Mutant Bowl II

February 1, 2015: The X-Men gather for NFL Super Bowl XLIX in the X-Mansion. It is as colorful as expected.

X-Mansion, Westchester County

Xavier's crib.



  • Westchester County Sheriff Tom Corsi
  • X-Men Dance Instructor Stevie Hunter

Mood Music:

Superbowl Sunday at the X-Mansion! Who is invited? All the X-Men, their students (those not home with their parents) and some unexpected guests. Three large rooms worth of televisions, assorted entrees and many many loud noises. The downstairs seems to host the majority of the students and faculty of the non-X-team oriented variety.

The rest - the actual X-Men and the 'special sorts' are upstairs in a master chamber with a flat screen that spans the entire wall. What is going down later today? NFL Super Bowl XLIX, New England Patriots vs the Seattle Seahawks. What is happening right now? A snowed in Sunday. Currently Charles Xavier and Remy LeBeau are upstairs in a rather empty room with a local Westchester Police Officer named Tom Corsi (he is wearing a New England Pats shirt) and a dark skinned woman wearing a pair of yoga pants, dance shoes and a turtleneck sweater. The school's dance instructor Stevie Hunter.

Remy is sprawled half-asleep in a recliner one leg over the arm the other stretched out in front of him. A New Orleans Saints jersey worn (even if they're not in this game and didn't even make it to the playoffs this season). No cigarette fortunately but it's obvious he is craving as a card flips restlessly between his fingers, that same card sometimes turns in to three, two, one, three, one. The sequence breaks up but doesn't slow.

Charles Xavier is sitting before the TV yet not watching it, hands rested easily in his lap. Fingers linked together with eyes closed. Remote viewing? Perhaps. Maybe he is just asleep all creepy and old guy like.

The Xavier Institute is quickly becoming familiar to Logan. This'll be his fourth visit in five days. At least the exterior's becoming familiar. In three of those visits, he never got past the front doors, and the one time he did, he didn't exactly get the warmest of receptions.

But he had made a decision and he was going to try and follow it up. Earlier in the day, Scott had come by Mrs. Olbermann's Bed and Breakfast looking for him. Of course, he wasn't there. He'd gone out into the town, hoping to find a good place to watch the game. Fortunately for Scott, who had waited for him, he came back to his motorcycle for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers hat he kept in the side bag.

He's long been a fan of the team. They were even older than him, founded back in 1879, and he liked their colours, blue and gold. The hat was old and had seen a lot of use. It was a tradition of his to wear it on Grey Cup and Super Bowl days.

It was clear that Scott didn't like him. Cracking a guys jaw would do that, but he didn't seem to let it get to him. Logan had asked the other day about a meeting with Xavier, and Scott was going to supply it. So he arrived at the mansion with the boy scout, and headed on up to the special viewing party. Noting Scott's proximity, maybe he was nervous, but whatever the reason, Logan didn't like it, "Hey slim, you don't have to stand so close to me. This ain't a prisoner exchange."

Elsewhere, there is a surgical procedure taking place. One Rose Wilson is presumably having a very dangerous weapon, a bomb, removed from her brain. That is precisely where Scott Summers would rather be; to hell with the Super Bowl, and to hell with Logan. The Professor could melt the asshole's brain if it came to it.

Still, there was little for him to do in the X-Men base. The surgical procedure was in the good hands of Doctors Grey and McCoy, and Kurt was there to provide emergency teleporting should the bomb happen to tragically go off. Scott had demanded that everyone else leave the base, for their own safety. Far be it for him to be so hypocritical as to remain behind.

Thus, the anxiety is palpable as he shows up with Logan, having gone into town with a purpose that just so happened to take his mind off Wilson's surgery. Upon entering, Scott takes a good, hard look at the Professor. Remy's impressive (boy, that sarcasm sure drips) posture is noted next, but Logan's remark is what ultimately draws him back. "Should it be?" he asks.

The thought crosses his mind; perhaps he's being too hard on the guy.

Moving away, he walks over toward Remy, gesturing toward the Cajun. "Logan? Remy LeBeau."

"Calm yourself and relax, Scott. The bunker will keep this side of the grounds safe, have faith in Jean and Hank." Encouraging words from the Professor that only Scott himself will be hearing. The man still looks like he is comatose or in deep meditation in his chair. Eerie as it is those around him seem to pay it no mind.

Officer Corsi nods to the two men, "Gentlemen." A moustachioed smile given.

A lift up of his shaggy mop and Remy looks from Scott to Logan then leans forward to open up the small fridge near. Two beers are thrown, one for each.
"Pleasure, grab a seat. Dis game not goin' for a few."

Stevie Hunter looks uninterested beyond giving the two a finger-wiggle of a wave. "Do we have to watch the pregame garbage Remy? We still have three hours before the boredom begins…."

"Hey, you wanted to hang out wi' 'de rest of us. You can deal with Remy in control of de remote."

"No," is all Logan says when Scott challenges him whether or not he should feel like he's in the middle of a prison transfer. Once inside the room, Logan takes a quick glance at the wall-sized television screen. "How many hours are they inta the pregame show?"

He likes American Football as much as the next Canadian, but the amount of coverage they give it is a bit ridiculous, especially when you think about how some regular season matches in other sports get eight times the world wide audience as a Super Bowl, like when Manchester United played Manchester City a few years ago in the EPL. That game had a worldwide viewership close to nine hundred million.

Upon being introduced to Remy LeBeau, Logan says sharply, "we've met." And he'll move to shake the Cajun's hand, remembering the Hellfire Club charity event they attended together, "anythin' come with the blonde," he asks, remembering how Emma Frost captivated him while Logan ended up in the kitchen, looking for the Friends of Humanity bombs.

He'll give Officer Corsi a warm smile, "do you think Brady's got another on in him," since the guy's wearing a Patriots sweater. But then he catches a bottle of beer from Remy. Twisting the top, which is not a twist top, Logan will take a swig of it, "thanks Cajun." He'll take a seat in one of the other recliners, acting as if he's a typical guest who's been invited to a party, and ignore Scott's apprehension.

Stevie's disinterest makes him smile and for now, he leaves Xavier to be. The man looks like he's taking a nap, though Logan knows better. He can smell it.

