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xp_logsKyle and Garrison got somehow bribed? into doing some roof repairs. Kane is very strong and slightly awful. Kyle wants a trebuchet.
"We're seriously not calling a stone mason for this shit?" Kane pulled up another ton of slate, concrete and steel rivets hand over hand via the pully. The load creaked warningly, but only for a moment before the Canadian reached in and dragged it over the cornice and one to the edge of the roof. Apparently, it had been years since the roofs of the mansion had been properly assessed and patched, and all eyes had turned to Kane and Gibney when the chore had been mentioned. The entire mansion was going to owe an epic bill at Harry's after this, or strategic roof leaks could be arranged, Kane thought darkly.
"Depends on how bad it is." Kyle said, distractedly making notes on a tablet. "But, like, the local stoneworkers union has, uh, not the best attitude towards mutants, so." He shrugged. "Its us, or get everyone to go full image inducer for a week." He padded over to one of the marked weak sports and grunted. "Mostly it's like, replace it before it becomes a major problem, so we can take our time with it."
"Title of your sex tape." He pulled off five hundred pounds of tiles like they were nothing. "See, this isn't a mansion, really. It's a friggin' castle. Which means we missed an opportunity not putting in a moat."
"We could. It'd be like nine weeks of mud but we could." Kyle offered. "We'd need a laser shark though, I mean if we're gonna do it, lets do it right."
"I think that reference is older than you, kid." Kane dropped the tiles in front of him. "Show me what to do. With my speed, I can finish before lunch."
"Title of your sex tape, dude."
"Nah, just what your mom-" And the shitty joke died in his mouth. "Fuck, well, I'm the asshole. Sorry man."
"Eh. Not like you did it to be a shithead." Kyle said, trying to shrug it off, though the screech of claws against slate gave him away. "I am gonna, like, take a sec to look up when Austin Powers was made and go back to laser sharks." He pointedly took out his phone and tapped the screen for a few seconds. "Ninety-Seven. I was in second grade. What the fuck."
"It's ok. As Canadians, we learned it mostly in public school. Also, I demanded sandwiches for this job. Where are my sandwiches, Kyle?"
"And you gave me shit for a crappy bribe? Shit man, at least I bribed you with beer." Kyle retorted. "Okay, so, this isn't even hard, it's just tedious and like... finicky. Tar paper, nails, slate most places. We gotta couple of places we have to deal with the stonework but most of it's, fuck, like, not totally cosmetic but nobody's gonna get water down their bedroom if we do the slate tiles first."
"Don't we need to have mortar and..medieval stuff for this kind of roof?"
"Not the parts I know how to fix." Kyle said. "We could go build a trebuchet if you really want get all fifth century."
"Can I just fling you at the enemy?" Kane joked, but was already slotting and hammering in the tiles.
Kyle considered this for a second, and then shrugged, crouching to start on the odd shaped corner tiles. "Sure. Could be fun."
"We have very different definitions of fun. Rarely do mine involve being an airbourne projectile." He shrugged. "Actually, they most often involve Scarlett Johansson and really tall boots, but I don't know if I want to get into that much detail."
"Again I am gonna change the subject for my own mental health." Kyle said between hammer strikes. "Why are you... even using a hammer. Do you need that thing, or can you just like push nails in with your thumb?"
"I'm super-strong, not inflexible. A tap with the hammer is more efficient." Kane said, driving in another spike with a casual wrist flick that didn't look strong enough to work a stapler, much less a hammer.
"Aw, Superman comics are lying to me? Dammit." Kyle said.
"See, it Superman's skin is inflexible enough that he can drive in a nail without needing to apply pressure, his lips would work like a hydraulic press when kissing. Or going down on someone. I don't read the comics, but did Lois Lane lose her clitoris on their first sexual encounter, or is he just a really selfish lover?"
"Yeah I read Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex too, dude." Kyle replied. "And I swear if you start telling me about all the holes in your walls in your childhood home I am jumping off this roof and seeing if I can heal a broken neck."
"I told you, I don't read comics." He finished the row and shifted the stack of tiles over for the next. "And I was in the Beta Flight program. When my powers appeared, I went to train in a facility right away. Not a single nipple accidentally ripped off a classmate in my background."
"It's an essay... you know what, Harry's better have some goddamn Everclear because I need to never think about today ever again." Kyle flicked a few scraps of the tiles he was carefully trimming at Kane.
