2019-03-11 - Philosophy in the Park

Summary:

A group of Xavier's alums meet up in the park.

Log Info:

Storyteller: N/A
Date: 2019-03-11
Location: Central Park, New York City

Related Logs

N/A

Theme Song

N/A

mystiquesam-guthriejean-grey

Some of Xavier's best had spent the afternoon working the line at a soup kitchen, doling out big steaming ladles of stew and day-old bread to the underprivileged, most especially the mutants who sometimes faced prejudice from the usual volunteers.

After they finished their shift, some of the mutants decided to take a walk through Central Park, enjoying the city a little bit. Sam stops at a cart and gets a hot dog, "Hey, Jean, you want one? They said these things are beef! I thought all hot dogs were pig. Everything in New York has gotta be fancy, I guess."

"I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the Jewish population, Sam," Jean smiles crookedly as she joins him at the stand, nodding to the vendor to indicate she'd like one as well. "Pork's not kosher. The other nice part is that kosher has a lot of rules about the parts of the animal, so instead of snouts and tails, the beef hot dogs are usually made with, you know…normal edible meat parts," she teases.

Mystique makes her own approach, wearing her blonde, Jennifer-Lawrence-y look, in honor of Jean. It's the face she knows. So in a trendy leather jacket and jeans, she nods. "Not everyone can eat of the divine swine." She adds, chiming in to Jean's voice. "How's it going, Jeanie?" Sam's a new factor, so she doesn't address him yet.

Cannonball is used to people he doesn't know being around. If Jean's okay with the lady, he's okay with the lady, simple as that. "Huh. Makes sense, I guess," he says, "I'm sorry, I didn't get you one, ma'am, but I can run fetch another if ya like. Only got two hands, I'm afraid," he says to Mystique.

Jean turns at the familiar voice, smile quirking again. "Raven. I didn't expect to see you here. Sam, this is Raven," she introduces, helpfully reaching out to free one of Sam's hands from that cumbersome hot dog. "Raven, this is Sam. He's a friend from school. Though he was a lot shorter when I left to come to college here in the big city," she adds with a grin for Sam. "Sam, Raven is…" She trails off, quirking a brow in the other woman's direction rather than spill any would-be secrets.

Raven smiles. "A friend from college?" She asks Jean. "Or a friend from high school?" Which has certain implications. "A pleasure." Raven offers a hand once Jean frees one of Sam's. "And Jean and I went to school together when we were younger."

Cannonball grins, "Probably the same school as me," he says, without naming anything. Wink wink nudge nudge and all that. He takes a rather large bite of his hot dog. "I'm a recent graduate, but I'm stickin' around. They offer college courses now, all accredited an' everythin'. Saved me havin' to rent an apartment. Or getting a job like poor ol' Doug."

"High school," Jean seconds Sam's answer, pausing to take a solid bite of the hot dog. "Mmmph. 'fanks, Sam. S'good." Chomp chomp nom. "I don't think Doug has a job just to pay for an apartment," she chuckles. "Though given the way he seems to feel about the job, I'm not one hundred percent sure why he did, now that you mention it. So you decided to stay at the school, then? Any idea what you're going to study?"

"Mmm. Likely we all have an alma mater in common." Raven says. "A shame that you're sticking around, though. Wouldn't hurt you to broaden your horizons some." She looks over. "Which way are the hot dogs?" Even if she almost certainly knows.

Cannonball smiles, "Ma'am, I'm from Paducah, Kentucky. Postage stamps have wider horizons than I'm used to. Lemme work my way up, huh?" he says with a grin. He gestures towards the cart, "Right over there. And you're right, Jean. I hung out with Doug the other day and, man, he was kinda down. I tried to cheer 'im up, but I ain't sure it took much. I think he's just lonely, more'n anything.'

"It's definitely different out here," Jean admits, taking another bite of her hot dog as she looks around. "I mean, it doesn't have to be, but when you spend so much time at the school, you get used to having similar people around you all the time, having that really close…family. Even if sometimes you want to strangle them. But out here, there's none of that unless you make it yourself, you know know Doug. He's never been one to really go out on a limb like that."

"Yet another thing that the school education is lacking in." Raven says, lips curling up in a smile. "Sounds as if we could use a post-school support group." Her eyes twinkle with a bit of amusement as she looks over to Jean at that, like there's a shared inner joke.