While he's long since become accustomed to hearing Xavier's words in his mind, it never ceases to impress Scott how his words seem to flow and exist, as if they were a part of the room's dialogue itself. There's a chance that the Professor even goes so far as to impress upon the others that a moment or two of silence is warranted, simply so that Scott isn't missing any of the other dialogue. That sort of finesse would be fitting for him. Either way, the words set his mind at ease in a way that not many can.

A look is given toward Charles, paired with a quiet expression of gratitude. He was right, of course. Scott fretting may be one of most polarized traits.

"Officer Corsi." Scott puts a hand out for the officer, smiling warmly. "Glad you decided to join us, and lucky for you that you're off work. It's cold."

Speaking of cold, Scott reaches out with a hand to snatch the beer from the air, displaying a sort of dimensional awareness and reaction time that doesn't just come naturally, and certainly not for a man bound to his glasses. He glances at it, withdraws a set of keys, using a motorcycle key to crack it open, then smirks in Remy's direction. "You sure you're not hiding Bobby back there, somewhere?"

Passing by her as he heads for an unoccupied chair, Scott nods in Stevie's direction. "You'll love the commercials," he quips, before sitting down and taking a long drink of the cold beverage. The fact that Logan and Remy have met is certainly interesting, but being tactful, he elects to simply stay quiet and listen to them for a moment.

"Ah yeah, dat be right, you got kinda roped in to dat like I did." The Cajun grins, would shake Logan's hand but the beer ran interference. Fast hands and all.
"No, Bob ain't allowed 'round the drinks… not after last time. Dat kid's a klutz." Maybe it was intentional, lots of people are clumsy in Remy's opinion, Scott's got some good moves though, he'll give the man that much.

Officer Corsi's friendly appearance remains even at the mention of the cold, "I plan on getting some ice fishing done this week. You much of a fisherman? I've been trying to talk Mr.LeBeau there in to it but all he does is whine about the chill."

Stevie bobs her head at Scott's comment, "That is the only reason I am here and it's keeping me away from the kids. I love them but sometimes… I just want to be around adults and have actual conversations."

"I will be with the two of you shortly, Logan, Scott, we are in need of a conversation, for now just enjoy the company offered. Scott, officer Corsi is aware of much of our activities since the attack last year but not every detail, make sure no one speaks too lightly in front of him. I will keep an open telepathic channel between our team and those who require special attention. Just keep up appearances, Mrs. Hunter likewise knows very little about the actual X-Men." Xavier's psychic voice. Summary is he is keeping the mutants and prospective members on an open telepathic wavelength. One they only have to think about. It'll make for an interesting juggle for newcomers.

It always amazes Logan that people will watch the Super Bowl for the commercials. If he had his way, television would have no commercials. It used to be that way. They had to put them into the program. As he sips his beer, he wistfully remembers the DuMont Network.

Looking at Remy, who's a Saints supporter, he's Canadian, Corsi's rooting for the Pats, and as near as he can tell, Stevie, Scott, and Charles aren't rooting for anyone. "Looks like this is gonna be a Patriot room."

But then Corso brings up fishing, and immediately Logan is interested, asking him about what kind of lure he likes to use, where there's good fishing around here, and a whole host of pertinent questions, but it's a friendly discussion, not an inquisition.

However, his part of the conversation is cut a little short when he hears a voice, an unfamiliar voice, in his head. Logan immediately looks in the direction of Charles Xavier, the only voice he doesn't know. He doesn't like people talking in his head, even if they're benign. He has some rather uncomfortable history with telepaths. They're dead now. He's not.

Longshot seems to have smeared what appears to be some sort of black grease in stripes under his eyes, in keeping with the tribal traditions of this world's gladiatorial sports. Since they are in Massachusetts, he has chosen to support the Patriots, as noted by the tri-corn had sitting atop his head. Beyond that, he's clad in a plain white t-shirt and sweat pants, four-toed feet bare as he vaults over the couch and just barely manages to catch himself short of landing on Gambit, his limbs splaying out to hit armrest and the back so he's just kind of dangling over the Cajun.

"Ah, there you are, Gambit! You are missing the festivities! I am told you like to 'down the brewskis'," he says, then realizes that the cop and Stevie are in the room, along with the Professor, "Hello! I am Longshot! You may have seen me in such things as "Into the Fire" or "Big Al's Ribs 'n' Stuff: BBQlicious!".

He sees the tension in the room, from Logan's expression, although, really, it's Logan, how can you tell? "Did somebody expectorate sulfur? Just blame it on Kurt. I know I do."

Regarding Bobby, Scott's answer is dry, as usual. "He'd be faster if he spent more time practicing." Anyone who's been around the X-Men long enough are bound to roll their eyes. If Scott had its way, every member of Blue Team would spent a minimum eight hours per week in the Danger Room. Fortunately, he lightened up a touch after his thirtieth birthday. "Been that way ever since phys-ed."

"I used to go fishing all the time when I was young," he answers the officer. "Remy, there's nothing like a fresh catch. You really ought to give it a try." To Stevie, he offers a knowing grin. The kids could certainly be a handful. "No rest for the weary."

There is a momentary silence where he observes Xavier's telepathic words. Behind the glasses, his eyes glance toward the man, offering another silent acknowledgement. There is no anxiety where Professor Xavier is concerned; Scott trusts him like a father. Logan, however.

That remark just might have him warming up to the Canucklehead.

"We're close enough to New England," he answers. Scott has played quite a bit of football, enjoyed watching it when he was younger, but in recent years, he simply hasn't given the time to watching the games on television. There are far more important things to do. The pre-game coverage does surprise him with a flash of reverie, and it brings a very little smile to his face. The stiff posture loosens up a bit, and he takes another pull from the bottle while relaxing into his chair.

A cursory look is given toward Longshot, an eyebrow hooked up from beneath his glasses. "That's Logan you're smelling," he quips, before glancing toward the suddenly silent visitor. "What's with the W, 'bub'?"

