Date Night at Xavier's

June 12, 2014: Hank gives Nancy some good news about her powers and then they finally have that movie date.

Xavier's Institute for the Gifted

In Nancy's dorm room, way on the far side where there isn't anyone else for her to affect and then in the tv room of the mansion.



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Mood Music:

Nancy has been keeping to herself since she arrived. Staying in her room, coming out only when she is sure that she's not going to be noticed (like late at night for a food run to the fridge), she has been keeping hersef entertained with copious amounts of playing her cello. Scales and arpeggios. Forte and piano. Cresendo and diminuendo. She goes through classical and even heavy metal. The halls are filled with her music and only one person, for now, seems to be allowed into the confines behind her bedroom door.

Hank, through his monitoring, will have learned that her field of nothingness does change. While the 10 foot size seems to be the norm, when sleeping or playing her cello, it diminishes down to half, maybe even slightly smaller. It's one of those smaller moments now, as she is playing a melancholy tune, her cello almost sounding like it's crying.

It was important that her power output be monitored for a few days for regularity. Once he had enough data to pass on some more information, he decided to pay Nancy a visit. He pauses upon hearing music playing from the other side of the door and waits until there seems to be a pause in the music to knock.
Looking up from her cello when she finishes the piece and hears the knock, Nancy puts the cello to the side and goes to see who is at the door. It opens a crack and when she sees who it is she manages a smile. "Hey. I was starting to wonder if I needed to sneak into your lab in the middle of the night. You here for date night or just to take some more blood samples?" She opens the door to let him in.

Her room is being kept remarkably tidy, to the point of pristine. With nothing much to do and only a small place to keep clean, her neatness has gone perhaps a little overboard. She offers the chair to Hank and goes to sit on the bed, crossing her bare feet under her. Denim shorts and a plain white t seems to be the dress code for the day.

Hank McCoy remains blue and furry while he stays out of her 'calm' aura…even as he steps into her room. He glances about and moves the chair back…it's easier for him to be one or the other…but not going back and forth. Not yet. "So, I have some test results…no blood samples. I don't know that I'll need more. I mean, you're definitely a mutant. As for other things, well…that's what the testing has been for." Golden eyes look about at the room, "The place looks good." But right, tests.

"When you're asleep, relaxed, or playing your cello, your aura shrinks by half. It's not really surprising. Most mutant powers are closely related to emotions."
Nancy watches as Hank sits in what should be her little sphere of nothing, and yet. As he explains it, she nods. "Okay, that makes… sense. So, that time in the mall, when I got so angry, that would explain why it seemed bigger? I figured it was just my imagination, but it wasn't?" With Hank all furry like this, Nancy seems much more professional, as if the Beast and Hank are two different people in her eyes. She doesn't ask him to sit closer or try to approach him, instead taking a lollipop out of a glass of them by her bedside. "Three left. Need to make more."

Hank McCoy glances towards the door, "You can make more in the kitchen, if you want." He shifts some in the chair, as if it's not the most comfortable seat, "It wasn't your imagination, no. So, one way to control your aura of…negating, is to control your emotions, but it doesn't always work that way. I'm going to try and do a few more tests…not with you sleeping…active tests, to see if we can measure just -how- you do what you do. Then, I think I can probably make some sort of dampener so you can use it at will. Would that work for you?"

Nodding her head, she smiles. "I'll do that tonight. Oh hey, I don't have to use booze to flavour them. Woah… that's going to be new. Oh, and no skulls. This is going to be the weirdest bunch of lollies since my first batch." She pops the milky tea coloured lollipop in her mouth and focuses on Hank, listening to him. "So… stop being a grumpy bitch? Couldn't make it something easy, huh?" She winks with a smirk. She leans back and nods. "I'm putty in your hands, Doc. Test all you like. You want to start now? Or maybe… " She shrugs and looks away, growing somewhat uncomfortable. As her calm from the practice starts to go away, her field grows to its normal size. ".. I was gonna ask if you wanted to watch that movie but… I'll let you off the hook. It was a dumb idea anyway."

