13534/Schoolin' the Youth

Schoolin' the Youth
Date of Scene:	09 December 2022
Location:	Classroom - West
Synopsis:	Logan doesn't know what to do with a student that acts a lot like, well, Logan. So he dumps him off on the first teacher he thinks might be responsible. enough to deal with it!
Cast of Characters:	Rogue, Logan Howlett

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Rogue has posed:
Just your average Thursday before Christmas break.

Rogue is in one of the west wing classrooms, one of the smaller classrooms on a back corner of the house. It's a nice quiet space for her poetry class, and a favorite of the students because it has a nice view of the backyard and the area behind the garage leading to the stables.

With the class bell ringing, marking the end of the hour, Rogue's five students stand up and all start to gather out of the room.

At the head of the class, Rogue is dressed in a button up dark red sweater, tucked in to a long pleated skirt of a near-black dark grey shade. With leather black boots on that vanish up inside the hem of the skirt, Rogue is speaking in French to these five students, since this is her French Poetry group. She's got her hair tied back with her white bangs braided and hanging at the sides of her face. The kids all reply with soft responses as they start to make their ways out of the room. Rogue smiles and waves before she steps over to her leather chair that sits in the front corner. She sits down on the edge of it, and reaches over to her tablet on the little desk beside it.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"I didn't do nuthin'!"

A young, agitated voice floats in from the hall outside the room that has been set up to serve as Rogue's poetry classroom. Given the quiet, out of the way nature of the place the voices are easily heard from within.

"That bad grammar's enough," the gruff, deep voice of the School's own Wolverine follows, "S'what they call a 'double negative.'"

"But you talk like that all the time!"

"I ain't a student tryin' to better myself, kid. Now, shuddup, we're here."

There's a knock on the door that sounds like it might have tried to be gentle, but with the weight of Logan and his metal skeleton behind it, it's much more jarring than it ought to be. A moment later, the short Canadian pushes the door open and walks in a young student who is only slightly shorter than him. He looks around at the small, gathered class and then across the classroom to Rogue.

"Ms. Marie, you got room for one more? Mister Lincoln here needs a lesson in the finer points 'a things."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's eyes are down on that tablet as she sits on the edge of that chair. She hears them before the knock even comes, but when it does come, she looks up as the door opens and the pair strides within. A small smirk shows on her smoky pink hued lips. "Well, this is a thing, huh?" She asks then as her hands drop down to her lap, both still wearing dark red gloves even if she supposedly has control over the 'touch thing', she doesn't like to leave it 'on' for long periods of time...

Her eyes bounce from the kid to Logan, and back again. "What have you gotten yourselves in to today?" She asks the pair as she stands up and eyes Logan suspiciously about this one.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Rough housin'," Logan explains, giving a grouchy sideways glance down at the kid who has suddenly taken a strong interest in staring at his shoes, "Breakin' stuff. Actin' like a l'il animal. No in'erest in an education. Gave it some thought, figured you could show him a thing or two. Ain't that right, bub?"

The student murmurs something inaudible, before Logan gives him a nudge with his shoulder and he speaks up a little: "Yessum."

Logan takes a look around the classroom before turning back to Rogue.

"So, whaddaya think? Room for one more?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue steps over to the chalk board then while Logan responds. She picks up the eraser and starts to wipe down the board from the French words written on it. She does stop though and look back at the both of them. "I mean... I guess. I don't know how much I can help. I mean this isn't the detention hall." She says to Logan with a grin before she looks to the kid and upnods at him.

"Mister Lincoln, you wanna help me clean up in here for a bit? I gotta get this place in shape since it's gonna be used for another subject tomorrow."

The classrooms at the school often switch subjects, since there's only so many spaces for different courses.

Rogue looks back over at Logan then. "What's goin' on in the woodshop class?" She asks, clearly wondering why Logan wouldn't just take the kid out there to cool off.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Uh huh, yessum," the kid nods his head, moving away from the pair to start assisting with cleaning up. He drags his feet about it, and gets distracted on occasion, but for the most part it seems like he's actually trying to help clean.

When they're far enoguh away from him, Logan steps towards Rogue and tilts his head to mutter under his breath.