"Oh mon Dieu! Why me!? If not Kurt jumping at me it de new guy." Remy flail-swats at the air as his beer tilts, almost enough to party foul. Almost.
"Pats, no, dis go around I be for Seahawks. They sayin' the Brady sneak is going to get the defense but I call that bait if I ever seen it. Seattle is accounting for the versatility… "
Longshot gets handed a beer from the rapidly shrinking mini-fridge. Not like this mansion doesn't keep a good stock. "Take it, sit down like you in de house and not out in wherever you come from, merde." Anywhere else in the world Gambit is used to being the guy jumping out and surprising folks. "Fresh catch of the cold, you been outside?" The Cajun fires back at Scott.

Corsi is a pretty enthusiastic fisherman and knows this area damned well. He grew up around here. He can talk a persons ear off when it comes to that particular subject. "Hello uh Longshot, strange name you got there, sir."
"See what I'm talking about? " The policeman fires at Scott, "Man has no balls for the frigid weather."

"And you not gonna have no balls you go out 'n dat." More from Remy! Yeah he hates the winter.

Stevie finally shows some interest and it's aimed right at Longshot's appearance. Starry-eyed? Just a bit she just quit complaining and is now just staring, "Hi." The woman squeaks.

Charles mental link remains but the man is silent. Scott is aware of him enough to know despite the Zen Master approach to things there is some worry in that undertone, there is after all a bomb being defused somewhere, yet it's not tailoring his attitude or mood. Just making him slightly less peace projecting than he normally is.

Longshot snatches the beer out of the air and rolls off the side of the couch, sitting cross-legged across the armrest. "Thank you! It's Miller Time!" He pops the top with an over-sized thumb and casually takes a long swig.

"Ah, Gambit, then you and I are at odds, for I must favor the mighty Patriots. We live near their snowy climbs, I am told that region is very important. Like in the Hunger Games, but fake! Also, Tom Brady will win because he is handsome. The handsome guy always wins," he says, tilting his head to throw a wink at Stevie, "You know what I'm talking about."

Great, between Remy and Longshot, Stevie may actually faint from blood loss at some point.

There's something off about the guy in the tri-colour hat. He doesn't smell right. Not a mutant, not a metahuman, and not a clone. He's something else. An alien? Whatever it is, Logan knows he ain't human, and that's just more evidence to how different this place is.

Whatever he is, Logan will rise to offer a hand to Longshot saying that "the name's Logan. He may be a bit off, but at least he's friendly. Scott's use of the word 'bub' irks him. That's his word. But he's a guest, and he isn't going to start something over a trivial issue like that. "It's a Canadian team," evidently not feeling too talkative after the use of the word 'bub'. Wait, aren't Canadians supposed to be friendly? In fact, license plates in Winnipeg say 'friendly Manitoba.'

He will continue to talk with Corsi about fishing, and be a little surprised that Scott likes it too, "we'll have to go fishin' sometime, and we'll drag Gumbo along too," he adds with a grin.

That accent brings him back. It's been ages since he was in Nawlins. "Qu'est-ce qui vous a amene loin au nord? Vous etes loin de la Nouvelle-Orleans."

"That's why you bundle up," Scott answers Remy, before casting a grin toward Officer Corsi. "You think we can get LeBeau into a Northface Jacket?"

A momentary silence grips him, for another telepathic voice just came to him. A slight wave of exhaustive urgency comes through, along with a twinge of relief. Almost done. The telepathic voice of Jean Grey will be easily recognized by Charles, along with Scott's more directly 'thought' response. Thank goodness.

When Logan introduces himself to Longshot, Scott does the same. "Scott Summers." The cursory glance given earlier becomes something a bit more direct, as if he were studying the man for some reason, but eventually a smile comes to him. "Nice to meet you. Enjoy the beer while it lasts. The way he drinks " A thumb is hooked toward Remy. " someone will need to make a beer run."

Now, Scott's a perceptive one, and he damn near smells the irking coming from Logan at his use of the word, 'bub'. It's yet another remind that, yeah, Scott is probably being too hard on the guy. He does like fishing, after all, and has offered to drag Remy out for some ice fishing. A quiet laugh of irony comes to him, and he jerks a thumb Remy's way again. "Northface Jacket. S'gotta happen." He's mid-wondering whether Logan even gets the joke, when the clawed mutant drops a completely foreign language on the party. Once again, his eyebrow hooks, and he looks between Logan and Remy with a spectator's smirk. You can almost imagine the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"That gon' be how you bet on games from now on Longshot? Most handsome team wins?" Remy will have to start up gambling against the man, this could be an easy swindle. Maybe… what if it turns out true though? "Some healthy competition is always welcome, mon ami."
"First, you best tell me what a Northface Jacket is." The Cajun says before quietly regarding Logan, "Cest est affaire personnelle… I'd like to keep things friendly, catch me?" A smile from the rogue, one that isn't exactly friendly or cruel. Just a smile.

"Work your magic, like I said, the more the merrier. I have a lodge up north just off the lake. Anyone of you guys is welcome, since we're neighbors and all… " Once a cop always a cop and uh still a cop. Corsi wants to get to know them for more than just friendly reasons. This is his district and he has a job to do even if Charles Xavier has been mighty gracious and welcoming even a little on the side of secret forgoing.

Stevie stretches, elegant creature that she is and then sits down near the men, "Longshot… what an interesting name, please, tell me more about you… " Animal magnetism? Unnatural charm? Nope none of those caught the woman's interest but whatever it is Longshot has going on the woman seems to be in to. As soon as she gets comfortable her cellphone is buzzing, "Yes this is Stevie. Mhrm, mhmm, okay, who fell down?" Sigh. "I'll be right down." The phone is slung closed and she pops up gracefully (the woman is a professional dancer after all), "I have to go downstairs. One of the kids was being rowdy and I have to see just how bad her injury is… could ruin her chances at being in the recital, she is pretty upset. You know how teenagers get." A wave and the woman is racing on out past those coming back in. No time for chit-chat.

It hurt, it really fuckin' hurt, her head and the large incision along her spine from the small of her back to 3 inches up. Rose was already mad the red head played those jedi mind tricks on her again without permission, then the migraine ensued, followed by a nose-bleed and getting up with a start so fast that she fell out of the bed and took her aggression out on poor Anne.

After the pain killers and sedatives wore off she apologized, and that only took ten minutes, but her duffel was demanded as her suit… Was not going on right now. Black sports shorts that hung low on hips and fell just beneath the incision, bare abdomen and a midriff tank top bearing the effigy of baseball team scrawl read 'Dangerous' in white across her chest.

