xp_logs | Artie And Warren, Thursday night

"So... You been getting the mansion tour? Come live in the promised land where mutants are free and safe?"

Artie was walking through the mansion foyer, head down, messenger bag over his shoulder and a bundle of papers in manila folders in his arms. He was exhausted and every step dragged at his feet - he'd been up at five to catch up on his own school work before working out, a session on the shooting range, meetings with contacts and the rest.It had been a very, very long day and while he wasn't in the X Force office right now, he did feel that it might be necessary to go over the reports he was holding again, just in case. He walked right into Warren, papers spilling out across the floor as he dropped them.

As a child, Artie had learned that the kinds of noises his mouth and throat could produce upset people. He'd learned to be silent, relying on gesture and image and later on signing. Sometimes, however, frustration and exhaustion got the better of him and he snarled at Warren. Fuck, Warren. This didn't get easier.

Warren had no idea who this person was or why the hostility,but he put his hands up in immediate defeat. His brows furrowed, he apologized. "Sorry there. Didn't mean to walk into you. Are you okay?"

Artie raised an eyebrow at him, gestured at the papers all over the floor. He was just - not in the mood right now to deal with a suit wearing - because fuck, this was Warren, wings and all - probably some kind of binder and probably the world's most uncomfortable one, if this Warren's wings were as big as expected. "Yes. I'm fine," he said, verbally. Why not? Not like the suit would understand it. Couldn't understand the hissing when even Doug couldn't get that.

Oh, that didn't sound right. The tone seemed positive, but he couldn't get much more out of that. "Right. Let me help you." He kneeled down and started to stack papers. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Warren." He spoke slowly, as if he expected Artie to not understand him.

There was a certain vindictive pleasure in fucking with people who spoke to him like he was an idiot. "Hi! Pleased to meet you. I'm Artie." More hissing, a couple of clicks. At Warren's look, he put everything he was holding down and waved. Pointed to himself and then wrote 'me = Artie' on his phone.

Collecting the rest of the papers, Warren stood up and glanced at the phone. "Artie. Pleasure to meet you. I apologize if I offended you." He was fairly certain that's what those angry noises were. Perhaps. It was a 90% certainty. He handed the papers to him. "It seems you have quite a bit of work to do." And yet he didn't look high school aged. "Do you work out of one of the offices here?"

Artie smiled broadly and nodded, sliding the papers back into the folder. Warren was speaking slowly and carefully, clearly suspecting that Artie might not understand him. Okay.

'I work here as a receptionist' he typed.

Okay, so it must be a speech impediment, Warren thought to himself. But he couldn't figure out much else. He hated being in the dark. "Oh, that's great. A receptionist." he cocked his head and thought for a moment. "Wait, for here?" He pointed to the ground, indicating the Mansion. "Or for one of the offices? I'm afraid I still don't quite know what's all in here."

'x-force. i cover reception when i'm in the building.'

Warren really really wanted to ask how Artie could provide reception when he didn't seem to 'speak' but he thought that might be borderline rude. He'd find someone else and ask them later.

"What's X-Force? Is it like XFI?" All these acronyms. He needed a notepad or something.

Artie put the folders down at this feet and, with two free hands, typed far more rapidly 'we... solve problems or stop them from becoming problems that might affect the mansion. mutant problems. magic problems. weird shit. nationally, internationally. a lot of problems can be solved with a little ... push. sometimes literally.' He eyed Warren. 'you look like you have a question for me. ask it. all good.'

Warren read the texts and nodded. "I'm simply wondering what tools you use for your job. It must be limiting to have to rely on a cell phone."

"I have some very good speech programs" Artie replied, using the one on his phone. "And there are other work arounds. Relay services. Some people are even so clever that they can sign."

That was almost certainly a dig. "Sign, you say?" He furrowed his brow. "That is clever. Sounds like you have everything you need to be successful at your job. Technology is a marvel."

Artie quirked his lips into a tight smile and looked at Warren, so deep in the damn mutant closet that his wings were bound up even here at the mansion and replied in projected text. "it really is, isn't it?"

Warren didn't break the gaze. An amused, almost bored look crossed his face. "Quite."

"So... You been getting the mansion tour? Come live in the promised land where mutants are free and safe?"

"Free-range mutants are all the rage these days, as long as they're in one place." Warren quipped. "And I do enjoy being in style."

Artie raised an eyebrow. "Then you're in luck. There's a few fashionista types here that could probably even make you a three piece suit that fits you properly."

Warren raised his eyebrows. "What's wrong with my suit? I'll have you know it's exquisitely tailored."

In for a penny, in for for a pound. Artie held out one hand and an image of Warren appeared on it. He pointed to the slightly bulky fit of Warren's jacket over his back and shoulders and raised an eyebrow.

Warren shrugged. "Better than the alternative." The idea of having his wings out was so foreign, especially with his shirt on.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a little difficult to get things done when you have a visible mutation," Warren said bluntly. "And I have a business to run."

Oh boo-frickity-hoo. Living in the sewers was tough, too, and hadn't he come out of that as a picture of light and joy? And not being able to talk, well, that was totes fun.

Artie nodded and picked up his papers again. "Just remember things are different here. Different rules on the mansion grounds. You might like not hiding."

Warren felt uncomfortable just talking about it. There was a time and place for everything. In the gym, yes, absolutely he could be topless. His room, why not. The sky, that's a definite yes. But walking around a mansion, filled with people? The idea of his wings knocking things over, or touching other people was not a pleasant thought. "I don't see it as hiding," he replied finally. "I'm happy with how things are."

Artie kept his face professionally neutral and nodded. Okay. He followed up with an image of himself heading across the foyer and away, a red arrow helpfully pointing this out and waved goodbye.