(Backdated) LOG: [Miles, Marius] No one is allowed to angst around Miles

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Set shortly after Forge emerges from the lab after the suite's less than civil discussion of Tommy, a still somewhat preoccupied Marius has an astonishingly untraumatic meeting in the kitchen. And also half a sandwich.




It had been a while since Marius had last talked his roommates, although since Kyle had only spent the first night in a tree and Forge had emerged from the lab this morning he acknowledged this was his own fault. It wasn't that he was avoiding anyone, strictly speaking, but he wasn't in the mood to be social. After Monday's row it just wasn't worth the effort. And while he couldn't jog around the clock, Marius had discovered long, private walks were his friend.

However, the body had its own requirements, and now that he'd completed his morning run it was demanding food. Going back to the suite didn't particularly appeal to him at the moment (and anyway, it had been a while since anyone had remembered to stock the fridge), so -- against all experience -- he decided to risk the kitchen. It hadn't been the site of much luck for him, but at least there would be food.

Walking into the kitchen resulted in Marius being looked at flatly by a pair of green eyes, surrounded by green skin. "Shhhh." Solemnly, Miles hushed the new arrival before anything was said, and then returned to his study of the sandwich he was working on.

The big sandwich he was working on. Which involved several layers of turkey, lettuce, mayonnaise and what seemed to be slices of bell peppers of various colors peeking from the edges. There were, in fact, many layers to the sandwich. And then some.

"...Miles thinks maybe Miles overdid it." Eyeing the sandwich once more, Miles nonetheless carefully picked up the jar of mayonnaise and hopped off the chair he'd been using to achieve counter height, and trotted over to the refrigerator to put it away. "Miles is eating it anyway!" Was the cheerful declaration.

"Good for Miles?" Marius said, blinking. He was vaguely aware who the small green boy was -- he'd seen him playing in the snow earlier this week, as a matter of fact -- but this was the first time he'd ever been in a position to talk to him. As Marius' last real conversation this week had been carried with people who'd taken the brakes off their tempers, the boy's cheerful declaration was slightly jarring.

"Miles may have to share though," the boy continued, not in the least perturbed by Marius' tentative reply. "Miles thinks if Miles tries to eat all that, Miles may go boom." He paused, as though considering what that might look like, then shook his head. "If Miles goes boom in the kitchen, Lorna will never forgive him. So." He stopped at that, midway back to the sandwich, and gave Marius a patient look, evidently waiting for something.

"I know she wouldn't forgive me," Marius muttered, but with half a smile. Then, noting the boy's expectant stare and belatedly remembering the preceding comment, he made an effort to excavate some of his normal aplomb. "That bein' the case, guess I owe it to the both of us to spare you that dire fate." Marius hesitated, not quite sure where else to go with that. He felt a little embarrassed to be accepting handouts from a small child, but the boy seemed to have everything under control. He was actually relieved when he noticed what was still missing. "Get you a drink, then?"

Miles eyed the sandwich once more and pondered the matter seriously, before finally nodding. "Miles thinks that is a good idea. And a knife, to cut the sandwich properly, would also be a good idea." He paused. "Since it is a very big sandwich, MIles thinks maybe one of the bigger knives is needed." Clearly, the boy wasn't going to go fetch one of those himself - which made sense, considering how bloody big some of the big knives were in Lorna's kitchen, at that. Returning to the bench, he climbed on it once more, then gave Marius an unwavering stare. "Miles would like some milk, please." A beat. "Milk is very good for you." And with that, Miles beamed at Marius, clearly pleased with himself.

"Good for your bones and teeth," Marius agreed, though he was mentally adding that he didn't think two of his three personal sets of teeth needed the encouragement. The boy's patient stare made Marius wonder vaguely whether he was being had in some way, but after meeting Rachel he had no objections being the one who cut the sandwich. For the moment, Marius wasn't quite prepared to trust any of Xavier's younger residents with sharp objects.