No fear, she was not allowed her weapons back yet and they were sure to strip the room of surgery equipment quickly, as well as anything makeshift. Bare feet pad across the floors, the look of narrowed glare framed by the loose fall of white hair, every once in a while reaching out to the wall for balance because the pain killers still knocked her for a loop…

Gimme a hot minute!

But the smell of food, not cafeteria style is what draws her to that room to stand against the door frame and wrinkle her nose a bit as Stevie passes by in haste for exit.

Longshot sips on his drink slowly, watching Remy, Logan and Scott go back and forth between each other. There seems to be a great deal of tension and interplay in regards to winterwear. The inner-workings of human society remained, in many ways, a mystery to him. Stevie, however, gets immediate attention when she asks, "Well, I'm an actor, mostly TV so far but I'd really like to try my hand at the theater. I lead an inter-dimensional rebellion against a grotesque pus-colored overlord. My sign is Vrghflt the Three-Legged Pigeon. I like Italian food and would really, really love to meet Jimmy Fallon. I think he would get me, y'know?" he says.

But, then, Stevie's called away and so he's forced to pay attention to the men talking about their clothes again.

Oh, wait, and then there's another woman to replace Stevie as she's called away! The look on her face would seem to be one of pain and suffering, but her hair is white and that is cool. Especially since she's young. Old people were cool, too, but young people with white hair, he knew, were special. She was probably born to wield a magic sword or something like that. "Hello! Come in! Apparently, we will be going north to be fish with faces!"

And it was a good thing that Jean wasn't there when she woke up. She wasn't going to fight the woman who had every right to be upset with her. Long as she wasn't a ticking time bomb she'll suffer a punch in the face for all of her efforts. Teamwork! In all its glory happened back there, and after a quick shower and a tie of red hair into a bun, she too drew herself across the manse due to the smell of food and the sound of a good time.

There was a press of her against the wall as Stevie sped by, lips bunching up to give a glance backwards and a look forward to see the form of Ravager against the wall. While she could block the receptors of pain that Rose felt for her? She wasn't going to intrude and give it to the girl easy. Nothing, none of it, out of spite.

The pain reminds you that you're alive.

She does walk up and sticks close to the girl, a clearing of her throat is given as she draws in a breath to finally release those words. "I'm sorry."

And there it is, he now has a last name to go with the first one. Cyclops, also known as Scott Summers, Logan made a mental note to remember that. Of course, he hasn't exactly given his last name, or first name, just Logan. But then, that's all he goes by most of the time. As far back as he can remember, he's just been Logan.

The Canadian sat there, beer in one hand, talking with Officer Corsi, Scott, Remy, and Stevie, while the Professor seemed to be having a nap. Scott's joke about Remy and Northface is all but lost on him. It's just a jacket. Where's the humour in that? But any thoughts on the matter are soon dropped when Remy explains that his reasons for being this far from home, and this far north, are of a personal nature. He isn't one to pry.

But then he sensed Rose. She was fresh from surgery. Immediately rising from his seat, leaving his beer on the end table, he went over to the woman, "you all right, darlin'?" He showed genuine care and concern for the stranger. He could smell the blood, the internal organs, as her body tried to knit itself back together again. For him, that was a process of seconds, minutes, maybe hours, but most people weren't quite so lucky.

He'd offer a hand, and try to help guide her to a place where she could sit, if his aide were welcomed. He assumed that Stevie would be able to tend to the child, as that didn't sound like much of an emergency, but the woman in front of him, she had been hurt badly. Elective or not, it was still a major operation.

The exchange between Remy and Logan is watched. A certain Canadian isn't quite out from under the scope yet. The arrival of Rose immediately draws his attention as well, and he moves to stand, leaving the bottle of beer on an end table. However, let's not forget that scope. He watches as Logan reaches her first, and simply remains where he is.

Maybe the guy just rubbed him the wrong way. First encounters, second encounters… third time's a charm?

Remy grins at Longshot and shrugs, "Easy come easy go?" He remarks towards Stevie's quick departure. "She be around, she teaches the school dance. You see her again fo sho." His accent thickens the more he drinks. Then Jean and Rose appear, "Eh, two for one. I approve."

Corsi turns and nods to the women, "Ladies… " His New England shirt being wrung in his hands (he apparently just spilled salsa on it).

Xavier himself is still meditating, no physical signs of activity. He's there though. Scott and Jean know this.

Rose doesn't know these people. They don't know her either, she's a guest here and they helped her. But there are a few things Rose hates, and that is 'touching' of any kind without permission, glossy white enclosed rooms, and people she doesn't know. She's no longer is a glossy white room, given her freedom to roam sans weapons, the grip on her mind gone, she could feel that much…

But that apology from a voice she knows to attach to a nose-bleed seat reaction does not get much from Rose save a quick movement that has her pivoting squarely, just like in a tae-bo kick boxing lesson, rounding out to bring a snap-punch to Jean's jaw. The pivot has to be followed through with, the twist at mid-section tensing the stitched flesh along her spine unless she did, making teeth grind and have her in position to use her other had and place it palm out at Logan to have him stay at arms length, that single narrowed ocular glaring in the quick snaps over the people both met and not, then settling on Logan finally.

"Don't. Touch. Me." A long and low trained exhale outward and she is taking a step back… towards the appetizer table… Chicken wings to be precise, as well as seeing if there will be follow up.

She's cranky and hungry, stubborn is somewhere in there as well.

Longshot looks at Remy for a long moment with his big blue eyes, "I don't know how easy she comes, I only just met her. I'm glad to hear that she's here often. And a dancer! I love to dance!" he says.

But then Logan's pushing himself over to Rose's rescue and Jean comes in and yowie wowie a redhead!

With all these good looking people, he was beginning to see why Mojo had tried to use them to replace him when he decided to lead a revolution to cut his fat head off. Photogenic!

And then Rose goes all Kung Fu Kathy on Jean and Longshot winces. "Yowie wowie!"

Jean saw it coming. She deserved it really. She was practically a bully hiding behind her powers, especially towards Rose, masking it as the greater good when all she could have done was just asked and gained permission. There was no masking nor cheating, she took the hit full on the jaw, her head snapping to the side as she stumbles back towards the wall, one hand holding her mouth as a little yelp (not in surprise, but in pain) snaps forward from lips that soon bleed to the touch.


