18363/The Original X-Men and their Mentor gather for drinks

The Original X-Men and their Mentor gather for drinks
Date of Scene:	18 June 2024
Location:	Harry's Hideaway (Bar)
Synopsis:	Old friends catch up
Cast of Characters:	Henry McCoy, Scott Summers, Bobby Drake, Jean Grey, Charles Xavier

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Henry McCoy has posed:
It's early evening in Westchester. A real scorcher of the day with the heat lingering on even after the sun has started to set. Harry's is doing a fairly steady business, folks coming in after work to enjoy a drink, maybe meet with friends. Back at the back of the building, near the hallway to the gaming rooms and the toilets, a large table had been roped off as "Reserved".

Sitting at that table was one Hank McCoy, multiple Ph.D holder and one of the score of smartest people on the planet. But today, it wasn't about science or killer robots or matters of weighty import. Today was for something else. Men and woman, bonds forged in strife and blood and pain and joy, gathering to enjoy a drink together.

Hank made sure that the first rounds were ready - a beer for Bobby, a more upscale beer for Scott, a bottle of wine for Jean and Charles with a glass for each, and some disgustingly expensive Scotch for Warren. As for himself, a twin of the beer he'd acquired for Bobby. To honor his old friend. Hank just hoped that the man's taste in beer had improved over the years, or this was going to be a dreadful evening. And, naturally, one end of the table had its chair removed, a place for a wheelchair to settle in and make its occupier comfortable.

Scott Summers has posed:
Thunk.

The sound of a final dart striking a dartboard can be heard from the gaming room, along with a groan from some poor soul who had decided to challenge Scott Summers to a game. "I appreciate the competition. Have a nice night," Scott can be heard imparting to that recently defeated competitor. There was no money riding on the game. Putting money on something with someone from the general public rarely devolved into peaceful moments when they discovered at some point their opponent was a mutant.

A moment later and Scott strolls from the gaming room. His ruby quart sunglasses on and despite the heat he wears a sports jacket over a stylish polo and trousers. He's business casual tonight and as he approaches the table, Scott's offers a soft smile toward the presence of Hank McCoy along with a nod. Cyclops approaches and extends a hand toward Hank, offering it to shake as he draws nearer to the reserved table, "Doctor," he greets with a polite nod, "Hank, I appreciate you working to get us all together tonight".

Then he offers with helpful intent, "Maybe next time we could do some training together. Two birds, one stone."

Bobby Drake has posed:
"Where the natty ice at!"

Bobby does not drink Natural Ice, for the record, it's just a really redneck thing to say for a guy born in New York who's lived the last two years in, depending on what story you've heard, Mexico or Taiwon or Bulgaria or the moon or, most recently, a cottage off the coast of North Carolina with his three point five kids and wife named Helga.

See, Bobby lives by a certain set of rules, but number one of those rules is never tell the same lie twice because then it's not a good lie anymore. Which is why he's now an Astronaut and/or a firefighter and/or a black belt in a martial arts he created two years ago to combat the ever growing need for martial arts masters for lower level martial artist to gain rank.

No, see, Bobby is more of a Rolling Rocks kind of chap.

Coming into Harry's Hide away wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt with the faded logo of some band from the mid 2000s... we'll say the Killers. Also a pair of flip-flops and also a manbun. With his beard, if not shaved, at least groomed. While his sun tan has only be rejuvenated by hours spent out on the lawn sun bathing rather than doing actual work. There's time, he's young, it'll all work out.

Upon spying his pal back in the roost, he makes his way through the evening crowds with a few stops to greet people, share a laugh, and then finally end up pulling a chair near to Scott. "We are training, bud. We're training for the world series of beer. Which is in October. So pound them back and we might have a chance of beating those cads from Georgia... They start'em young down there." A wink to Hank, "How you both doing? Anyone else here yet?"

Jean Grey has posed:
With the whole of the greater tri-state suffering quite a sweltering heat wave, Jean is dressed-down as she arrives, even if the evening may finally be offering some reprieve. Denim shorts and a green tank-top, sunglasses pushed up over her forehead, it's all quite the alternative from how she usually dresses around school. She even has her hair up and back in a loose ponytail, which is unusual as things go for her.

