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feel like blah
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ooc
sick
feel like blah
will get to replies in a couple days
<3 xoxoxox to y'all
A Change of Scenery
And a heart, Emma had. It was buried over layers of dirt, ice and irony, over and over again, but still here, waiting patiently to be given the right to be broken again. However, as far as global warming went, it did not affect the kind of ice and coldness that Emma had in her. People saw her as a survivor, a strong woman who would never break down, never let anything happen to her students, but they were wrongly fooled by the ice, the dirt and the irony. Some of the things she said had no other point than to pass of something mean for something clever and bitchy.
After all, at the end of the day, survival was a fairly easy thing. It came from being so beaten up, from taking in so much that it became power, rage, a powerful coercion force. It came from being at the end of the wall and spit in the face of whoever dared to make a move in your direction. It came from pure and raw will, from going on and walking straight ahead no matter what. There was no really fight, no secret recipe to make a fighter out of you – Simply you, broken, raw, and with nothing else but the conviction that things would not turn out alright, but that at least you could try to make it better. And maybe this was all it was for Kurt too, despite all the faith and hope he had. Maybe it made things more understandable. Maybe not.
Still, the slight change in his tone did not go unnoticed, and for a split second, Emma herself felt indignant. She did not need him to know this side of her. In fact, she did not need anyone to know. And yet, he was courteous enough, or understanding enough, or compassionate enough to not make fun of her and whatever gesture she had almost had.
“This is quite an understatement, dear, considering the fact that you are legal in most – if not all – the countries of earth.” She grinned dryly, the comment voluntarily light compared to the seriousness of their conversation. It seemed to create some kind of irony, as if she was quickly pushing aside the issue of his maturity.
“It is a matter far more complicated that what is and what is not, Kurt dear. These are the consequences than can be expected of whatever dream, as foolish and attracting as it may be, we all seem to be pursuing, and about how to concretely overcome all of this.”
She paused, considering.
“Still, I highly doubt this faith you have to have been present all your life, darling.”
Did he always have faith? Not of the sort he had now. When he was a child, like most children, he had faith in his family to care for him. He had faith that the circus would do well enough to keep them fed and clothed. He had faith that he would be safe. He had faith in the immediate present being survivable. He hadn't thought much about the future. He'd been a happy child, content to let the future happen.
Now he survived by having faith the future would hold something better for him and his kind. Had he neglected to have faith in the future changing out of a youthful ignorance, or had he not believed it possible for the future to get better?
At his most sullen and hostile teenage moments, Kurt thought the world would never see him as anything but a circus freak. He loved his life, but he knew also he had no choice.
Was that a lack of faith?
He supposed Emma was right. He'd not always carried such hope with him.
"When I was a child, I had nothing like the faith I have now. I had no concept of the future being changeable. But it can change. I've seen it."
The smoke alarm is not a kitchen timer
“All?” Kurt widened his eyes. “That’d take awhile—how about the speedy version?”
Dragging a long breath of air, he rapidly spoke, “My sister was my acrobatic partner and my best friend one time my brother tried to sell me I used to wear my mother’s jewelry the first girl I ever loved was the daughter of an acrobat and a wonderful dancer I learned how to dance by the way from a pair of…in English you call them clowns our trailer smelled of lavender like my mother and—
He took an exaggerated gasp of air.
“And I used to perform netless until the day my sister fell. Don’t worry, I caught her. By teleporting though. And boy, did we have to hit the road quickly.”
Alison laughed, holding out her hands, palm first as though she were trying to get someone to stop running. “Woah, woah! Okay, that was the super fast version. I have to ask you to back up— your brother tried to sell you? For how much?” All right, Ali had to admit that sounded hilarious; she was laughing the same bright, happy laugh from before, the type of laugh when she found something truly funny.
On a more serious note, but her eyes were still shining, Ali asked “When you caught your sister, was that the first time you used your powers?” Oh yes. Different from before but excellent all the same.
Kurt enjoyed her laughter. He found it so easy to make her laugh, and he loved it.