At least Logan was there to.. no. Rose moved on her own, which left Jean pressing her back against the wall, her body doubling over as one hand covers her face to hide the silly little smile that pains and plagues her features. Yeah. That lady will be fine.

While Logan had intended to help the second Cyclops, the one with the sunnier disposition, her assault on Jean causes him to rethink his actions. For the moment, he forgets about Rose, letting her stagger towards the food. He'd deal with her once he knew that Jean was all right.

A hand reached for her, moving with speed and purpose to try and catch her head from going too far back. He cushioned her strawberry strands of silken hair with his open palm, cradling her as she staggered back. The assault may have drawn blood, but it would not cause a head injury if he had anything to say about it.

He immediately asked, "Jean, are you all right," concern in his voice while he positioned himself to keep an eye on the attacker. That woman had just undergone surgery, she might not be in the right head. But this was not acceptable.

Unconsciously, and without thinking, the hand that wasn't cushioning Jean's head, the one he held in Rose's general direction, had made that snikt noise, revealing one of his claws. He was ready to attack, he just needed a sign, but he was a guest, and he wouldn't do it without proof, more proof than this.

A grimace comes to Scott's face, and he rushes forward from his place at the chair. However, Logan is closer and he…

Well. What did we say about the third time?

A distinctly shocked expression comes to him, which soon falls into something of a scowl. It causes a touch of delay to his reaction when the claw comes out, but after a second, he snaps out of it. "Easy," he says, adopting a strong yet non-threatening tone that he hopes might serve to defuse any further tensions.

"You not the only one from looks." Gambit responds to Longshot.
Yes, that -just- happened, Rose jacked Jean in the chin. This day just gets better, "'eh, Danger Girl you should stick to throwing jello cups." The Cajun's voice rises up though he is curious about the fondness in which Logan treats Jean, that will be amusing come later on.

Officer Corsi on the scene! "Ladies! Everyone please remain calm and step away from one another… " Probably a bit slow on the take but Tom Corsi was staring at a commercial and then day dreaming about fishing.

The Professor's eyes finally open and he glances over, "Rose, do you feel better now? Would someone get Jean some ice." Scott can handle crowd control with the small group if they ignore the Sheriff. The man is after all out of his league here.

The hit landed and that was all she needed. Woosa. All better, that and she has already managed to get a chicken wing pinched between fingers and is taking a bite, watching as Logan sweeps to Jeans aide.

Bite. Rip, slowly fingers are working over the bone of the wing. *Crack*.

"Jean and I are even. You want involved /Edward/? I will stab you in the eye with this chicken bone and even our odds." Rose's voice is even as her head rises from the downward look upon the bone she was breaking into a point, the patched eye partially veiled by white hair while the blue seemed to pierce through to Logan. No, she did not know him, but if you bring a knife to a fist party you're bound to be called the blue ribbon puss. Especially by a Wilson.

Picking up another chicken leg she takes a bite and shoves off from the table, heading for the couch while offering Scott a nod, as well as Gambit. Both she had met albeit briefly, prior. Longshot gets a salute and the man in the wheelchair gets a furrow of brows, but a simple small nod in response. The cop is watched carefully as she slides gingerly into the cushioned seating and rips meat from bone.

"Peachy, when's the halftime commercials?"

Nate steps in just in time to see Jean punched… the hell? And Rose's anger almost burns, too. He moves to intercept the white-haired girl, frowning visibly. "Are you… alright?" Maybe mild, but she has been on the edge the whole time since she got to the mansion. Still, it comes to his mind that if he was in her place maybe he would have handled it worse. "Good enough to punch people, I see," he adds, smirking faintly.

Longshot sips on his beer as he watches blood fly and claws popped and wings getting devoured. The little hairy guy was pawing all over the redhead, which meant he probably had chosen her as his mate. The pointy finger gesture seemed a little much, but Longshot was used to problems being solved by violence. Kind of a waste without a camera to catch it, though. How do you know if you won unless the fans at home vote now, using the mojotag #urwinner?

Then suddenly Nate is there and Longshot backflips off the couch, landing on his bare, four-toed feet, "What the…? Are there secret panels in here, Professor? Is one of us going to be murdered any second now, when the lights go out? I am unarmed and have no personal grudges against any of you, which indicates I am probably the detective. I didn't even have time to grow or wax a mustache!"

He adjusts his tri-corn Patriot hat, sipping on a beer and flitting his eyes around suspiciously, "Let's just everyone settle down and put down all the weapons. Even the ones that might be inside of our skin or eyeballs."

There was a press to the back of her head that stopped her from knocking herself against the wall. One eye looks uprward towards Logan from her crouch, her knees pushing themselves upright as she lifts a hand to rest calmly upon his shoulder. She echoes Scott's words, "Easy now.." Without forcing herself upon the mans claws to put them back to where they should be. "See? We're even. I've done wrong by Rose and she had the right." And, she leaves it at that.

Yes. Jean was bleeding, but she's suffered worse fates. Her tongue is licked against the cut within her jaw, mouth balled and she -swallows-. Guh. That was going to give her a stomach ache later. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl. A light pat is given to Logan's shoulder, now that she's surprised to see him here amongst the masses, she offers up a little pained smile and a move away to offer up nods to all present. "Fellas." She casually remarks, her hand lifting to touch her busted lip, her path soon draws her closer to the Professor in favor of a chair that was close.

Nate's emergence gives her a pause, her gaze flitting to the young man and then towards Scott, three times over to check the resemblance which draws rose colored cheeks into play. Totally was from the punch. She was to remain quiet.. that was until Longshot flips and speaks his peace. She couldn't help it. One good way to ease the tension was with a good and hearty laugh, yet hers came out musical. And endless.

As those three long metallic claws sheath, returning to their resting place within Logan's forearm, the skin around his knuckles heals, leaving no trace of blood, or that he was ever punctured. That Rose is quite the character, he thinks to himself. She's one that bears watching. For now, the danger seems to have been averted and Logan is left to consider that all of this just happened in front of an off-duty police officer. Not that he minds, but, it's interesting to see how Tom Corsi handles this.