Beyond that, arriving at Harry's is very much a 'Cheers' sort of affair; this is absolutely a bar where most people know your name, especially if you're Xaviers faculty. Salem is far from the hustle and bustle of the big city to the south. So she lifts a hand to wave back at a familiar face or two as she navigates her way inside, quickly finding the table Hank has set aside for them, and some of the others already gathering. She probably nearly follows Bobby in (but possibly doesn't tip him off ahead of time!)

"Reserved, huh?" Her face lights up in amusement. "You've really pulled out all the stops." They could have taken a 'regular' table unchallenged, no doubt, but this is... fancy!

There are no special greetings as she follows the others to maneuver her way around to a spot at the table, on Scott's side, just pure familiarity. "Been a while since we've done this, huh? Good timing though, I could use a drink or three after a day like this!"

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank was in the process of shaking Scott's proffered hand when Bobby strolls in in classic Drake - and no, not the one from Mississauga, Ontario - fashion. He couldn't help but smile at his old friend, and then with his free hand gestured at Scott. "You haven't developed an ability to be unseen to male Drakes, have you Scott?" he asked with a fangy grin. "Because that would be a secondary mutation that should be studied and probably replicated." he said with another laugh. "Sit down, sit down, both of you. Robert, that making-love-in-a-canoe stuff you favored last I looked is over there, and Scott, I guessed you might enjoy something a little less wretched." he laughed, gesturing to the available drinks.

To Jean, he gallantly gave her a little bow by way of a greeting. "Ah, Red, it's good that you could make it as well. You still prefer vino? I took the liberty of preparing a libation that I believe should meet with your approval." he told her, gesturing to her spot as well.

Charles Xavier has posed:
Harry's Hideaway gives Charles Xavier hope. These days it's thought of as 'bougie' (Xavier has been told Harry having a logo proves this.) but in the early days it was a slightly rowdy college bar he reluctantly let his students go to in acknowledgment of the reality that young people needed a place away from the big bad professor to blow off steam. And then Hank turned himself blue.

All Harry did was install pet hair rollers. Xavier started stopping by once in a while after that out of sheer gratitude of someone showing the poor boy a little humanity. It was still awkward, being awkward. Charles had been in actual dive bars and fit in perfectly. Maybe it was how close he was to home, how it made him think of Mother and his own self absorbed childhood. Charles quirks a little smile, thinking of how often one of his students actually asks him for something like this.

Xavier does his favorite party trick. One second, there's no one at the table, and in the blink of an eye there he is: dressed casually in a green suit, turtle neck, and his slim and sporty x-wheel chair (Composed of a compressed carbon fiber alloy resistant to magnetic attraction for some reason.), a matching blanket wrapped around his legs.

"I've been here the whole time. Robert." Xavier says in that tone of voice that might be a joke and might not be. This is the joke and they always fall for it. "Lilandria did teach me a few techniques last visit, Scott."

Xavier pulls his pipe out of his pocket, though there's no tobacco in it, and holds the end between his teeth, leaning back in his chair.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank's phone chirped for his attention - a sound clip of an Illinois sports fan acknowledging their favorite team - Da Bears. He blamed ^Kate. He glanced at it, then frowned just a little bit. "Our winged friend has just informed me that he is, like, totally is doing business stuff and will be late." he said in an uncanny impression of Warren. "And Charles, my friend, your party trick needs some work. _I_ knew you were there." he said in his normal voice as he tapped his nose knowingly. "I'd like to welcome you all." he said, a trifle more formally now. Then he himself sat down and took a drink of his beer.

Awful stuff, but the things one did for friendship.

Scott Summers has posed:
Bobby's remark earns a glance from Scott and an expression that seems on the tolerant side of amused, "It has been some time and I honestly didn't realize I needed it". There's truth to his words and despite is all, Scott's hand travels to Bobby after the handshake with Henry.

