heroes too. How else can we build the future everyone here believes is possible?" It's why Mimic gave that interview and never runs from the police or reporters.


"Actions have repercussions," Hank repeats, looking from Kurt to TJ. "None of us here would damn Kurt for trying to protect anyone, whether it be those people at the docks or the people of his village. Sometimes, 'Good' and 'Evil' aren't so clearly defined." He pushes his glasses further up on his nose. "No one's past is perfect. However, 'needing to hide' depends on the reason. If you're hiding because of past discrepencies, then yes. You probably -do- need to hide until those can be cleared up." He's not going to get into not having to hide because of genetic mutations. It's still a personal conflict he's dealing with.


Here is where Talia had been too quick to speak up, looking back to Hank with blank eyes then slowly looking downward and away in silence. What he said is true, she was the one that had automatically jumped to the mutation side of the idea.

Cal's reassurance earns another slight nod from her, attempting a smile though falling short of anything beyond a sad expression. "You really aren't alone." Things that happen in 'those other realities' can be easier to justify within one's own mind. Different places, ones that seems less 'real' simply because they aren't home. Things got ugly sometimes.

She's got her share of stories she'd rather not tell anyone else. Calvin probably feels the same way.

Here she wanders over to take a seat upon the couch, tucking her feet in close so she can wrap arms and tail around her shins. "Just another day in the life, right?"


Cal moves over to take a seat on one of the couches as well. "That's the point of the school." he agrees. "No one is alone here. We'll always have that to fall back on when things get tough." And they will, one way or another.


Hank McCoy does stay by the door but leans against the wall. He also remains fairly silent in regards to the whole 'no one is alone here' subject being mentioned. He also has his thought on that, but sometimes those thoughts are best left unspoken. "Look at it this way," he finally decides to say, "There is documented proof of a mutant doing good. Stopping evil."


"I refuse to hide my face," Kurt declares and he looks to the others before he returns his attention to Talia, mainly. "I didn't mean to. We were fighting. My intention was not to kill him, even though he'd begged me to do so when we were younger. 'If I ever do something to hurt another, kill me,' he said." It would be so easy to blame something like that on his father, particularly if the intent was there.

The couch looks like a perfect destination, and he flops on the one right next to his daughter. His tail searches out Talia's in order to wrap around. "No one is alone. That's what I have learned." Kurt chuckles, and offers a theatric gasp at Hank's words, "Documented proof we can do good?" He laughs again, his tones a touch lighter as he shifts his attention towards Calvin. Not going to wallow; never has, never will. "I think we're all on the right track. We can keep things on the right side of the balance."


"Always," TJ says in resolute agreement to Calvin's comment.

It's an unspoken thing when Talia's tail entwines itself around Kurt's, like a reassuring, albeit peculiar, hug. Kurt's declaration to never hide brings a more genuine smile to her indigo featured face, dipping her head forward in silent agreement. "You don't need to defend yourself with anyone in this room," she offers in reassurance.

"I just hope that we can continue to help out there without being flagged as previous threats. From what I've read about the Division, I'd much rather not have any dealings with them. Y'know. -Ever.- Maybe we should hang out around Metropolis for a while? I hear they're a lot more laid back about people being a little different in the genes department," she suggests while glancing around to the other three.


"That's not a bad idea." Cal agrees, nodding to TJ. "I've been down there now and then when I hear of something major but it wouldn't hurt to be a real presence in the public eye. It's not like we can be traced back to here even if someone tried." After a moment, he adds "I met Superman and Wonder Woman down there. They seem like decent people."


"I have to get back to work," Hank offers as he pushes himself off of the wall. When it comes to the kids, he knows he needs to show that he's all right with how things are, but it's a lot of pretending that he isn't comfortable doing all the time.

It's also not something he does all the time. "Just don't rob any banks when you're in Metropolis."


It is something of a unique 'hug', the tails entwining. But, it's contact, and the Wagners are nothing if not tactile. Must be something about the fuzz? "Tonight is Saturday night, Hank. Und that means tomorrow morning is Mass." Kurt already knows that Talia knows…

"Metropolis might be an idea, but…" Shaking his head, it's obvious that Kurt doesn't like the idea. It just -feels- like running away and hiding. "I would rather try und help our reputations here. It is easy to be a priest in a monestary, after all."


"Wow, you met those two?" Talia asks Cal, suddenly curious. "That's wicked. I've only just bumped into Spider-Man the one time with you." And ..sorta..possessed him for a time, too.

Mass. Yeah. TJ quietly rubs her palms across her face with that thought fresh in her mind. She's not as devout as Kurt is. Not by a long shot. Some days she'd really just rather not bother with the whole sit-in portion of their following.

"You work too much, Doctor McCoy!" Talia calls back from around her hands as the largest of the fuzzy blue trio takes his leave.

Then Kurt's bringing in religious analogies, prompting a soft groan from the back of her throat. "Yes, I -know- we're going to Mass, Dad…" she mutters. "If we're going to stay in New York then we'll just have to be careful. You can teleport—you -both- can teleport without trouble." She'll just have to make do. Nothing new there!


"See you later, Hank. But if you get the urge to go out, let me know and we'll hit that club again." Cal offers with a grin. "I definitely saw some attractive ladies giving you the eye." And he's not going to Mass. He considers Kurt's words then nods. "Point. Though there's no reason not to do both. Teleporting does have its benefits. "Any time you want a lift, TJ, just ask."


"I'm not religious, Kurt. Sundays are just another day to get things done," Hank points out with a wry sort of smile. TJ gets a simple, "There are a lot of things to get done. Besides, I probably shouldn't be crashing virtual cars, either." The smile fades some as Cal mentions that club, "I'm not entirely sure they were giving me the 'eye' you seem to insinuate they were giving me. I'm not an oddity that they can collect as notches on their bedpost." He offers a nod to the three, "If you all will excuse me…" he's going to go hide in his safe lab now.


"Sundays are a day of rest," comes quickly on Hank's comment. "Und I'll find you after dinner." A grin is tossed in Calvin's direction, followed by a nod. "I saw it too. Ladies really do like the blue fur."

Now, however, it's time to get back to crashing.. er.. driving some race cars on tracks he'll never see in his life. Reaching for the controller, Kurt gestures with it to those remaining. "Race?"


TJ gives Cal two chunky thumbs up to the offer. "I know it, man." Really, her concern is more about what might happen if there isn't someone around to give her a fast lift. If Kurt got in trouble for teleporting one of the SRD, what's she going to get for possessing one of them?


Well, there's always tomorrow for her to mull over that dilemma. A pointed blue tail snakes out and catches a spare controller, drawing it into her hands. "Bring it, you big doof."


Cal chuckles at Hank's reaction but he expected no different. "Well, in that case, I think I'll go bar hopping in the city and see what I can see." Standing, he smiles at the two Wagners. "Have fun kids. But not a sinful amount of fun." He's got that covered.

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