The acrobatics of Longshot cause Logan's eyes to widen in surprise. He hadn't expected the backflip in such a confined area. That ceiling can't be that high. To do a move like that, over a couch, is truly impressive.

He'll help Jean to the chair near the Professor, looking her in the eye to see that she's awake, alert. He would have checked the back of her head for blood, but he can smell that her lips are the only ones that suffered. For a moment, he debates leaving her, but as no one else seems to be doing it, he will.

He leaves her, heading towards the table with the drinks. He'll grab a swath of napkins, probably around seven or eight of them, ball up some ice in them, and return to Jean, "here you go." He may not be a surgeon, and he may not have to worry about it himself, but he knows simple first aid. With her seemingly all right, he asks, "what'd you do?"

While he was surprised at his own reaction, it seems obvious to everyone that he had gone into full protection mode. Only now does he stop moving on instinct, and look to Scott, gesturing to the one-eyed woman as if she weren't standing there, "what's her story?"

Similarly, Scott is about to move off to get some ice, but Logan is already on it. At this point, he's starting to grow annoyed, and it shows. He even sighs! However, she is in good hands it would seem, so he diverts his attention to Rose. "Long story," he answers Logan, though as he does, his ruby glasses turn to gauge Nate with a meaningful nod.

"Wilson." He turns to walk over toward her, looking down toward her as she sits. "Your hand okay?" He nods to her. "Doctor Grey's tougher than she may look."

Oh, he's trying so hard to conceal the annoyance from his tone. As he stands there, he looks her over, then passes a look toward Jean. It lingers there for a few moments, but aside from the thin line his lips have drawn into, his expression is otherwise concealed.

Tom Corsi isn't as lackadaisical and every day about this as everyone else here is. The man isn't a mutant after all. He was just about to yell -PUT THE WEAPON DOWN- when they snap out of sight and Logan isn't sporting blades. "Professor, sir, back when that attack happened I helped you clean things up, you assured me something that terrible wouldn't happen again… What I am seeing here makes me question that. You paid me a lot of money and helped me out quite a bit in cleaning up that fiasco… we can't have something like that happen again."

"Eyeballs?" Remy questions Longshot but doesn't pursue that too much. Man's odd but he is warming up to him. It's good to have someone else around who isn't all serious and business - Gotham look sunny in comparison compared to the X-Crowd at times. Jean laughing is a good sign at least.

"Yes, Doctor Grey is a lot sturdier than you can imagine, Logan." Charles agrees with Scott, Tom's words make a smile appear once more on the Professor's features, "I understand officer Corsi, we have things under control as you can see, our guests are just on the side restless. They're as unused to this atmosphere as you are. A small mishap and part of how family operates." A stretch, not really a great 'family' environment when someone is snapping out indestructible cut through anything knives.
Corso doesn't look exactly re-assured by the Professor.

"'nother beer, homme?" Gambit offers the man.
Tom almost objects, "Uh one more, why not. Game is in 30 anyways… "

"Dats a good man." The Cajun teases before slinging one to Officer Tom and another to Nate. "Ladies? Drinks? Last two… " Time for a run soon.

Rose finishes the other chicken bone, leaning to the side in the couch to rest upon her knees and maintain a visual of everyone and everything unfolding, offering Nate a rise and fall of one bare shoulder in a shrug. Then she smiles, about as innocently as a rabid pit bull. "As usual." Though question is evident as the smile fades and she turns in time to see Longshot become a stuntman and rattle on about. "Clue?"


When Jean is pretty much ushered off across the room and taken care of by Logan like she is, Rose… Stares, even her lips fall to a small part. Like she had words but is at a loss for them, her blink slow. "I think Jean needs to remind Eddie she's been outta pull ups for a /long/ time." Now her gaze goes to Scott, perhaps she got the wrong impression but… Really? When Scott comes closer her lips seal and she peers from him to Logan. "I can also speak for myself. Don't ask. I won't tell."

Rocking back a bit she seats herself on her heels and looks from Nate to Scott and whispers. "You guys are a Brady Bunch from Hell." Lower even. "Love it."

Leaning around to Xavier and Remy, she holds up a cleaned chicken leg bone and tilts it like a salute. "Great soiree, and yes… Please…" She has manners, she just has to remember to use them!

The cops words are heard and she looks down, in momentary thought, the cop getting another beer has one corner of her lips quirking. Wheels are spinning. Did he just threaten the people that helped her? Punching and lobbing jello aside… That's not a 'friendly' look, but only those that knew Rose would know that.

No one is going to explain Nate why Jean got punched? Glare. "Fine," he decides with a sigh, looking over the gathered in the room. Some he knows… no. Actually he doesn't! One man in particular draws his attention, "professor Xavier," he greets the old man.

The young man walks to close to the X-Men founder, offering his hand for a shake. "I am Nate Grey, good to meet you at last."

Longshot casually flips the beer in his hand, managing not to spill a drop in spite of the thing being half-full still. He looks back and forth between the various participants, feeling like somewhat of an outsider but being okay with that. He was an outsider, after all! He didn't even share a genetic ancestor with these people technically!

"Eyeballs, because that guy," he says, pointing to Scott, "has laser eyes. Sheesh, haven't you looked through the files in the computer room? SO HELPFUL. 3D imaging, action footage. I'm working very hard on my impressions, so I've been having a few people on repeat. I've almost got Angel down," he says, making a very straight-laced, uppity sounding voice, "I am super rich and have big feathery wings!"

"See? Amazing, right?"

At the officer's comments, he grins, "Ah, I've seen this before. It's a shakedown, Professor! The cop, see, asks for a bigger payday, or else he'll expose the whole operation. Just so you know, coppy dude, that usually gets the cop killed when one of the capo's soldiers goes rogue and decides to take care of the problem on his own. I'm betting on that guy," he says, pointing to Wolverine.

He walks over to Jean and leans down, peering at her nose, "I dunno, she looks pretty tough. She was smiling when she got hit. I can give you some tips so you don't break character like that. The audience shouldn't know you're pretending," he says.

"Oh, and if anybody didn't know me, I'm Longshot! I have a head shot and audition tape handy if you want, and my usual musical audition is Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off".