"Once I get that dampener, you don't need to be hiding like a recluse. I know most actually like being social." There's a slight sort of grin from him as well then, "I suppose you could try that, but I don't like asking a zebra to change its stripes. Is it possible to be both calm and grumpy? Are you sure that 'grumpy' is really your natural state? I mean, you're not Scott." If she's even met him.

As the field grows, he's going to find himself within it — there isn't much more room to move the chair, really. "The movie…oh, the Disney one? If you'd like." It doesn't take long before he is no longer blue and furry.

Nancy O'Neal can't help but laugh at the comment about Scott. She's been told he's a good leader, but he's just always seemed like a bit of a jerk. Still, jerks aren't a bad thing, perse. After all, she knows she sorta falls in that category herself. She smiles though. "No, I'm not Scott. And, I don't know. I've been grumpy for so long, I don't know if I know how not to be. This last week, as weird as it is… it's been almost nice. No one has yelled at me once. Well, other then Doug getting upset about me playing with his ability to talk. Cause that's just funny as hell." She watches as the blue fur fades away and sighs. There he is. That's the Hank she's started to know. Tall and gangly, his glasses never sitting straight and his brown hair looking tussled like it never saw a comb. She realizes she's staring and looks away, blushing and then clears her throat. "Yeah, if you're gonna refer to yourself as a blue Disney character, then you sorta have to know who Stitch is." She grabs the remote and heads to Netflix, getting the movie.

Hank McCoy runs a hand through his hair, taking a moment to just remember the texture before he tries to straighten his glasses, "It must be scary for him. Doug, I mean. It's one thing when appearances change around you, but he probably didn't know that his means of communication was so linked into his mutation. It must be terrifying suddenly realizing that you can't actually communicate with others. Advanced communication is part of what makes us human."

That said, he looks over as Nancy starts to turn on the movie, "We can watch it on the big television downstairs if you'd like. The room's large…even if folks came in, I don't think they'd be too affected."

Nancy O'Neal looks over at Hank, her brows furrowed as he talks about Doug. "Great, now I feel guilty. I thought I was the buzzkill around here." She considers the offer and shrugs. "If you would rather watch it there, I'm fine with that. Or are you just afraid to be with a girl that's hot for ya in her bedroom. All alone and vulnerable like?" She gives Hank a teasing grin and wriggles her eyebrows at him.

"I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, but…maybe a little empathy would help with some of your anger and mood?" Hank suggests that before clearing his throat. There's a pause before he clears his throat again and sands up, "I think downstairs would be a good idea. The screen is larger…"

Nancy O'Neal sighs and gets off her bed, heading to the door. "Are you a head doctor too? Gonna psychoanalyse me and tell me how I have mommy issues?" She grumbles and shrugs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I've been pushing people away for so long that it's a habit. I'm trying to be nicer. I just slip sometimes." She tilts her head to the hallway. "Yer gonna hafta show me where this other room is. Other then this room and the kitchen and the bathroom, oh, and yer lab, I pretty much have seen nothing of this place. And I get the hint. I'll stop. Just friends, or whatever it is that we are."

"I don't have a degree in psychology, but I've studied it some…" Hank admits, but he gives a slight smirk at that, "I'm not going to analyze you." He moves towards the door and pauses, "I'm very flattered and very suprised. I also see that you look at me differently when I don't look," he looks down at himself, "Like this. While I'm trying to reverse it, I can't guarantee that it'll work. If it doesn't, it's not fair…" he just sort of lets his voice trail off. "I'm projecting my own feelings about it onto you…maybe I'm wrong, but I guess I'm learning a lesson here and I'm not entirely sure I've fully accepted it."

With that obscure thought, he gestures, "Let's just watch the movie, all right?"