"We're seriously not calling a stone mason for this shit?" Kane pulled up another ton of slate, concrete and steel rivets hand over hand via the pully. The load creaked warningly, but only for a moment before the Canadian reached in and dragged it over the cornice and one to the edge of the roof. Apparently, it had been years since the roofs of the mansion had been properly assessed and patched, and all eyes had turned to Kane and Gibney when the chore had been mentioned. The entire mansion was going to owe an epic bill at Harry's after this, or strategic roof leaks could be arranged, Kane thought darkly.
"Depends on how bad it is." Kyle said, distractedly making notes on a tablet. "But, like, the local stoneworkers union has, uh, not the best attitude towards mutants, so." He shrugged. "Its us, or get everyone to go full image inducer for a week." He padded over to one of the marked weak sports and grunted. "Mostly it's like, replace it before it becomes a major problem, so we can take our time with it."
"Title of your sex tape." He pulled off five hundred pounds of tiles like they were nothing. "See, this isn't a mansion, really. It's a friggin' castle. Which means we missed an opportunity not putting in a moat."
"We could. It'd be like nine weeks of mud but we could." Kyle offered. "We'd need a laser shark though, I mean if we're gonna do it, lets do it right."
"I think that reference is older than you, kid." Kane dropped the tiles in front of him. "Show me what to do. With my speed, I can finish before lunch."
"Title of your sex tape, dude."
"Nah, just what your mom-" And the shitty joke died in his mouth. "Fuck, well, I'm the asshole. Sorry man."
"Eh. Not like you did it to be a shithead." Kyle said, trying to shrug it off, though the screech of claws against slate gave him away. "I am gonna, like, take a sec to look up when Austin Powers was made and go back to laser sharks." He pointedly took out his phone and tapped the screen for a few seconds. "Ninety-Seven. I was in second grade. What the fuck."
"It's ok. As Canadians, we learned it mostly in public school. Also, I demanded sandwiches for this job. Where are my sandwiches, Kyle?"
"And you gave me shit for a crappy bribe? Shit man, at least I bribed you with beer." Kyle retorted. "Okay, so, this isn't even hard, it's just tedious and like... finicky. Tar paper, nails, slate most places. We gotta couple of places we have to deal with the stonework but most of it's, fuck, like, not totally cosmetic but nobody's gonna get water down their bedroom if we do the slate tiles first."
"Don't we need to have mortar and..medieval stuff for this kind of roof?"
"Not the parts I know how to fix." Kyle said. "We could go build a trebuchet if you really want get all fifth century."
"Can I just fling you at the enemy?" Kane joked, but was already slotting and hammering in the tiles.
Kyle considered this for a second, and then shrugged, crouching to start on the odd shaped corner tiles. "Sure. Could be fun."
"We have very different definitions of fun. Rarely do mine involve being an airbourne projectile." He shrugged. "Actually, they most often involve Scarlett Johansson and really tall boots, but I don't know if I want to get into that much detail."
"Again I am gonna change the subject for my own mental health." Kyle said between hammer strikes. "Why are you... even using a hammer. Do you need that thing, or can you just like push nails in with your thumb?"
"I'm super-strong, not inflexible. A tap with the hammer is more efficient." Kane said, driving in another spike with a casual wrist flick that didn't look strong enough to work a stapler, much less a hammer.
"Aw, Superman comics are lying to me? Dammit." Kyle said.
"See, it Superman's skin is inflexible enough that he can drive in a nail without needing to apply pressure, his lips would work like a hydraulic press when kissing. Or going down on someone. I don't read the comics, but did Lois Lane lose her clitoris on their first sexual encounter, or is he just a really selfish lover?"
"Yeah I read Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex too, dude." Kyle replied. "And I swear if you start telling me about all the holes in your walls in your childhood home I am jumping off this roof and seeing if I can heal a broken neck."
"I told you, I don't read comics." He finished the row and shifted the stack of tiles over for the next. "And I was in the Beta Flight program. When my powers appeared, I went to train in a facility right away. Not a single nipple accidentally ripped off a classmate in my background."
"It's an essay... you know what, Harry's better have some goddamn Everclear because I need to never think about today ever again." Kyle flicked a few scraps of the tiles he was carefully trimming at Kane.