"Nothing that really begs retelling." She lets out a little sigh. "And it's really a conversation for another day. She looks relaxed and happy, I don't want to drudge up the recent past to irritate her again." She says to Logan as he returns with the cloth and ice. Her laughing had died down during, her gaze settling upon Nate and Scott again, her eyes narrowing, flitting back and forth and soon.. Rose joins into the mix with the obtuse staring. And then Scott moves closer, which makes the staring even more.. weird, and with the cloth held up to her mouth it hides the way that she smiles, the punch could be mistaken for a blush and.. once Scott glances towards her she snaps out of that weird staring to widen eyes and look away, embarrassed.

Tom's and Xavier's conversation had her lifting from the couch with a hand extended, makeshift icepack lowered and a head tipped in greeting. "Hello Officer. Sorry to meet you under the guise of our shenanigans. I'm Doctor Grey. Jean, if you will." Once introductions were made, she'd give a good nod towards Remy. "I'll take one. Just let me know when to make the runs, I'll go just to pass the time til' the show." Everyone knows that the only thing about Superbowl worth watching was the Half Time show. Really.

As Nate approaches the Professor, Jean couldn't help but stare at the young man and Scott yet again, inciting that weirdness until that look from Rose was caught. With a little clear of her throat in the woman's direction and a subtle shake of her head, it could be telling. Their minds were joined once, so Rose could have possibly known what that all meant.

Her view was then blocked by Longshot, her brows shoot up in surprise as he leans a little close, her eyes going cross-eyed as she tries to look at her own nose, those greens now darting up towards his own. Her hand shoots up to try to pinch his nose shut, not harshly, but playful. "Didn't your mother tell you to not get close to a red-head? Totally going to steal your soul!"

In another life, Logan and Scott could have been the best of friends. They could have been valiant colleagues, with a shared purpose and goals, who embraced their differences, and worked together. Okay, so maybe not, but that doesn't mean they can't be teammates. They both showed concern for the injured redhead, just Logan seemed to act, while Scott just thought about it.

Inferring Jean's last name to be Grey by the conversation, and that she's a doctor, he ferrets that away to some part of his mind. She would later confirm it. Interesting, then she might have performed the surgery on the female Cyclops. He can sense the annoyance in Scott's voice as Scott talks about how tough Jean is. But again, where Scott stands there, towering, Logan takes a knee to hold the makeshift ice pack to Jean. And then he hears Charles, not in his head, but his voice.

While he's distracted, Jean would rise and introduce herself to Officer Corso. Sensing that he might have been taking too keen an interest, and that it might not have been reciprocated despite the kiss they shared last night. He may well have misread the situation as she doesn't even notice his attention, so he rose up to his feet, keeping his hands at his sides, and looked to the woman who had started the fight. He could probably get along with her. She's as straightforward as he is and doesn't seem to worry about people's feelings. He liked that. Though it is also nice to know that someone with that much attitude is welcome here. Maybe Xavier's is an even better place than he thought.

There are a lot of people in here he doesn't know the name of. Nate, Rose, so he'll offer a hand to Nate after the young man approaches and shakes Charles' hand. "Name's Logan, nice to meet ya." And the name, Grey. He could be a younger brother or cousin to Jean?

"Fair enough," answers Scott. He leaves Rose where she is, and is about to go and rescue Jean from Logan, when Longshot manages to steal his attention. For another moment or two he simply stares. Something he's good at, apparently. Eventually though, a grin actually appears on his face. It's a grin that only lasts for a few moments before he gets this distinct impression that he's being stared at.

Turning away from Longshot — who may have given Officer Corsi more than an earful of potential X-Speak — his glasses settle upon Jean again. Then to Nate. Then back to Jean.

"O… kay. What am I missing here?" He walks back over toward Jean, tilting his head a bit. "Don't tell me she hit you harder than it looked." There is concern in his soul, but with those glasses, it's difficult to place. "It may not be the best idea for you to go driving," he adds. She did just take a hook to the jaw, after all.

"Brady Bunch got nothin' on us, mon chere." The Cajun assures Rose as he stands up, "Remy gonna go get some more beer an' some wine."
To Nate the Remy can only offer a shrug, "Your guess as good as mine. I jus' assume it's women, you put dem around one another dey always be hate'n." A grin and a wink at both of the females and the man is departing. "Won't be long."

The officer shakes Jean's offered shake, "Doctor Grey, nice to meet you. Thomas Corsi, you can call me Tom. I'd offer some advil but it's been in my wallet a while, not sure how old it is… "

Charles as usual is smiling, a handclasp with Nate and he speaks, "We will have to get in touch soon, Nathaniel. I was looking forward to this encounter." Wheeling around the young man and towards the door as well he pauses, "Please, Rose, Nate, Logan… take up guest rooms. We will all be in touch soon. Longshot, your room should also be ready. I expect everyone to be civil and act like guests here. It's rather cold out and there is no better place to be indoors with good people. Remy, wait up please, I will take you to the cellar. I have a special wine just for tonight, I've been saving it you can bring it back up to the rest… "

Rose only has an eye for Corsi at the moment, that is until Jean is clearing her throat and watching Rose, that gaze snapping from the cop to her and then away after lingering on Nate a moment. While (re)introductions are going on she rises and heads back over towards the tables, a beer in one hand and a plate getting filled in the other. Okay so two wings opened that seal and her stomach was growling, making her eyes way bigger as she mounded it up, pausing when Xavier stated they had rooms here.

Blinking she watches the man go with Remy, concern and relief, at least for now because the bungalow she and Nate were residing at is no longer livable - but she still has her trust issues. Leaning against the table now she smply settles into watching the others interact, reading what she can, though every now and then going back to the cop in a warned debate.

Nate nods to the professor. But if Rachel made it to the mansion, he figures Xavier has experience with odd visitors. He turns, to find Logan there, offering his hand. "Logan! Of course!" He shakes the offered hand firmly. "I heard you just got here. Hard to believe…" pause. He should explain that. But not now.

Shaking his head, he meanders back to Rose's side. Only then he notices Jean's glances. So. Subtle. Thanks, Jean. He gives the woman the telepathic equivalent to a poke under the ribs. Followed by a focused psi-send « Is this Corsi person also a mutant and aware of what is going on here? » He asks, wanting to know what kind of things he can talk about.

