A Coordinated Merchandising Plan

August 23, 2014: Roberto goes to get his shots and talk to Kurt and Hank about what he's setting up in New York

Xavier Institute Infirmary



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Mood Music:

In the infirmary, Sunspot takes a seat and rolls up one of the sleeves of his button-up shirt. He showed up early in the afternoon, knowing that he had other business to attend to, but getting himself innoculated against the HYDRA virus seems like an especially high priority now that people are bringing samples of the stuff to his building. "I don't have to, like, activate my powers or anything to make it work, do I?" he asks. "I mean, I've had plenty of vaccines, but never a mutant-specific one…"


Beast doesn't usually bother with the Infirmary, but if that's where Roberto wanted the innoculation, so be it. At least all the other items he needs are right at hand. Hank's grabbed an alcohol swap and begins swabbing the spot for the needle, "No…no need for that. It might itch or be sore for a couple of days, but it shouldn't affect any powers."


Kurt already had his, and isn't about to go through it again. Instead, the fuzzy blue elf is carrying a bit of equipment that had been in the lab not longer than a day or so ago. Upon his shoulder, a grumpy looking bamf sits looking a little dejected. "Mein freund, I believe this is yours," he begins, and with a yellow-eyed glance up to the smaller version of himself, brows rise, "Und an apology will be forthcoming."


"A real one."


Roberto extends his arm for the jab, forcing himself to relax — but just then, Kurt enters the room. "Olá, Kurt," he greets the German with a smile. "Just the elf I was looking for." He glances at the bamf, then amends, "I mean… not the little one. But I did want to talk to you and Hank about what I've been up to in New York." He's distracted by the new arrivals and behaving in his easy, social mode: it's a perfect opportunity to sneak up on him with the needle before he knows what's going on.


Beast does take the opportunity, while Roberto is distracted, to give the injection. It only takes a second or two and a cotton swab is then pressed into the injection site while the needle is properly disposed of. As Kurt comes in with the piece of Lab equipment, he doesn't comment just yet. Once he is done, however, he begins, speaking to the Bamf, "You do know why I'm blue, don't you? Because I EAT Blue creatures who get into other people's stuff!" He turns then, at the most dramatic moment of the statement, snarling, and baring sharp teeth at the Bamf on Kurt's shoulder.


"Guten Tag, mein freund," Kurt's head quirks in askance, though he does offer a sympathetic wince at the injection. Never pleasant. "Dr. McCoy is good. Even made sure that it wouldn't do anything to my… unique set of DNA." Nothing like mixing mutant with demon!

The bamf looks pleased for a moment when he thinks that Sunspot was looking for him before he grumbles at being mistaken. "Hrmf.." So they can say something other than 'bamf' and 'whiskey'? (Or Illy or Tally?) It's when the Beast comes at him that those little yellow eyes widen, and he's gone in a smaller but no less brimstone-filled bamf!, leaving Kurt holding the equipment.

Kurt exhales in a soft sigh and sets it down on one of the tables. "They'll be asking me next why I am blue."

Turning upon Sunspot now, Kurt's back in the conversation. "Yes, please. I have been reading the papers."


'Berto is about to comment on his doctor's sneakiness when his eyes go wide at the display of aggression from Hank. He's just glad it's directed away from him. He presses the swab into the crook of his own arm, flexing his fingers gently, and says in a voice he hopes is calming, "We've brought in a technology consultant who has created some sniffers that can identify the dispersal devices used in Syria. They should make us much more efficient at searching for more before they can be used." Start with the good news! Less snarling that way!


Beast sets his shoulders with a little chuff, "Tell them that you eat misbehaving Bamfs." Maybe they'll spread the word and they'll stop taking things…especially his lab equipment. Taking the stuff from Kurt, he sets it on a counter, "Thanks for returning it." Turning back to 'Berto, he lifts a bushy eyebrow, "Technology consultant?"


"A technology consultant?" Kurt turns about and hops up onto the table, perching there. "Gut. I am glad. Anything to make it easier."

A chuckle sounds and Kurt shakes his head at Beast. "They would not believe something like that, mein freund." Never in a million years. Ever.


"Sim." That's Portuguese for 'yes,' not short for 'Simon.' "A mutant from M-Town — Bobby Drake's roommate? His name is Mike Drakos. He also built my car." He's undoubtedly referring to the silver speed machine parked outside the mansion. Farther outside it than the time Talia jumped on it, though.

But it's time he stopped dancing around the point. "Actually, a few other alumni and I are opening up sort of a satellite operation," he continues. "Well, a satellite is you'll allow it to be. A group like the X-men, but based in Manhattan, living and working among humans openly. We've already taken on security duties at this festival in M-Town." His lip twists, as he deliberately avoids saying its distasteful name.