He located a knife, appropriating another plate and two glasses on his way back to the sandwich on the counter. He paused before cutting, knife raised, and looked askance at the boy. At Miles' gracious nod, Marius proceeded to divide the sandwich neatly in half. Given the size of the thing even half might be a bit much, but fair was fair.

It wasn't so much that the kid was green, Marius reflected as he moved to pour the requested milk, it was that look. It was in no way threatening, but it was a look he found a slightly unnerving coming from someone under twenty. Between Miles and Moira's daughter, Marius was beginning to suspect it was an unspoken benefit of the x-factor.

Marius filled Miles' glass and gave the boy a sidelong glance as he replaced the carton. What was his power, anyway? Miles was too young to have manifested, but that didn't make any difference to Marius' perception. Something externally effecting, but passively expressed. Biological? He couldn't be sure. Whatever Miles' mutation, it was unique.

Marius poured himself a glass of water, shaking his head. It didn't really matter. Due to the reactive nature of his own mutation it was highly unlikely Marius could absorb any unexpected powers from a latent mutant, and even if he could, Miles' power didn't feel particularly dangerous. If he was going to be proven wrong, there were worse people to discover it with.

After having gravely thanked Marius for his help in slicing the sandwich, Miles carefully picked up the work of sandwichy art. "Bon appetit!" he cheerfully said, an expression he'd picked up from watching Lorna and Alison when the former cooked and the later reaped the benefits.

Marius nodded absently as he moved to deliver the boy's milk. He set the glass on the table, concluding he might as well sit with Miles, and raised his own glass for a quick drink. In doing so, he took another look at Miles.

And dropped the glass.

Miles eyes popped wide open above the sandwich he was valiantly trying to eat properly. He set the sandwich down, bracing it with a fingertip as it teetered to the side from the now missing lower half of a first bite, and chewing frantically, Miles kept an eye on Marius. Once done, he eyed the glass of water which had tipped over during the fall on the table and the drink spilling towards the side of the table in a steady crawl for freedom.

"...is Marius all right?" There had been no extreme reaction of screaming agony, so Miles figured that he'd been reining in his power properly, but still. At least it wasn't milk that had been so wasted...

"Wh . . ." Where did you go?

He couldn't see it. He couldn't see Miles' mutagenic signature. Marius had never given much thought to his awareness of other mutants -- it had been with him ever since he'd first woken up in the school infirmary. But now . . . it was as if he'd blinked, and suddenly found himself unable to register the color yellow. Suddenly the boy across from him seemed flat, diminished. As unreadable as a normal human.

But he wasn't. Marius knew he wasn't, and somehow that made the disorientation worse. He'd seen the boy's signature, and now he couldn't, and it was -- frightening.

Marius jerked out of his shocked paralysis and took three quick steps away from the table, trying to put some distance between himself and the unknown quantity that was currently attempting to maintain the structural integrity of its lunch. He almost tripped over his own feet when his vanished awareness suddenly reasserted itself on the fourth step.

Marius blinked, started to say something, then realized he had no clue what it was going to be. He also realized that a split second ago he'd been mortally afraid of a small green child who was trying to split his attention between an inexplicably alarmed teenager and a slow but inexorable mayonnaise-slide in the vicinity of his plate. Marius winced. This was not looking to be one of his better first impressions.

"Sorry," Marius told the boy, forcibly unclenching his muscles. "Was just a bit -- startled, is all. Your mutant power's active, right?"

Miles blinked, looked at his glass of milk, then looked at the hand Marius had used to place it there. He frowned a bit, one of those little boy thinking intensely hush now type of frowns, then gave Marius a thoroughly sheepish look. "Miles is sorry. Miles usually doesn't think to check his power too much when he knows it is not people that can be hurt, and Miles always gets warned if he has to be careful around anyone, like Kitty when Kitty is phasing through walls, because then-" he stopped, and took a lungful of air, "then it would be bad because Miles might accidentally shut her power off at the wrong time." He paused, then realized he still hadn't actually answered Marius' question. "Erm. Yes. Miles' power is always on. Miles dampens other mutants' powers." Another pause, and a concerned look. "Miles will be really extra careful now and is Marius all right?" he asked, ending the question on a very small voice.