Cannonball nods, "I think there's some truth to it. He's strugglin'. I told him I'll be there whenever he needs it, same as any of the rest of us would be. He heard me, but I ain't sure he heard me," he sighs. "You ain't wrong about that, though, Miss Raven. I'm sure we could even come up with a fancy team name fer it."

Jean laughs, shaking her head. "Well, we do have a gift for the fancy names," she agrees. "But thanks for letting me know. Maybe I can call him up a little more often. Although I've got a feeling that might make him feel awkward too," she sighs, giving her hot dog a mournful look. "Don't ever let anyone tell you it's easier if you can just read people's minds, Sam. It's all a lie." Another bite of her hot dog and she gives Raven a sidelong look. "Maybe just…more time spent discussing what to do outside of the school when you're not fighting giant robots."

"Oh, sure, that's one thing. Or, you know. A little more philosophy, a little less tactics. I'm sure we're all good little soldiers by graduation." Raven says, and smiles to Sam. "Just Raven. Please, you're gonna make me feel old."

Cannonball shakes his head, "I don't think people are ever easy, whether you can hear their brains or not. Most times I don't even know what I'm thinkin', much less somebody else," he says.

"Awright, Raven then. Well, I ain't no soldier. I got kin in the service and they got more discipline and more trainin' and more straight-up guts than I ever could. They don't get superpowers when they go out and fight for what's right, just three meals, a cot and maybe a piddlin' fer college if they get out alive," he says.

"I do think we need more philosophy, though, I'm with ya on that."

Jean quirks a brow at Raven, a glimmer of amusement in her features. "You know, I wouldn't have pegged you for looking for more philosophy," she admits. "I felt like we spent too much time on philosophy and not enough time on practical things more than once. I can't judge, though. The professor's trying to do something big. And it's not like he had a manual for how to keep a bunch of kids with superpowers from going…Well, you know. Turning into that other place."

Oh, philosophy. Survival of the fittest. Whether or not we wasted our time at school. I love the more practical applications too. But you seemed less willing to consider practical applications last time we talked, Jeanie." Raven looks back to Sam. "And Sam, unless they've changed things /a lot/ since I was there, there was more than there should be of "teaching kids to fight".

Cannonball nods, "Too much, I absolutely agree. Of course, reason for that is how many years we spent tryin' to give a little bit o' hope and chance to scared kids who were afraid o' being wiped off the face o' the Earth. Me among 'em. I ain't no pacifist. But the philosophy's important, too. Force ain't good for much if it ain't used wisely."

"It's changed some," Jean shakes her head to Raven. "The bigger the school gets, the more people we bring in, the fewer people have to fight. And it doesn't hurt that registration's done," she adds, taking another bite of her hot dog. "And no more Sentinels flying around all the time. You don't have to spend so much time learning how to take down giant robots when they're not roaming the skies everywhere and just waiting for an opportunity to take you down. And practical…" She grimaces. "Sometimes we have different definitions of what's practical."

"Done for now, Jean. For now. They did it once, they'll do it again. And I like the way you think, Sam. It's all in how you use the force." Raven tilts her head a bit. "Mind if I ask what you can do?"

Cannonball looks around a little bit, as if to make sure they aren't being overheard. Old habits do die hard. "They call me Cannonball. I can fly real fast, usually through most anything gets in my way," he says. "Giant robots, for a good example."

"The fightin' we did is part of the reason registration went away. We showed that hearts and souls ain't got nothin' to do with what genes ya got. And yeah, the hate ain't gone away, not all of it. Probably won't ever. Good folks always gonna have to stand up to bad ones."

"Some will try," Jean nods to Raven. "But whether or not they succeed depends on what we do when we see it. Us, and everyone else. But everyone else isn't going to care what happens to us if we're just a bunch of weird kids hidden away in upstate New York. They'll have to see us, meet us, know us." Finishing her hot dog, she crumples up the wrapper and tucks it into her coat pocket. "Which is why I came here for school in the first place. Except it's not like I'm running around telling people, so…" She trails off, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "See? Plenty of philosophy, Raven."

"You're right, Sam. Good folks have to stand up to bad ones." She'll give him a good once-over. Top to toe, taking a good look at him. "But, I'm afraid business calls, you two. It was really good to run into you, Jean, and really nice to meet you, Sam!" Raven starts to turn, giving a little wave.

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