There's a brief grunt at the mention of the consultant, but Hank doesn't complain any more about it. It's their choice. However, at the other topic, there's a frown, "What precautions have you taken to insure that you aren't somehow traced or followed back here to the Institute?"


Kurt nods his head, his tail wrapping about his ankles and resting there. "I think I have heard of him, ja. Nice fellow."

The word of a satellite operation, however, brings his expression down. Kurt takes a breath, lets it out, then considers his words. "Do they believe that we do not live openly amongst them? This is our home, ja.. but we are not prisoners in it." He continues, "I am always in the city, und in…" he doesn't like the term any more than anyone else. Chinatown. Little Italy. Mutant Town. "..the city. But, he shrugs. "Perceptions, mein freund. We do live in the real world. I walk the streets as I am. Sometimes I am harassed, sometimes stared at, but I am never afraid."

The security detail, however, makes the fuzzy blue elf smile. "It is fitting. Their protectors."


"Well, if you like, we can stop visiting. But I worry you'll go crazy with only the kids around to keep you company," Roberto tells Hank with an amused smile. "Mostly, we would communicate over a secure telecom line. Between Mike and Doug, I feel confident we can set up something safe. If our physical visits are a concern, we can have Illyana take care of them. I pity any jumento who tries to follow us through that."

Kurt's words make the Brazilian sit back and cross his arms, glancing upward thoughtfully. "It's not about isolation so much as separation," he finally says. "Perhaps segregation is the word? The idea is that we would be working very closely with humans. No mutant school or neighborhood. A totally integrated workforce. Doing good in the community, yes, but also just doing normal jobs alongside other people. So many humans don't even think they know any mutants. We would be working to prove otherwise."


"I'm concerned about the kids here and I'm concerned that someone who might be anti-mutant would think that we were a good target," Hank points out. "I want to know what precautions you have in place…I don't expect any immediate response, however." That said, he gathers up his items, "I don't know this Mike and frankly, I don't trust contract workers. Not for things like this." He looks at the two and shakes his head, "I think you've chosen an interesting group to 'integrate'. Make sure they understand what the common goals are." And with that, he steps out of the Infirmary.


Kurt shakes his head quickly, "Do not ever stop coming here." Did he manage to get that out fast enough? "If someone follows you, then we will deal with that then, but never, ever believe you are not welcome, nor encouraged to come home." It is, as far as he's concerned, home.

Watching Beast leave, Kurt exhales, his shoulders slouching. "I will leave it to trust und faith that you all recall what you were taught." It's not a lecture, by any stretch of the imagination. "While I am sad that you are going so far, I think that if you did not feel that you were capable of doing this, we have done you a disservice. Everyone needs to be able to live without fear, to support themselves… und in this, I think the Professor has succeeded. You are a confident man who isn't afraid of the challenges." At the end, Kurt's sitting a little straighter again, and there's something shining in those empty, yellow eyes. "But never forget your home, ja?"


"Very unlikely," Sunspot answers with a wistful smile. "You guys taught us a lot. Can you see 14-year-old Bobby da Costa talking about integration and contracted workers? More like, 'ei, you're racist.' PUNCH." He laughs and shakes his head. "If I forget all that, I'll be in very bad shape indeed."

Growing more serious, he adds, "In fact, we were also thinking of using the name X-men. A new Red Team, perhaps. We can go with 'New Mutants' or something else if there are secrecy concerns, but we thought it would be a good way to tie all of our work together. And an outpost in Manhattan would surely be useful for the other teams, as well."


Kurt chuckles warmly and nods, the tip of his tail twitching. "Then we have done our job here."

The fuzzy blue face echo's the sober mien of Roberto at the question. "As long as you maintain the standards, mein freund. Your face will be the standard by which we are all measured." He's not entirely certain if the true import can be stressed enough. "Anger will be returned with anger, und your actions will be the reflection of us all." He exhales softly and straightens in his perch, settled there on a table in Beast's exam lab.

"Does this mean that we are are just as welcome in your outpost?"


"Of course!" Roberto answers, getting out of the infirmary chair, rolling his sleeve back down, and heading toward the door with Kurt. "We'll have a data center, private motorpool, and some residences, all in the Da Costa building. No Danger Room or hangar or anything, but if you just need a base of operations, you're welcome to it."

As he passes through the door, he nods at the description of the weight on the new team's shoulders. "Yes, and it has occurred to me that we'll also be the face to punch if anyone wants to strike at the idea of a mutant hero team. We'll be on our best behavior, and have a marketing division, to boot." The Brazilian smirks.


Kurt chuckles softly as a bamf brings him from the table to the door. Gone and back, bringing along the brimstone stench along the way. "Ja. But if it comes to that, you know that you will have aid.. because we can be certain you are in the right." A soft whistle sounds at everything lined up, and he can't help but laugh. "Marketing division? If you make bamf plushies, I do want part of the dividend."

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