Longshot finds his nose pinched, making an appropriately comical eye bulge and a *beep* noise. He may've had a teensy bit of clown training in amidst all the general entertainment. "Steal my soul? I think stealing hearts is more likely your crime of choice, Doctor. Anyway, my mother was a gelatinous blob of synthesized bioprene and my soul is a digitized imprint of an audience survey designed to create maximum herodom. It's why my dimples are so deep and my butt is so tight. Audiences love butts and dimples. But not butt dimples. It's an irony! Or a travesty!"

He waves casually goodbye to the Professor, tilting his head so his tricorn rolls down his hand and into his fingers, flicking it so that it lands precisely on the Professor's bald head as he wheels away, "Ride, Professor, ride!!" he calls.

He's not about to let Rose go just sitting in the background, though, pointing right at her, "So, you, snow angel, got really mad at doctor ginger here for something. Hairy nurse guy," he says, towards Wolverine, "wants to stab you with his hand needle for hitting her, because he really wants to be loved, while laser eyes is all stoic and cool over there because he's the leader guy and he has to stay objective. And you," he says, gesturing towards Nate, "You have pretty good hair. Other than that, I got nothin'."

Jean stops pinching Longshot's nose, releasing him from the 'death grip' she had upon him. This guy was really fun, and the mood within the room lightened due to his efforts. However, Scott's question had her clamming up yet again, a slight wince given as she slowly stands, the ice pack tossed down upon the table as she moves away from Logan and Nate whilst introductions were made. This.. this was kind of awkward. But, lets focus on her head for a moment!

"She did hit me hard.." And since she was close to Scott, her voice was measured, low. "I personally think she was holding back." It wasn't a joke. She was completely serious. "But I'm fine to drive, I doubt there's a need to leave since Remy is still here somewhere. But if everyone else wants a brand of beer?" She glances to those present, if they wanted to make orders and stock the fridge with what wasn't in the house? She'd do that.

Now, for the weirdness, her cheeks were still red from the thought, the telepathic nudge confining her to silence as she reaches out to lightly try to slap at Scott's arm, and possibly poke at his side to tickle. "Nothing. You just got something in your hair is all." Jean? Was a terrible, terrible liar.

«I don't know who he is. Let's just save most of it until after the game.» In response to Nate.

Longshot's deduction gains a slight shake of her head. "Have you eaten yet? Longshot is it? Let's get some food." Great diversion to her lie! Longshot was going to come in handy.

Logan has a firm grip, but he doesn't squeeze Nate's hand the way he Scott's a few days ago. Taken aback by the tone, he asks, "do I know you, bub?" But no answer seems to be forthcoming as the guy heads over to Rose. She's a popular girl, even if she does occasionally sucker punch people. As he listens to Longshot, he understands most of the words, almost all of them, but that makes him no less comprehensible. He stares, blankly, trying to make sense of it. If he had a friend here, he'd probably be asking where they picked this guy up, but really, he's surrounded by strangers and the one person he knows is preoccupied. That's fine, he's more of a loner anyway.

With the game now started, and everyone seemingly at peace, Logan looks for the beer he had left on an end table, taking a swig before he hears about being told that he could take up a guest room. That's an improvement. Scott had insisted he stay at Mrs. Olbermann's Bed and Breakfast, the one right next to Harry's Hideaway, but now he would have a room here at the mansion even if temporary. Glancing at the game, it was as he expected, painfully slow. American Football wasn't his game. There was no flow to it. Scoreless after the first quarter.

He decided he'd make a beer run. After all, he could be gone for half an hour and probably only miss a few seconds of actual play. Without a word, he began walking towards the door. He didn't explain himself. He wasn't taking orders. He was just going to go, get some beer, some dip, some chips, and people would enjoy it. He'd been to enough parties to most people will enjoy whatever on offer. Just one question, where the hell is the garage. He'd have to sniff that out.

Rose knocks back the bottle of beer, almost draining it but is interrupted in her personal game of chug when Longshot starts speaking his inane banter. "And you must be missing Larry and Moe. While we're pointing out the obvious in a comedic manner." Rose states tilting her bottle at Longshot in a 'cheers' manner and then downs the rest, setting it aside.

"Name's Rose." She says, grabbing up a couple napkins and then heading back for the couch to carefully seat herself without touching her exposed back to the cushioning, tilting a bit to keep the TV and the group in sights.

"Vodka!" Though as Rose orders she is patting down pocketless shorts and frowning. "You guys have my money, so put it on my tab." There she is frowning again, she wants her stuff! Logan can have his scissor hands, why can't she have hers??

Looking to Nate she holds the plate up in offering to him as well while her other hand is taking advantage of pita chips and hummus. Yay for hippy food to counter the pile of bloat she has on there too.

Nate stares Longshot half amused, half bemused. He is missing some of his references, he never saw a functioning TV until he was eighteen. "Longshot, good name," he shakes his head. "Yeah, I got nothing either." Except now Rose has given him a plate. Of course, he is hungry, as per normal. Food is a good distraction for awkwardness. Right, Jean?

Speaking of TV. He glances at the game a couple times, curious. But not curious enough to ask about it. He has more important things in his head. Glancing at Rose, he says, "y'know, I think I should check those guest rooms now. Maybe find your stuff and get it there. I can't remember were we left it." He stands up and offers a hand to the white-haired girl. "Coming?"

Longshot looks at Rose for a moment and his face slowly drops. The energy and bounce in him seeps away and his shoulder slump a bit. "Ah. I did not realize that I was being an annoyance. I often do not. I do not read…people from here very well. I will stop bothering you all," he says.

He bows to the room, "I apologize if I made a buffoon of myself. Please, enjoy your festivities." he says.

Rose sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, slumping ever so slightly as Longshot takes what she even /said/ was a joke, as serious. Never mind!

Gathering her plate she rises from the couch, accepting Nate's hand and exits stage right. She had a scenic route to take to find this room of hers after all, because… She has no clue where it is, but it apparently exists. Better then killing the mood of the atmosphere more then she has.

Oookay. Everyone was leaving. Which left her and Scott. That.. awkward. Very awkward.

Instead of lingering by, she just.. gives a wave and wanders off towards her room. Maybe the poor Officer who wondered where all the people have gone and Scott could share a beer and bond over football and a great Half Time score. Hooray?

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License