xp_logs | Kurt, Marius, and Forge

Forge, Kurt, and Marius head out to the M-Date "social meetup". Upon arriving, one of them has second thoughts.

Forge parked the RX-8 in a pay-lot a few blocks from the district where the M-Date meetup was to take place. Actually, by his watch, it should have been going for about fifteen minutes, which Marius had assured him was the perfect time to arrive at something of this nature.

The Elmhurst Bingo Hall was easy to identify, being the lone building with a lighted sign amongst various warehouses and truck yards. Adjusting his collar, Forge looked over to Kurt and Marius and smiled. "Well, it's no booming nightclub, but it should be fun, right? Meeting new people, all that?"

"I understand you've gained in years, mate, but a lost summer on a dimensionally-displaced island needn't make you feel obligated to attempt paternal indulgence." Marius smiled as he shut the door behind him, rolling his shoulders languidly. The night was cool, and mostly quiet this far out. He was still finding significant amusement in a scenario where Forge was the one to initiate social interaction. It resolved equal parts gratified approval and consideration of whether he should be asking the professor to look for mind control.

Kurt was looking a little uneasy, glancing at the sign and back. "I am glad it is not a booming nightclub. That would hardly be my choice of place."

"Pity," Marius remarked, flipping at the collar of his shirt. "What's the use in teachin' dance but not applyin' it to the recreational? Ah well. To each his own, I suppose." Graduated or not, there was something vaguely surreal about being at this particular event with a teacher.

"Relax, I tell you," Forge insisted as the three began to walk the handful of blocks to the bingo hall. "Like I told you, this is to meet people in a place where we don't have to worry about people judging each other because of what's in our genes. This is as mutant-friendly as it gets. And," he said with a smile and conspiratorial wink, "I'm assured there are girls there. You remember girls, right, Kurt?"

'Remember' might be the wrong word, but he wasn't about to go there in conversation with two of his former students. "That is not what I am here for, unless it should happen later. Social networking, you said."

Forge stopped in his tracks, looking at Kurt in surprise. "Wait a minute. You teach dance. I've seen you watching those old swashbuckler films. I've heard the girls going all ga-ga about the accent. You're telling me that... what, you're shy about actually talking to women? No way."

"Admirable sensitivity there, mate," Marius remarked.

Kurt had gone just a shade purple at that. "I enjoy the films, yes, and dance. The accent is as it is. It means nothing."

"No, I'm serious," Forge said with perhaps a note of teasing in his voice. "We tell the kids at the school to be proud of who they are and not to feel they need to hide themselves, and you're still hung up on looking different. I mean, if that's still a problem then fine, but like I said before, how're you ever going to change how people think if you don't confront them? And what better time?"

Marius flipped the hair from his eyes with a small wince. He'd done enough forcible social introduction of unwilling mates to know the difference between unwillingness that was merely code for "just needs further encouragement," and when your efforts might have you looking at an argument and a hard shove. Kurt wasn't precisely the easiest read, but he had the feeling this direction would not be the most fruitful.

"I believe what my esteemed friend here is sayin' is that you're here, so you might as well give it a go," Marius said, sliding his hands in his slacks pockets. He shot Forge a look from yellow eyes. "For purposes of social acclimatization, with romantic implications thereof strictly voluntary. Should that be your preference."

"...I am not sure this is a good idea", Kurt said quietly, glancing up at the bingo hall again. "I should not have come, perhaps. I have never been the most social person."

Forge realized then that he'd possibly pushed a bit too hard, and tried to backpedal. "Look, it's not that bad. I mean, no pressure, right? But if you're not up to it or uncomfortable..."

"Right, no need to put yourself in a position of discomfort," Marius agreed, feeling something more was needed. "Though even from the vantage point of a distant wave exposure to new experiences never does hurt."

"Perhaps I need only to come to it more gradually", Kurt offered weakly. "Rather than throw myself in at the deep end, as it were."

The three of them stood awkwardly under a street light for a moment. "Well, um..." Forge offered weakly, "Here we are. If you want to come in and give it a shot, you're more than welcome, I'm sure. But if not..."