"My brother Stefan had always wanted a horse. Always. We had horses in some of our acts, but he wanted one of his own. So he found a tradesman who would buy and sell livestock and had horses to spare." Kurt pointed at himself. "Guess what he tried to trade for it?"
There was a troublesome whiff in this story of valuing Kurt as only an animal, but Kurt laughed to show Ali that it was okay. "My mother went wild when she found out what he had tried to do. She did the same to protect me from the act my sister and I were in."
"We had a comedy act where my sister played the fair virgin and I played the devil of temptation. It was an old-school morality tale gone awry, and at the end she ran off with me, the handsome devil. My mother hated it when it was being developed; she didn't like me to be typecast as the demon. But my sister and I were determined to convince her. Finally she let us put our act in the show. One time we were swinging on the trapeze--because the devil is a swinger, get it?--and she was supposed to flip to the next bar to get away. She missed the bar, though, and yes. My first teleport was to stop my sister from falling to her death. I loved her more than anything ever. She was my best friend and the closest in my family. I think God gifted me with teleportation at that moment just to keep us together for than much longer."
Actually, @midknightson, this one’s a better picture.
The smoke alarm is not a kitchen timer
“Do you still have that outfit?” Kurt asked, laughing lightly. He would love to see her flouncing around in a disco outfit.
He shared his story as well.
“When I was 4, I stole my brother’s toy for fun. He chased me up a tree. My mother was hysterical—so frightened I’d fall to my death. But I did a backflip naturally off the top branches and landed off my feet. Turns out the circus was the perfect place for me—a born acrobat.”
He sighed to think of his family. “I’m grateful every day for them finding me and treating me as kindly as they did.”
He was wistful, and gave a bright smile to lighten up the mood again. “Perhaps we should perform for the students—your disco outfit, my acrobatics—we’d make an amusing team!”
“The disco outfit? I’m actually not sure. I haven’t used it in forever. Some stuff of mine got trashed in California, and that may have been one of them.” She tried to think back; Alison didn’t even know where it would have ended up between the moving about she had done. “But I can check! If not, I made it before, I could always do it again. I would be more than happy to preform with you for the students; we can find some rainy day when no one can go out and keep them from climbing up the walls.” Alison paused. “Unless it’s you climbing on the walls, then it’s fine.”
“Also— he chased you up a tree!?” And to think all the times Ali had wished for an older sibling growing up… She grinned widely. “I know what you mean; my grandmother was always there for me, every step of the way. I owe her a lot.”
“Tell me about the circus, where you grew up. I want to hear it all— please?” True— maybe she already knew some of the stories. But she wanted to hear it from Kurt himself.
"All?" Kurt widened his eyes. "That'd take awhile--how about the speedy version?"
Dragging a long breath of air, he rapidly spoke, "My sister was my acrobatic partner and my best friend one time my brother tried to sell me I used to wear my mother's jewelry the first girl I ever loved was the daughter of an acrobat and a wonderful dancer I learned how to dance by the way from a pair of...in English you call them clowns our trailer smelled of lavender like my mother and--
He took an exaggerated gasp of air.
"And I used to perform netless until the day my sister fell. Don't worry, I caught her. By teleporting though. And boy, did we have to hit the road quickly."
