2019-11-07 - Bagel Meets Coffee


Julian and Quinn meet at a mutant support group, make disparaging comments and go find better coffee.

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: 2019-11-07
Location: Manhattan

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Theme Song

Where Is My Mind — The Pixies


Roxy Music said it best. In every dream home a heartache. Those in the mansion were probably aware of her own, but it was her own self fulfilling prophecy that did it. Her friends were killed and she didn't know why. She was coming to the point of not caring. Her boyfriend, well.. ex-boyfriend left her for a very good damn reason. She continually assaulted him, so.. not his fault. She deserved all that. Were there any support groups for what she probably felt? Yes. And it was for the rich, specifically tailored to those who had children who were mutants and no where to bitch about it. Some asshole Warren Buffet-like mutherfucker put it together, and Quinn was there hiding away in the back, pink hair a little bit dull due to over washing and not giving a fuck. Her usual ensemble was something left to be desired among the rich, usual NIN shirt, ripped Jeans and hoodie. Hair in a ponytail and glasses on. Cigarette nursed as well as coffee, both held with the same hand as she scans the room with the rest of the rich and quite possibly, mutant famous. "This is bullshit.." She mutters to herself, turning to ash her cigarette upon the table, purposely missing the ash tray. While the younger mutant finishes his story, and the quick chant of Mutant Pride rings out, Quinn rolls her eyes and shakes her head, preparing to leave the secret meeting out the backway.


It's not a Testicular Cancer support group, but the idea is the same. Julian doesn't need therapy, support, or whatever the fuck this is, but coming here and watching these sad sack mutants tell their tales of woe definitely puts his life into perspective. He doesn't come often, maybe once every couple months, and he never speaks. He puts on the little name tag sticker, 'Julian' printed neatly with a sharpie, and sits near the back. The free coffee is terrible, and he drinks maybe two sips; there's a Starbucks less than a block away, and even that'd be an improvement. He claps half-heartedly at the end of each person's story, scanning the room to see if he's the only one who's stifling the urge to call them out on their self-pitying, 'woe is me' attitude about their life.

When Quinn gets up suddenly, he sees her. Pink hair, shabby clothes, kind of a millenial grunge look, and this impatient IDGAF attitude dripping from her. Julian watches her for what is probably longer than is considered polite, but he's not really one to give two fucks about what people consider polite; the cigarette on the table is a nice touch. He'll give her a moment to make her exit through the back before he gets up and follows. For a moment, the group probably thought Julian was getting up to share, only to be disappointed by his lack of reaction. Unlike the rest of them, he actually believes in Mutant Pride; it's not just a thing he tells himself to make him feel better about not having actually having any.

"Hey," he calls out to her when he steps outside. "You're not going to stay for the big finish when they all stand up and pair off for hugs and tell each other that they deserve to find love?"


Fresh air. Quinn needed it. It also didnt hurt that she had a vape pen filled with Indica that she wanted to smoke. It was damn near military grade; bought straight from California, probably from the same dealer that sells to Snoop. Hearing Julian behind her makes her snort out a plume of smoke. "Does it look like my name is Bob?". She's got the bitch tits for sure. "Look, half of those rich bratty assholes back there are probably lying. This group is for the birds.". She pauses, spies his name, then turns to walk away. "All yours, prep."


"Yeah, that's kind of the point," Julian says, following after her whether she's invited him or not. Not going to ditch him that easy, lady. "Bunch of rich mutants telling sob stories. Mommy didn't love me after my super powers. Boo fucking hoo. The cosmic fucking powers of the universe conspired in all the right ways to get those people in a room together, and all they can do is whine about how tough their lives are. If they had anything really hard in their lives their heads would implode. Where are you headed?" Yep, he's coming along. The best invitation is the one you give yourself.(edited)


"Don't know." Quinn says outright. She really didn't know, she honestly just wanted to get away from that 'pound town' to get some fresh air. And that coffee left a bad taste in her mouth. "Think I'm going to head to the bagel shop to get some decent goddamned coffee." She mutters to herself, offering the vape pen up for Julian to see if he'd partake. If not, she'd keep smoking. If anything, it dulls her senses and makes her a wee bit angry. But it didn't matter at this point, all she could do was shake her head. "It's not even that." Quinn confesses. "These shit-sticks don't know what to do with their lives and probably don't think to even help out their own kind. No, they whine. Complain. Feel unfulfilled and drown that shit in fucking Jimmy Choo's and Teslas. Fuck them.”

"I don't care. They're the worst." She rounds out into the open, her hands shifted into her pockets. Being out in the open causes her to finally tug one hand free from her pocket, slip on her glasses, and shove them right back in. "And, if you're going to follow, you're buying. Best way to not be a stranger to me or some carry on who's ass I have to potentially beat is to buy me coffee and food."


Julian takes the vape pen, and pulls a long drag, holding the vapour in his lungs for a moment or two before exhaling. Not his first time. What do the kids say? That's some good shit? Yeah. "You're making this too easy," he says with a smirk, handing the vape back to Quinn. "Deal. Bagel, coffee, whatever, my treat.”

If she'll continue to share, Julian will take a few more hits off that vape as they walk. "I go to these meetings because it gives me some perspective on my own life," he says. "All things considered, I know that I've got it pretty fucking good. Hearing these assholes complain about petty shit just drives that home. They don't have real problems, they're just trying to rack up sympathy from other rich assholes. God knows why." You wanna see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday night. "They could put their effort into doing something real, but they won't because they can't see past themselves. Collectively there's enough money in that room to make a real difference. Buy and sell Mutant Town five times over, if they wanted. What's your name, anyway?”