Marius nodded. "Right. Should your curiousity overwhelm you, we shan't be goin' anywhere for a bit. Also, after bringin' you all this way one supposes it would be rather ill manners not to drive you back."

"I will wait", Kurt promised. He didn't say anything about coming in... but he didn't say he definitely wouldn't, either.

"All right then," Forge said quietly, then smiled and headed for the door. "Call me if you change your mind."

"Your hair's so curly," she said, and burst into laughter.

Marius eyed the blonde dubiously. On the plus side, she was attractive and outgoing. On the more negative end of the scale, her breath indicated at least one of these conditions was due to an indeterminate amount of alcohol. This was rather curious, as there didn't seem to be any at the gathering. He wondered if it would be appropriate to bat this one Forge's way.

"I want to make it sproing," the girl said, and began pulling at a twisted curl that dangled in his eyes.

As the girl's frantic friend pulled her off, Marius decided probably not.

*

Forge sat quietly at the small table, slowly pushing a coaster back and forth. Across from him, a slender brunette was slowly tearing a paper napkin into identical little squares. Finally, she spoke.

"So you like country music?"

"No, not really."

"Oh."

Silence again, then Forge looked up at her. "Have you ever read A Treatise On High-Density Alloys In Manufacturing and Engineering? By Myron Maclean?"

"Um, no."

"Oh."

*

"The book caused a bit of a furor, you may've heard . .."

Marius had realized early on the woman wasn't much invested in the salespitch, but as a true friend he felt it was his responsibility to plough on so long as an audience remained before him. The brunette, however, had her own topic in mind. After several long minutes of having fixed her totally shameless attention on the palm pressed against his clear plastic cup, she finally asked the question.

"What's that?"

Without missing a beat Marius replied, "Stigmata."

The woman stared at him. "Stigmata," she repeated flatly.

"I was a deeply spiritual child." Marius took a sip of water. "Now, this mate of mine is minus the spirituality but plus a few patents--"

*

"And then I moved in with Mary but she was, like, a total pothead which was okay except her boyfriend Jake was a complete loser so I was like, hello! Rent? And she was like, whatever and so then I moved in with Patrice and Liz but they turned out to be, like, totally lesbians. But that was okay! But then I met Brad and he wanted to get a place together and I was, like, sure! But it turned out Brad was friends with Jake and wanted to do all sorts of freaky stuff so I really think moving back in with my parents is going to work out for the moment. Do you have your own apartment?"

Forge just blinked, then realized it was his turn in the conversation. "I'm sorry, I missed that. What?"

Then she started in again, without missing a beat, and Forge was able to go back to focusing on her low-cut shirt.

*

Marius had noticed the girl hanging on the fringes of the group, looking awkward. As he considered it the duty of a polite guest to engage the more timid of partygoers he decided to make his move when she approached the refreshment next to her. Claiming a fresh cup, the Australian drew even with her as she pulled open the coffee tap.

"Evenin'--"

This cordial greeting was cut short by a yelp as the styrofoam cup dropped out of the dark-skinned girl's hands, spattering hot coffee everywhere. Marius swore under his breath, then grabbed a handful of napkins and made an attempt to intercept the growing puddle before it managed to creep any further.

"Right," he said as the girl sucked her scalded fingers above him, "that was perhaps not the smoothest of introductions. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, holding her injured hand close to her chest. "Sorry. Just -- just nervous."

"Ah, no worries. Hardly a stressless situation an' that." The tile more or less clean, Marius wadded up the soggy brown napkins and dropped them in the trashcan before taking another to wipe his hands clean. "Apologies. I would be Marius, despoiler of beverages. Apologising to . . ?"

The girl clutched a messy handful of napkins of her own and began daubing off her fingers. "Billie," she said, not looking up. She was so tense her face seemed pulled away from her tight braids. She looked as uncomfortable as Kurt had sounded, and likely the victim of similarly well-meaning friends. There was a high probability it would be a kindness to both parties not to direct her to Forge. He stepped back a little for her comfort, since from her bodylanguage her sense of personal space appeared to be on the larger side.