A Change of Scenery
Emma tilted her head ever so slightly, coldly eying, observing Nightcrawler. Of course, his reasoning made sense, and she would expect nothing else from him than indignation at her words. And maybe it felt good, to strike a nerve, to get to the Incredible Nightcrawler, past his defenses and the usual Care Bear appearance that most of the students had grown to love. More than a personal victory on her list, it also felt like connection, a bonding-time of more quality than whatever discussions on values and beliefs they had had before. And maybe this was the right time to ask him again how it was possible for him to believe in Xavier’s dream after all he had been through, but the blonde already knew the answer she would get – Hope, faith, the undying belief that there was something more out there and that they deserved it. For a split second, Emma’s hand rose, seemingly reaching for Kurt in an almost reassuring, understanding gesture – but not out of compassion. Never out of compassion. Whilst Kurt might seek it in others, Emma was unable to give this to him -. Her hand, however, froze in midair and the telepath brought it back on her own knees before she could ever touch the other mutant. Hopefully, he would not take this for disgust – Because it really was more Emma’s incapacity to deal with these kind of situation in the appropriate manner than anything else. Insulting words came to her mouth, about how Kurt was clearly a fool to keep on hoping, and how no walls would hide the ruthlessness, rage and cruelty of most of humanity. She would have told him all men were jerks, but that maybe women were not better, and that it was rare to find an honest, faithful man to stand in front of them, as these man usually ended up broken to pieces. She would have liked to tell him it was all a matter of one really bad day, or of an accumulation of bad day, and that one-day he would understand. Instead, the telepath bit the inside of her cheeks to prevent the words from coming out. She was one to know that sometimes, once the pieces were broken, it was impossible to put them back together in anything coherent. She knew how walls could seem like the strongest armor before they were smashed down. She knew the world was cruel, and Kurt was trying his hardest not to be like this. And so instead, she said:
“You will always find acceptance here, darling, although this is clearly not a ground-breaking news to you. Utility is merely an aspect of things. It is the core, the essence, that we need to look for.”
And all this was really Aristotle. Or maybe it wasn’t.
“I am quite simply questioning whatever utopia you seem to believe we might be headed to, a home filled with pretends and sordid pasts. As hopeful and full of faith as you might be, Kurt dear, the assumption that people can change would appear to be widely flawed to most people.”
And she was the one who should understand it more than anyone, she knew. She knew because of Garmr, of how hard he tried. As for herself, Emma had little expectations – She knew herself too well to ever believe she would fit in this way.
Kurt caught her eye after she nearly reassuringly patted him. He was disappointed--heartbroken, even--to see her give up. He would have accepted the gesture humbly and joyfully if she had.
And suddenly he yearned for it. For Emma Frost, cold diamond queen, to show a damned emotion in his direction. For Emma Frost, who spoke of people being unforgivably cruel, who talked around her feelings, who had a fearsome skepticism and harsh demeanor...to show another side to him.
He knew she had a heart. He knew she loved her students dearly and would protect them like a fierce mother bear.
He just wanted, more than anything at that moment, to see it for himself.
"I'm not a child, Emma," Kurt replied, still a bit indignant. But it was softened by her nearly reaching out to him. "I know change is hard. I know all these things you say. But I will not give up my faith. I cannot."
The smoke alarm is not a kitchen timer
“A mutant sensation? That wouldn’t be half bad for a band name,” she grinned. She didn’t mention how one day had already come and gone for her. Why ruin the good mood? It was pretty pessimistic and dangerously on the side of self-pity. And that wouldn’t do. And who knew— for all Alison knew, Kurt might be right. Not even Ruth knew the future concrete.
“Sure, one day— and until that day, I think I like Roscoe’s better than any type of dive. This was a genius idea. I can’t thank you enough.”
Kurt leaned forward and wrapped her in a big hug. “It was my pleasure, Fräulein.” There was an ease between them already, as if they had been friends for ages. Kurt felt content and his tail whipped around excitedly behind him.
The heady beer might have had something to do with the close feeling he felt with her.
“But if you’re looking for band names, might I suggest The Mutes?” Kurt reluctantly pulled away from her and leapt up onto the railing, crouching.
Indeed, Alison felt the same way. Truth be told, she had been a little dismayed and hurried when Kurt had come to the institute and not known her. She was worried things would be different or weird. He had always been such a supportive friend. What if that had changed? But, clearly that was not the case, and while it wasn’t like they were picking up their friendship where Ali remembered it, making new memories was just as successful.
“The Mutes! Perfect, especially if it’s all a capella singing,” Alison laughed, leaning against the railing next to him. She grinned, tilting up her head to face him. The weather was starting to cool down; New York autumn didn’t have the same leaves-changing splendor that the country did, but it was nice to feel a chill in the air at night. “When I was a kid? I went up in the attic and found my mom’s old rock and roll records, and all her disco records too. She was a jazz singer, but she loved the other stuff to bits. So, when I was starting out singing, I made myself a disco costume and wore rollerskates on stage. A gimmick, you know? It was fun.”