You are not the clothes you wear..

Quinn does essentially share her vape. She wasn't stingy like that. Most people would have been gone out of their gourd with the first inhale and take, but not these two, apparently! "You want to see pain?" She asks. "Rich kid, used to go to school with him. When puberty hit he was strong, stronger than any thirteen year old. Then he started to grow nails. Not out of his fingers, out of his skin, so much so that he had to have his eyes removed because it was causing him pain." She takes another drag of her vape, then gives it back.

"So dude's mutant genome gave him power, yeah. But pain. And fucking blindness. Sometimes to get around he'd have to have a telepath show him the goddamned path so he doesn't kill himself or scar anyone else." If he offers the vape to her again, she'll take it, but this time pocketing it. At least the coffee shop is a few blocks down. "Quinn." Is all she offers, for some reason, oddly enough… she didn't feel comfortable giving a last name. Rich kids. "You?”


"Ouch," Julian responds with a bit of a wince. "I knew some kids in school who had some unfortunate side-effects, but I can't think of anyone who tops that," he says. He won't make a fuss when the vape pen is put away, and shoves his hands in his pockets; it's cold, after all. "Julian Keller," he says after she gives her introduction. There's a moment's pause, and he cocks an eyebrow. "Sounds like you went to some kind of mutant school. Where?" They're not exactly well-advertised, after all. Possible she went to the Academy too?


"Sad thing is, I can." Quinn rounds the corner, then gestures to the small mom and pop shop. It was a growing chain, right in the middle of it being commercially known and still local. Those were the best places compared to Starbucks.

They rumor to have grown their own beans with certain strains of flavor.

"Julian Keller…" Quinn echoes, her eyes lifting to the sky as she searches her memory for that name. The surname sounds familiar.. she'll probably figure it out sooner or later. Asking about her school had her side-eying, but Quinn casually used her powers against Bobby, this man shouldn't be any different. In fact, all men weren't that damn different. "Xavier's." Was she around when Hellfire was taken down? Yup. Did she help? Yup. Was there regret? Definitely. Would she tell anyone? Hell naw.

"Let me guess. Home schooled?”


Julian follows as directed, in a rare change from his typical reluctance to give up the lead in any sense. "Not home schooled, no. My parents were as eager to ship me off as anyone back at that meeting, I just don't cry about it." He shrugs, and opens the door to the shop as they approach, not shy about using his telekinetic powers to do so. The door glows faintly green, as does his hand when he motions toward it. And he doesn't even tear the door right off its hinges. Progress.

"Xavier's, huh." Yeah, he knows the name. Knows what they're about. Julian wasn't at the Academy when shit hit the fan, but he got pulled in for interviews after the fact, being an alumnus. "You don't have the goody-two-shoes kind of attitude I always figured they bred up there." If Quinn goes looking in his head, he won't be able to stop her even if he were inclined to, and the whole of his history with the Academy would be right there. Mixed feelings, overall, but he doesn't necessarily think what they were teaching was wrong. "What are you in the mood for?" He motions to the menu board, expectantly.


As the door opens on it's own, it gives Quinn a brief pause. She stops, looks up towards the hinges, back to Julian, then walks right in. "And you don't have the forlorn depression of being homeschooled." Quinn remarked. Though he went to school, where? Any inclination to probe his mind nearly showed as she looked back towards him, in fact, he would feel a slight pressure. But only slight. She thought better of it.

"Coffee. Black. That's it." Quinn says, then rubs a bit at her face. While the weed was potent, there was still a little bit of negging in the back of her mind. Everyone in the cafe had something on their minds, she couldn't tell if it were their own personal troubles, happy thoughts, work related musings or what. It was giving her a headache due to her being cooped up for so long. And it was annoying and making her feel sick. "You don't have to buy it. I'm going to go sit down." And off she went, picking a booth in the corner where there was at least a space of a table in between her and everyone else, just so she could put her face in her hands to recenter.


Julian isn't exactly a difficult book to read; even a light scan of his mind would reveal a lot about his upbringing and education; his status in the family as the consistent failure, and his time at the Academy would stand out. He's not going to bring it up himself, but he might with some light prodding.

He gives a nod when Quinn goes to sit, and tracks her with his eyes for a moment to make sure she's not just trying to ditch him. He'll buy her coffee, and a latte for himself, and a couple of scones, for reasons. What's a few dollars between millionaires, right? All said and done, Julian arrives back at the table carrying it all in his hands, because while he can open a door just fine, he's well aware that attempting to telekinetically maneuver a cup of coffee is going to end badly.

"So, if you think the meetings are such bullshit, why even go?" Straight to it, then. He'll slide her coffee over across the table to her when he sits on the opposite side of the booth, along with a bottle of extra-strength Advil, followed by a scone. It's blueberry.


Quinn wasn’t going anywhere, true prospect of things for free kept her in place. Perhaps that was one thing about her, where she had the means and the money, she consistently tried to prove herself by not using a dime of it unless needed. But as Julian arrives at the table, Quinn sits up. The coffe was immediately taken and sipped on, a look of serene relief slipping onto her features, nodding and lifting the cup to the workers in thanks. It was delicious. But, she didn’t ignore his question outright, settling for the truth if nothing else. “Bored, looking for people who might know stuff. The usual.”


To be continued…

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