"No worries," Marius said, spreading his hands, "you've nothin' to fear from me. I'm here strictly as chaperone for my mate, an' shall thus leave you in peace to resume my duty. A partin' word, though -- a smile'd fetch you company on the fringes any time you'd like, easily."

A man's hand clasped itself on Billie's shoulder, immediately followed by its accompanying face. She jerked at the touch, then relaxed when she saw who it was.

"Mom's looking for you," the man said. His eyes fell on Marius coldly before he turned away, Billie pulled in his wake. She cast one last wide-eyed glance back at Marius, then hurried to catch up to her brother. Marius watched them leave, shaking his head.

"Not the most social of socials," he muttered to himself, then turned to get his drink.

"So what do you do when you're not volunteering at the hospital?" Forge asked, taking a quick sip from his glass of water. Finally he'd managed to find a girl who was interesting enough to talk to that seemed to actually listen when he was talking. After a bit of trial and error, he'd figured out that few women outside of those who frequented his lab were going to be interested in his new capacitor array project or the theories of split-photon remote viewing.

"Oh, I like to read. And I sing in my church choir, and I help my boyfriend out with his..."

Forge held up a hand quickly. "Excuse me, boyfriend?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. He's right over there. I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

Forge followed her finger to the large fellow with the crew cut standing next to two similar-looking men, all looking in his direction without any trace of friendliness.

"Garrison," he said quickly. "Garrison Kane. Nice to meet you. I'm going to go get a drink, okay?"

"So, how's it?" Marius asked as the smaller boy joined him. His leaning against the bar as he drank his water. "Any fruitful networking of the social nature?"

"I think I'm zero for eight or something," Forge griped, suddenly regretful that the bar didn't have any alcohol. "Call this one a bad idea, seriously. Here I give this big speech to Kurt about meeting mutants who don't live at the school, and they're all airheads, morons, or some form of prepackaged suburban housewife-to-be."

"Eh?" Marius glanced around the floor, then turned to Forge with a slant-eyed look of puzzlement. "Mate . . . don't take this the wrong way, but I think you might've been the victim of false advertisin'. So far as this room is concerned, we two are the whole of mutant attendance."

Forge shook his head. "No, the entire M-Date site is set up for mutants to be able to meet in a social environment. I mean, you're right, no one here's visible on the level that Kurt is - although I can swear that girl over there? Those aren't real by any stretch of the imagination. But everyone here should be..." A slow dawning realization swept over him as he noticed most of the crowd moving around, the women heading for a back exit, and all the others covered by the larger men he'd seen earlier.

"Oh crap."

Kurt was wandering, at something of a loss since leaving Marius and Forge outside the bingo hall. While he could have gone anywhere within his range and been back almost instantly, it felt somehow wrong to do so, just in case something happened that made 'almost' instantly not good enough. Perhaps he was just being paranoid - again - but their track record as a group didn't exactly produce confidence that everything would go smoothly tonight.

The only problem with aimless wandering was the amount of time it left him to think.

Fool. What harm could it possibly have done you to go in with them? You might even be starting to have fun, by now.

But he'd chosen not to, and he wasn't one to go back on his decisions.

Even when there is no reason not to? It is not too late to join them, and you know they would be pleased.

What it came down to, he was slowly realizing, was fear. He was, simply, afraid to go into the bingo hall and meet the new people, afraid of what the reaction might be, and not only that it might be violence. Perhaps not even that it might be humiliation. After that scene in the gay bar with Tabitha...

He turned to look back at the building, only a block or so away, and nodded to himself. Kurt Sefton was no more a coward than Kurt Wagner had ever been.

Resolutely, he started for the door.

"Oh crap."

Forge looked from side to side as both the rear exit and the front door were blocked off. If Marius was certain that there were no mutants here, then this entire event wasn't what it appeared to be. "You know, guys..." he said, hands extended, palms up. "This is probably just some kind of misunderstanding. If my friend here accidentally hit on one of your girlfriends, it's okay. He can't help himself. He's got a condition, you see..."

Marius decided he would later have to thank Forge for his unflinching loyalty in the face of danger.

