Summary:Echo is handed a curious letter and Rogue has an interesting run in with someone's fist. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Kaleb is as anyone in the X-Mansion might expect to find him: entirely too well dressed for a Monday and generally avoided. He might be described as having some mad resting bitch face but even he will argue it is ever ready, and always vigilant. He's stopped, pressed trousers, matching waistcoat, shoes to a damn polish. There are rumors he sleeps in a 3 piece suit. This is unconfirmed. Presently he's reading a letter, trifolded, and held loosely in his fingers looking mildly disturbed.
And as if this were an exercise in contrast and compare, here comes Rogue. Dark hair loose and a little windblown, cheeks flushed from the chill in the air outside. There's a dark brown leather jacket tossed over a comfortable green long sleeved shirt and jeans, her favorite work boots -brown leather that have seen better days on her feet. A hand will brush hair out of her face as she closes the door behind her. Green eyes will find Kaleb, drop to the letter in his hand. "Everything okay?", she will be brave enough to ask, considering he's holding it there and is still as stone.
Kaleb spends the next second or so after the question is asked to let those cold, too-blue eyes scan the letter again. The answer happens without lips moving to be heard. This is just first-nature to the sonic. Looking up he asks "Who sends letters? Why not e-mail this?" This is his hangup?
He turns the letter over. No, it's not a joke, and it's one sided. Most conversations with Kaleb do tend to be one-sided though. Still, the look is slightly confused which might be the extent of his non-outrage emoting goes. "Yeah just got a letter saying something about some non-mutant or maybe-mutant might be attending classes." Looking up to her he asks the question he already knows the answer to, "Do I strike you as the person to teach second-grade math?"
She will look back with faintly arched brows as she looks at him. "Depends on what's in the letter. If it's got some personal information in it, emailing it may be unwise or even illegal, even inside the same system." Rogue will shrug, sliding out of her jacket. "Mutant maybe or non? Interesting. I didn't think we did that sort of thing." Green eyes will look back into blue. "To be honest, I'm not sure you strike as someone to be a teacher at all."
Kaleb gives Rogue that flat look, but doesn't argue it. With a exhale of agreement his voice answers above a murmur, "If it corrects the stupidity of the world and the shit opportunities they'd otherwise get? I'll find the damn time. Here."
The letter is folded but extended to her with two fingers to read. It's an update and a copy of the letter of offer indicating that the child is both bright and 'at probable risk' of expressing genetic anomaly and that it is 'unsafe' for her to remain in her own school so she will be attending here.
Looking out the door and back to Rogue he asks, "I heard they've done things like this before. Why wouldn't they just go after the systemic issues. Let's just hide her instead." He watches Rogue read the letter and then looks around at the school and back, That's going to be weird, either way. What were you up to out there. You look like you battled a tornado." Backhanded concern, courtesy of Echo.
She will look over the letter, brows drawing together. "Because sometimes it is easier to protect the child than it is to fix the system. It wasn't so long ago that they wanted us all to register, remember." Not that she had, or would have. "And it also depends on the student. If they have a possibly dangerous power…" she shrugs.
A hand tucks hair behind her ear. "I took a fast ride in a fast car, with the windows down." Now that the hair is pushed back, there's a fairly livid bruise in purples and blues on the corner of her jaw. "I like the wind in my hair. I can always brush it again."
Kaleb arches an eyebrow still uncomfortable with the truth of the answer, but it is what it is. Head tilting a bit he answers her, "I remember being there with my fellow constituents." Which is a fancy way of saying the Hellfire Academy threatened to lay waste to a large chunk of many things. You know, all teens go through some methods of bad self expression.
His eyes go to the bruise and back to her curious not subtly asking, "Did the car come back?" He takes the letter back and just lightly taps it against the palm of his other hand; ones that have never really seen manual labor direct. "Maybe." He sighs murmuring audibly, "I really hope it's not another fucking pyro. Never can get the AC to work properly with them in the same damn building." Yes, that's the concern. Let teh world embrace the superficial micro-concerns of it if that's even his real concern at all. Still, he looks back and there's the faintest hint of that eyebrow arching suggesting a grin might be over the horizon even if it never surfaces, "Soooo did we go really fast in the car straight up, oooor?"
"Of course it did. It runs better now than ever." She laughs at the mention of hoping it's not a pyro, apparently she doesn't that offensive or unfunny. "Straight up? No, why? It's not a rocket car, was just a tune up on a sports car for a guy that my boss owed a favor." There's a blink then, a hand lifting towards her jaw but never making it there. "That. That was a bar fight. I was trying to break it up, some idiot punched me." The grin tells him that the idiot did not escape unscathed.
Kaleb nodded slowly at the mention the car is purring like a kitten. And then there's the crux of what he was actually referring to. Then both eyebrows lift and his acerbic humor rears its head, "Well if they weren't wearing mittens I'm going to say the element of surprise was not working in their favor." Because that's a punch Kaleb does NOT want to throw, you can bet your ass. Still there's no celebrating and he watches for a moment assessing…something. "Any problems?"
"You do know my skin isn't always on, right?" Rogue drawls, brows up in a disapproving look. "Problems? Handling those drunk schlubs? Not even one. They didn't know what to do, when I kept switching fighting styles on them." There's a smirk there. "If I'd gotten into trouble, I coulda just sapped their energy."
Kaleb narrows his blue eyes taking that ''very'' literally. "That's gross. And unsanitary." He just stares at her. Man, either he has no sense of humor or some fantastic deadpan going. Head tilting to the side he admits, "I actually didn't. Should have. They'd forever learn to keep their damn hands to themselves and maybe to be a dick taking a swing at a lady." Eyes roll and he goes back to not using his face to speak. ''"Good manners are dead."'' He considers the rest and announces, ''"I need coffee"'' which directly translates to 'there needs to be some pre-made', and/or some manner of invitation.
There's laughter, because she doesn't really think he's being that literal. Green eyes are lit up with amusement, as hands lift and pass through her hair, taming it into a fair semblance of neat. "Well, most of them will probably think twice about calling a lady trying to break up a fight a bitch and tell her to shut up and sit down. I'm pretty sure the one who did it will certainly never do it again."
There's a smirk, as she will move to head towards the kitchen. "Come on, I'll get you some started in the Kuerig. I could use some too. You a dark roast sort?"
Kaleb arches that eyebrow way high giving her a side look, "Rogue, yooooou are a better person than I am. I'd have sapped them to the point of letting them lose control of their own body functions and while they lay there exhausted and embarrassed?- well… you're a better person than I am." The offer to get him a coffee started is met with a nod, "I appreciate that." More a statement than outright gratitude, but hey, what can one really expect from him?