Marius' reassuring grin was tinged with mild embarrassment. "No worries," he said, shaking his head. "No harm done shuttin' off my power, it's just I'm used to it bein' on. Not to say they couldn't use an off-switch now and again . . ." Marius paused, a thought occurring to him. "Wait, don't -- turn it off, or check it or whatever yet. I want to test somethin'." This time his smile was unreservedly playful. "That's okay, yeah? It's for Science."

"So long as Marius does not faint, blow up or blow the mansion up, Miles thinks it might be okay." Then again, Miles knew Marius wasn't one of those who depended on their mutation to survive (he had a List of such people in the mansion and knew them all by sight, even each time there was a new one) and shutting down his power would mean nothing going boom. Neither Marius, the mansion, Lorna's Kitchen and well, not Miles neither.

"If Marius collapses or goes blue in the face, Miles will be very peeved. Miles is just warning." Making sure the sandwich would not fall and figuring Marius would clean up the tipped over glass of water afterwards. After all, Marius had been the one to spill it... "Okay."

Marius snorted wryly. "No worries. Can't say any of those possibilities much appeal to me, either, but it's not as if it'd be anythin' new. My power's not exactly the delicate sort." Cautiously, and reflecting that Forge had probably been a bad influence on him, Marius stepped forward. This time he was prepared when Miles' signature again winked out. He paused there for a moment, adjusting to the change in perception, and took a slow step back. The signature reappeared instantly. Curiosity and confidence mounting, he put one foot across the invisible boundary and did a few experimental vacillations in and out of Miles' range.

The effect was actually sort of fascinating. Until he'd lost the ability to see it, Marius hadn't noticed just how much the mutagenic aura influenced the way he perceived other mutants. Now, without the benefit of that awareness, Miles looked almost like a different person. He was, he realized, seeing the boy the same way everyone else did.

. . . Cool.

The look the kid was giving him indicated Marius' sanity was under close scrutiny, which Marius blithely acknowledged was not an uncommon reaction. The older boy grinned and straightened himself with a comic flourish.

"Just enjoyin' the lack of collapse or explosion," he explained, lacing his hands behind his head. "No need to turn your power off on my account. It's dead interestin', actually."

"Miles is too. It is nice to see people not go boom," he added wisely, although whether he meant that in a literal or figurative sense was left to the imagination. "If Marius does not mind then, that is good. Miles will still be careful though in case one of the Boom People walks in, because that would be very unfortunate," he said, carefully enunciating the last word.

"Also, anyone going boom would spoil the sandwich." With that he settled back down and picked up his sandwich again, grinning wickedly at Marius all of a sudden. "Miles knows he can finish his half of the sandwich. But can Marius?"

Marius, who had acquired a towel to clean up the belatedly remembered the spilled water, paused in his mopping to scoff. "You kiddin'? I'm sixteen. I don't go a day without eatin' at least twice my own weight. Here--" Moving briskly, he finished wiping off the tabletop, tossed the sopping towel into the sink, grabbed the remaining half of the sandwich from the counter, and slid into the chair across from Miles. Picking up the sandwich, he paused long enough for a challenging grin over the crust. "Right," Marius said, "head-start or not, even money says I finish mine first."

"Miles thinks that is a deal!" And whatever the object of the bet would be could be decided later, Miles decided, because there was food to take care of first and that was the most important thing of all, just then.

Frankly, Marius had never envisioned a scenario in which an eating contest with a small green child would be relaxing. Still, he reflected as Miles succeeded in getting his mouth around a good 75% of his creation, normalcy was in the eye of the beholder, and he was grateful to find it, whatever form it took.

In the end, Marius won. But victory had been a near thing, and he still found himself to be the one doing the dishes afterwards.