Nancy O'Neal considers that as they walk down to the tv room of the mansion. She keeps looking at the place with wide eyed wonder, as trying to figure out how she got here and how anyone can afford a place like this. "You know," she says softly. "I may act different around you when your pink or blue, but you act differently too. You… seem more… happy when you're around me and pink. Not used to someone being around me and being… happy about it. I like it. And could you please stop talking like that? All smart and stuff. Cause it's really distracting." They get to the room and once again find it on Netflix. Nancy sits on the couch, patting the spot beside her. Okay, maybe she isn't totally finished flirting.

Hank McCoy looks like he's about to start talking about the history of the manse, but he hesitates, giving Nancy a chance to speak. "I'm not thrilled that it's my fault that I look like I do. Mostly. I mean, eventually I may have evolved to look like that over a little more time, but I wasn't always. I was vain and probably pretty prejudiced. I think I still am, which is why I think you're a lesson for me. Even what you're saying is a lesson. It's one of the most basic, interpersonal lessons that we need to learn in this day and age."

He's about to go on, but then she asks him to stop talking 'smart'. "I'm sorry? I didn't realize I was speaking in a particular way, it's just…how I talk."

He does sit close enough to remain in her aura, but he still does keep a respectable distance.

Nancy O'Neal doesn't let that distance stay respectable. Nope. It's a movie and it's a date. And it's been a while since she's had just a 'date'. It's sweet in its simplicity and innocence. And so, she sits with her hip touching his, her knees clasped to her chest as the movie unfolds about Experiment 626 and his escapades in Hawaii. Nancy clearly knows this movie well, humming along to the music. Yes, even the Elvis Presley tunes.

It's probably been even longer for Hank and while the innocent touch does cause him to glance down, he doesn't move. She isn't throwing herself at him and she's not unattractive and seems to like him. But only 'pink'. It's definitely something he needs to meditate on.

He does pay attention to the movie, canting his head at some of the faux science brought in, but he does actually seem to be amused by it. There are even a few chuckles that escape.

The movie finally comes to an end and Nancy turns to Hank with a grin. "So, see? When you're blue, you're Stitch. Not just a cute blue teddy bear but all grr argh too. And you know… what you were saying before. It's not that I don't like you blue. You're kinda cute then too. But you said you're not you. So.. I don't really know how to feel about you when your blue. Cause… I like being around you. Even though you make me feel like a total dunce."

"I'm a six-armed alien with an attitude? I've never been surfing…I'm from the midwest." It's meant to be a little joke there. Hank readjusts his glasses and gives a sigh, "To be honest, I don't know what to think of myself right now. Before, I just wanted to get back to this…but now I find I even miss some of the sensations of when I'm…the other. It's a strange dichotomy that I'm not sure I like…or should be feeling. Or if it's something I should strive to embrace." Blue eyes look at her for a moment, "I don't try to make anyone feel like a dunce. I'm sorry about that."

She shakes her head and groans, rolling her eyes at how someone so smart can not get it. "You said that when you're blue, you aren't cuddly. That you're a beast. Wild. Feral. Okay, you don't have six arms, a programmed need to destroy, and you've never gone surfing. It was a metaphor!" Nancy shifts on the couch, kneeling and facing Hank. "I know you don't. And it's not that I feel like a dunce. I just… when you talk like that, I don't really understand half of it and I don't know why but it's really oddly attractive. Apparently I like feeling stupid or something. And I'm sure I'd like you blue just as well if you'd let me meet him. Cause he's just you and I … well, I like you." She takes a deep breath as if trying to decide something and then suddenly leans in to steal a kiss.

Brown eyebrows shoot up as she admits that she finds his language use attractive and that she likes him. The last person he thought was flirting with him turned out to be an android, so he really didn't let it cross his mind. The kiss catches him completely by surprise and there is the beginning of a response before he pulls back and places a hand on Nancy's. "I need to think on this. I'm sorry…I'm not very impulsive…" but he tries to give a smile even as he goes to stand. "I'm not brushing you off. I just…need to think about what this means."

After all, unless he can change things, when he's not around her, he's blue and furry and vanity is no reason to be in any sort of relationship.

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