"Got a hot streak that detention and time out ain't gonna fix," he mutters quietly, glancing back over towards the boy then back to Rogue, "Needs a moderatin' influence. Figured you've helped with that sorta thing before. Not tryin' to punish him, so much as teach him that he don't need to start punchin' first thing. Kid hasn't got a family. Mother dropped him off here. Knew her back in the day, 'pparently. Before the whole ... "

He points at his head with a finger. Amnesia sucks.

Rogue has posed:
A glance is given to the kid as he takes charge and goes to start arranging things even without her direction. She then looks over to Logan when he approaches and whispers those things to her. It makes her show a sly grin. "I mean... I guess. Dependin' on who you ask around here, I'm still a bad influence." She chides back in a friendly way. "But, I'll be here awhile longer t'day, so he can at least chill and cleanup some."

She turns back to her little table and walks over to it. She gathers up her tablet and notebook, then slips them in to the leather bag that was draped over the back of the chair. She sorts that out before looking back to Logan. "You takin' a more pro-active role in stoppin' aggression before it creates a rage monster?" She chides him with a grin again.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"I just know where that road goes," Logan tells her, leaning back against the wall and letting the back of his head bump against it, "An' that ain't no place for a kid to be. Worryin' that somethin's gonna set you off and when you come to you've got someone's blood on yer hands. Someone you care about. It ain't good. He doesn't deserve it, even if he is a l'il a prick."

The Canuck offers a wolfish grin as he reaches into the lambswool-collared jacket he wears, plucking out a gas station cigar and a box of cheap matches. He bites the end off, spitting it into the palm of his empty hand and pocketing it. Then he lights the stogie, taking a deep breath and blowing a puff of heavy smoke up towards the ceiling.

"Don't mind if I smoke?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue pushes the sleeves of her button-up sweater to her elbows, her gloves ending up at her mid forearms, leaving part of her forearms bare. She looks over to Logan as he lights up his cigar, making her cast him a smirk. "Not supposed t'do that." She warns him, but doesn't seem to be stopping him either.

"Mistah Lincoln." Rogue says then, her eyes going over to the kid across the room. "You wanna pick all those books up off the sofa there and put them on the shelf in the back?" She asks of the boy before she looks back over to Logan. She steps over to him and leans over to whisper. "What's his first name?" She asks trying to hide the fact she doesn't know the kid's full nhame, which has her smirking past the cigar smoke too.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Not supposed t' do a lotta things, darlin'," Logan answers when Rogue comments on the cigar, "If this is the worst thing I'm doin', I consider that a banner day for the ol' Canucklehead."

He watches as the kid nods obediently and starts moving the books, shaking his head a little at the way the rowdy student has suddenly become so agreeable. Maybe Rogue's got telepathy now? She's been hanging out with Jean enough ...

"Oswald," Logan whispers back to her, "Though he hates it. Named after his grandpappy or somethin'. Prefers Oz."

Rogue has posed:
The Belle just smirks at the cigar smoking man. "So edgey. such outlaw." She teases him before her eyes look back to the kid, and. She watches him start to pick up the books and put them on the wrong shelf.

"Alright, well, he can hang out here till it's time t'lock up." She says before looking back to Logan. "You owe me though." She adds in a lower tone of voice before she walks toward where the kid is. "Oz. Lemme help you." She quietly says, taking a few of the books off the shelf he put them on, and moving them up to the one above it. "We have different shelves for different classes that take place in this room. This one is for my Poetry lessons." She explains. "These others are Math and History for some'a the other teachers stuff." She says with a sideways smirk for the kid. "Wanna grabg those two off that desk there?" She then asks of the desk in the front row of the half-circle of desks and furniture used as a school seating within the room. Some kids sat on the sofa, others on the two leather chairs like the one Rogue was using, and three old fashioned wooden school desks, creating an eclectic collection of seating options, just like the rest of the school's style.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Don't I know it," Logan mutters back, remaining at the front of the room in his haze of cigar music as he watches Rogue help the kid. He takes a deep puff of the cigar, blowing out another cloud before he pushes himself off the wall with a low grunt. A glance back just in time would show the door to the classroom shutting, and the woodwork teacher disappearing through it.

Inside, Oz nods his head and starts to move the books to the correct shelf.

"I have math class in here, yeah. These books look more interesting though."

And so, he sets about diligently cleaning up and following Ms. Marie's instructions to the letter.