"My apologies, but is there some problem?" he inquired with a tight evenness as he placed the cup on the bar behind him. The act was in part to disguise how tense his shoulders had suddenly gotten at the sight of all eyes turned towards him.

"You could say that," one of the men stepped forward, surprisingly young for the sound of his voice, barely looking older than his late teens. "That's the problem with muties, you just don't get it. You're the problem."

Forge paused, one hand pointing a finger at the young man. "Wait... wait. I know you. I know you. You were..." He stopped, then his jaw dropped. "You were at the Coffeequake fire. You were one of Tommy's friends."

The other boy just smiled, and some of his cohorts behind him laughed. "Oh, you mean the gene traitor? Yeah, we taught him a good lesson. Just like we're going to teach you. You see, you muties think you can just pretend you're like us. Go to our schools, try and marry into our families, try and spread your filth around. Well, we're sick of it, and we're going to put a stop to it."

"You're Duncan," Forge surmised. "I remember you. Let me guess, the M-Date website, the entire operation -your idea?" Duncan nodded as Forge scowled. "Like cheese in a mousetrap."

He looked over at Marius and shrugged. "Options?"

Aside from swearing off communal outings? Marius went for the cell and its panic button only to realise he'd never put it back in his pocket after texting Jennie on the way over. The hot feeling building in the middle of his chest clenched around the memory of something worse. His body burning, fire pressing against his eyes, his nose, his lungs . . .

Gripping the bar behind him, his hands tightened against the counter. It was a struggle to keep his posture casual rather than what it wanted to become -- braced for a lunge. "Mr. Sefton," the Australian said, voice barely audible.

Forge nodded, hand going into his pocket. Glancing around, he noticed that the bingo hall had no windows, the doors were closed, and Kurt had never actually seen the inside. Trying to teleport in blind could be suicide, unless...

Withdrawing his phone, Forge held a hand up to stall Duncan and his friends, obviously fellow members of the Friends of Humanity. Quickly, he thumbed in a short text message:

FOH SETUP. NEED HELP. PORT IN FAST?

"Say cheese," he quipped to Duncan as his phone's built-in camera snapped a photo, the flash illuminating the entire hall for a moment as he hit SEND.

There was silence for a minute or so, the FoH ambushers blinking as they recovered from the sudden flash in their eyes. And then the familiar sound and smell of Kurt's power made its presence felt, as a very angry blue "demon" appeared between Forge and Marius and their attackers.

Then the crowd charged.

Most of them went for Kurt, the obvious mutant, the sudden invader. Marius took no chances their attention would remain that way. As the shouting began he grabbed Forge by the arm and started dragging him in the general direction of the wall. If they were going to be attacked on their way to the back door he'd be damned if he wasn't making sure it'd be from only one side. He was forced to stop abruptly to hook a foot around the back of a folding chair and kick it across the shins of an oncoming assailant.

"Add the internet alongside Xavier's to that list of places not to seek companionship," the boy grated as he jerked Forge forward.

"Lesson learned!" Forge shouted back, raising his left arm to let a glass bottle shatter against the metal. He reached out to grasp the wrist of the guy who'd swung at him, gave it a twist, and pushed his assailant back towards the melee. "We have got to get out of here."

Kurt was in the middle of the melee, kicking, punching, and disappearing from one spot to appear in another with little or no warning -his powers were almost perfect for this kind of fight, and he was moving steadily towards the two boys.

"Out, right . . ." Marius' eyes flicked around, looking for some kind of protection. He found it an instant before he noticed another man grabbing for Forge. Without thinking, Marius spun the smaller boy around by the arm like a game of one-man crack-the-whip and flung him in the direction of a plastic table. "Oi, grab some cover!" he shouted, ending in a grunt as the assailant kicked him in the stomach.

Forge gulped as he was flung into the air, landing belly-first on the table. Thanks to Marius' fashion advice, however, the combination of a silk shirt and a smooth plastic table provided almost no friction whatsoever, and Forge found himself spinning across the tabletop, both feet colliding with the back of someone's head.

Shaking some sense back into himself, Forge looked at where Marius was in trouble. He reached down to lift the lightweight plastic table, and holding it like a battering ram, charged the individual ready to break a chair over Marius's head.