"Do you still have that outfit?" Kurt asked, laughing lightly. He would love to see her flouncing around in a disco outfit.
He shared his story as well.
"When I was 4, I stole my brother's toy for fun. He chased me up a tree. My mother was hysterical--so frightened I'd fall to my death. But I did a backflip naturally off the top branches and landed off my feet. Turns out the circus was the perfect place for me--a born acrobat."
He sighed to think of his family. "I'm grateful every day for them finding me and treating me as kindly as they did."
He was wistful, and gave a bright smile to lighten up the mood again. "Perhaps we should perform for the students--your disco outfit, my acrobatics--we'd make an amusing team!"
Mutterings
Cut off? There was a rush of air she could barely feel— no. Not cut off. Teleported off. Of course, it was a while before Alison could move and work out exactly what happened. Kurt? It had to have been him, bless the acrobatic elf. She could have sworn he was here, or someone was there, at any rate. But then Emma reappeared, with that grating voice of hers (ugh; why? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else instead of the telepath? That telepath?).
“Where? Where is he?” Alison brought a hand to her face, which was still the blanched color of oatmeal, and her lips nearly matched. But there was work to do, and poor Garmr…. Hauling herself up in bed, ignoring how much her body protested even considering moving. “We have to call Darcy. Darcy Lewis. Garmr calls her ‘mom’, too. She has to know what’s happened.” Was she babbling? Not quite. There was a method. “He’ll need her.”
“These people don’t just want a test subject; they want a weapon. They want destruction. We have to get him back, we have to go now.”
"You should stay in bed, my friend. You look awful."
Kurt was not sure how he felt about breaking into wherever Garmr was being held. His skills with hiding in the shadows made him well-suited for infiltration, but with something like these collars, perhaps a legal route was more prudent. To enter, metaphorical guns a'blazin', and destroy private property was not exactly the best for mutant image. But it wasn't exactly against Kurt's moral code to fight injustice against mutants even at the cost of mutant image. But he wasn't sure the Professor would agree.
...but they'd taken Garmr. All this inner debate was pointless. They'd taken part of his makeshift Institute family. And that meant war.
"We'll get him back, Ali. We have to get him back. Just..." Kurt was immediately concerned for her in her weakened state. "Be careful," he said warmly, knowing there was no way she would take his advice to stay in bed.
Five Guys Bacon Cheeseburger. Good :)
Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) by Darick Robertson
Hallo, all you beautiful folk
Wie geht es Ihnen?
★★★ and ☆☆☆
IC:
1. Kurt's tail, while under control when he thinks about it, flits about jerkily when he's excited.
2. Kurt has a wicked fast metabolism, so he eats like a horse.
3. Kurt's first crush was on a girl who was the daughter of one of the acrobats who did his routine with him. He never told her how he felt.
OOC:
1. I'm a junior at Northwestern Uni studying public advocacy with the intent of going into non-profit work helping transgender individiuals.
2. My secret back pocket roleplay dream is to find a Phil Coulson willing to have an April Ludgate as their PA.
3. My main fandoms besides Marvel are Portal and Half-Life
The smoke alarm is not a kitchen timer
Leaning against the railing outside, Ali tilted her head back to catch her breath. Laughing and singing were two combinations that rarely went hand in hand, but they probably should.
“Thank you; it’s… well, it’s definitely my passion.” It felt like she was admitting some secret to Kurt, but obviously everyone knew it, so why feel like she was letting out some big secret. “Not the stage or being famous or a star. Just music,” she smiled and shrugged a little bit. “Music was always the best part of me, and I wanted to share that.” It was why she could let comments about being tacky or tawdry or ‘past her prime’ roll off her back so fluidly. They truly didn’t bother her because she felt light years away from it.
“And for a long time I thought it would be my whole life, but— you know, best laid plans and all.”
Kurt was suddenly solemn. “One day, Ali. You’ll be able to be on stage—as a mutant sensation.”
One day. Kurt believed in just returns, something akin to karma—and all of Ali’s sweetness and kindness would return to her as good things.
“And until then—we’ll always have Roscoe’s.”
“A mutant sensation? That wouldn’t be half bad for a band name,” she grinned. She didn’t mention how one day had already come and gone for her. Why ruin the good mood? It was pretty pessimistic and dangerously on the side of self-pity. And that wouldn’t do. And who knew— for all Alison knew, Kurt might be right. Not even Ruth knew the future concrete.
“Sure, one day— and until that day, I think I like Roscoe’s better than any type of dive. This was a genius idea. I can’t thank you enough.”
Kurt leaned forward and wrapped her in a big hug. "It was my pleasure, Fräulein." There was an ease between them already, as if they had been friends for ages. Kurt felt content and his tail whipped around excitedly behind him.
The heady beer might have had something to do with the close feeling he felt with her.
"But if you're looking for band names, might I suggest The Mutes?" Kurt reluctantly pulled away from her and leapt up onto the railing, crouching.
A Change of Scenery
Rationality – Quality of reasoning, going for the optimal and most adequate choice when facing a problem, satisfying one’s own interests. Emma had always strongly believed the human being to be part of this definite concept, to thrive for personal interest more than lending a helping hand. She would know, of course, she was a telepath – And as a telepath, she had heard and seen more things that what was respectable to see, and knew how rotten to the core most humanity was, and how most people disguised it as they could in fear of brutal realization that their existence mostly meant nothing except for them. It was a tricky situation – Protecting herself from people by invading their privacy and still, undeniably, ending up with the same disillusions as before. Some would find it overly poetic, beautiful, but Emma did tend to believe that people hid behind imagery and poetry when all else failed them.
Home had been the Massachusetts’s Academy, and yet the blonde was still not quite sure about this assumption. The fact was that people chose to have a home, people caring for them, simply to forget how utterly alone they were, and how in the ending little else mattered. And the blonde knew perfectly how depressing it was, and tried to make the most of it. What an indescribable word… Home. Maybe it was when she was in Boston, taken in by a total stranger while she had been living on the streets. Maybe it was the smiling faces of the Hellions, right before the start of their very first training session, maybe it was something as timeless as a concept Emma would never be able to grasp, and maybe it was a simple, ephemeral moment, like this conversation. Home was not a place, and to give this name to any kind of room or house was simply pure reassurance. Life happened. And yet Kurt tried so hard to be more than all of that, and made of his failure to do so a success.
“Please, Kurt dear, as kind as you might be to everyone, there will always be someone else to steal your spotlight or hurt you. As much as faith and hope guide you, there will always be a part of rationality in your actions, in whatever you call home.”
"You think I do not know that people can hurt me?" Kurt was indignant for a moment. Emma had gotten her first rise out of him in the whole conversation. "I've been hurt, abandoned, beaten. Over and over. And I know it will happen again."
And again and again. Kurt did not need to be reminded by her what an awful place the world can be. The first moments of his life were spent fending for his life after his mother dumped him into a river. And as much as he wanted to live until a ripe old age, Kurt knew that it was likely the last moments of his life would be spent violently.
"But the kindness of friends is what protects me. It is my outer shield, while hope is my inner."
And perhaps there was the rationality Emma sought. In her cynicism, she could only see the usefulness of things. And the usefulness of compassion was to bring compassion on the self in return. An eye for an eye also meant a sweet for the sweet.
"If you want to strip the universe down to utility, then my home is a place I can hide from the cruelty of the world. Where there is open-heartedness for people like me."
“Me. Kurt Wagner. A.K.A. Nightcrawler, teleporting Elf, and to certain females in my past, ‘Blueberry-Muffin’… but I don’t want that getting around.”
Kurt Wagner Uncanny X-men #423 (via pixienerd1)
Send me a ★ for an IC fact or send me a ☆ for an OOC fact.