The table hit the FoH member in the gut, doubling him over and flipping the table on its side. From behind it, Forge looked over at Marius. "Hey, cover," he gasped flippantly.

"Beauty," Marius gasped, raking the sweaty hair out of his eyes. He noticed someone had apparently careened into the rack of pool cues, as there was one at his knees. Snatching it up, Marius twisted to face front in time to jab another man in the throat. He scrambled to his feet to crouch behind their small barrier and risked looking over the edge for Kurt.

Kurt had his back to them as he did something that should probably have been physically impossible - or would have been for anyone but him -involving a double-footed kick to someone's head, then somersaulted backwards to land behind them. The next moment, he'd joined them at the barrier. "I think it is time to leave, no?"

Something thumped off the front of the table. "Quite, yes," Marius agreed.

"I concur," Forge replied as the three of them began moving backwards towards the back door accompanied by the thuds of bottles and other objects thrown against the table. Marius's swift swinging of the pool cue kept anyone from getting too close, and after about a minute's retreat, the three found themselves out in the parking lot.

However, Duncan and a number of his friends had headed out the front door first, and were already waiting in a semicircle, blocking off the path to Forge's car.

"You put up a better fight than Tommy did," Duncan said, sporting what looked to be the beginnings of a spectacular shiner, most likely courtesy of Kurt. "But there's no way you're walking out of here."

Before either of his companions could speak, Forge stepped forward. "Allow me to disagree, and here's why." He whipped his cell phone out of his pocket again, opening it and turning slowly to face each of the FoH members in turn. "This is a regular old cell phone. And the neat things about cell phones these days? They take pretty good pictures, and this one in particular does rather passable video. Especially in a well-lit lot like this. And what's even cooler?" He smiled ferally at the toughs surrounding them. "It can broadcast video. Which I'm doing right now to the phone of one Inspector Garrison Kane, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, currently on loan to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Which, to sum up for the single-syllable troglodytes here in attendance, means that the police are on their way. And not the donut-eating glorified rent-a-cop Salem Center PD like your buddies back home, Duncan. So if you and your neanderthal buddies think you can stomp us down before this parking lot's swarming with feds, you just go right ahead. We're ready."

Forge held up the phone like a torch, the small screen casting a light glow over his face. Duncan narrowed his eyes, wincing slightly.

"You're bluffing."

As if in response, a siren could be heard in the distance. A number of Duncan's friends began to look nervous, then a number of them made a rush for their trucks and motorcycles. Within a minute, the parking lot was empty except for the three mutants.

"Well," Marius said, looking at the empty lot, "but for the absence of the odd tumbleweed the moment is complete." The adrenaline was draining out of him, leaving him cold and shaky. He rubbed his hands against his slacks, taking vague note of the sting that meant he'd skinned his knuckles against something. Possibly teeth. He flicked the hair out of his eyes and glanced at Forge and indicated his cell. "Just for the record, that was a bluff?"

"Oh yeah," Forge said nonchalantly, despite the fact that he was shaking like a leaf. "Garrison's phone isn't nearly as cool as mine. As for the police siren... well, thank god we're in Queens. Excuse me, I think I need to go throw up now."

"By all means, evacuate your bodily fluids elsewhere." Marius sagged against the lamp post before realizing Kurt was still there. He lurched himself upright immediately. "Eh, Mr. Sefton, cheers for the rescue . . . it appears your conception of the perils of datin' were perhaps the more accurate."

"I cannot say this was quite what I had been worrying about", Kurt said wryly. "Though perhaps only in that it was more extreme. Marius, do you feel able to drive home? I do not think Forge should, tonight."

In truth the answer was 'not particularly,' but a look at the older boy emptying most of his GI tract onto the side of the parking lot worked wonders for his misgivings. It was all about perspective. Driving from the scene of an attack that echoed with nauseating deja vu was overwhelming. Helping a friend home, on the other hand, was perfectly manageable. "That is quite within my power," Marius replied, thumbing open the top button of his sweat-soaked shirt. "Unless, that is, Forge makes a miraculous recovery upon seein' me behind the wheel of his most treasured of salvages."