Around his hand goes, greeting each of the new arrivals or those who have already been present. To Jean he remarks with a small smile delivered with a touch of casual warmth, "Feel free to enjoy yourself. I'm our designated driver tonight".

The Professor receives a handshake and a polite, "Pleasure to have you with us, sir". After that Scott seats himself, commenting aside to Jean as she seats herself nearby, "I really like your outfit". Which seems to be more polite than anything else. Soon enough Scott's focus is forward, his beer resting at his fingertips, and his ruby quartz shielded eyes turning from one speaker to the next.

Bobby Drake has posed:
Bobby drops into a seat and leans over the table where he rests his forearms, hands linked together around the neck of a cheap(ish) beer. Bougie is not really Bobberts style, but seeing everyone start to file in, it really did seems a bougie kind of night. "Hah, Hank, you know I love you, bro, but you're not going to get the Rolling Rocks out of my hand." He pulls from it celebratory, then peers as two of the three remaining attendees make their appearance. Both of whom could have been sitting here the whole time fogging up everyone's brains.

Which is why Bobby continues to fall for the joke! "I'm not sure how I missed you with that smart turtle neck, but here we are... Hey Prof, good to see you!"

It's entirely possible The Professor WAS here the whole time..

"Jean, looking good as always. I see you're copying my ponytail.." Motioning to his manbun jokingly, which is about ad dissimilar to her ponytail as a horse is to a car. "Looks better on you, but when is that not true huh?" All the greetings out of the way.

"Thanks for putting this all together, Hank. I know everyone could use a night out." Another sip from his beer, leaning back in the seat with his ankle up to lay across his other knee.

"Oh come on, Scooter, you gotta have at least 'one' drink with us? The mansion is ... right there... like right over there, you can see it." You can't.

Jean Grey has posed:
"I'll drink whatever's in front of me," Jean boasts in return to Hank. While indeed something of a 'wine mom' reputation might not be unreasonable to assign her from her days running the school, she was a little more party-friendly once upon a time (and who knew her then? uh, that would be these good folks!). Scott definitely knows, giving her that green-light to enjoy herself, and her consuming that arm of his in a quickl one-sided hug-squeeze. "Woo!" Drunken Phoenix? What could possibly go wrong?!

For now, the wine is THERE so it is definitely the leading option. And once she has some poured and takes a sip, she demonstrates the gap between said usual habits and Hank's assuredly more upscale and sophisticated palate and sensibility when it comes to this stuff: "Wow, this is really good!"

"Warren's always fashionably late," she laments, before turning on the newly-arrived Profesor with a rather sly grin. "'Techniques, huh?' Bet she did. Xandra's pretty good proof of THAT." There's not a lot of people who would make that sort of jab at the illustrious and dignified Charles Xavier, but Jean knows him too well to let him get away unscathed!

Bobby's remark has her reaching back to flip said bunch of hair over her lifted shoulder, 'posing' briefly as she looks back at him and batting her eyes. "You think?" Then she breaks into a silly grin. "Honestly it was just sticking to my neck. This is some really gross weather. Where's Ororo when we need her?!" That is, of course, not how things works and she knows as much, but it's still fine to complain!

Charles Xavier has posed:
Xavier could, of course, mess with Beast's senses if he really wanted to. He doesn't: it's too personal, too primal for a little gag. Instead the old professor simply raises his pipe in salute, taking a puff of something. It glows. It might be from space.

"Warren is doing good work on the corporate front." Xavier says, trying not to smile at the impression. "I'm glad to see him more comfortable there. I had a few ideas, while in space, for civilian grade augmentations that we'd need real capital to get started. Quality of life improvements." Xavier shakes Scott's hand, trying not to look too bemused by how his first student insists on talking to him like he's interviewing for a job. Bobby gets a pat on the arm.

And a positively fatherly look at the 'man bun'. "That certainly is a decision you've made, Robert." Charles says in the exact same tone he uses with Magneto when he's talking about burning the unbelievers. "The tan is nice. Good to have you home, son."

He's not going to force Scott to drink. He has friends for that. Xavier experiments with a bit of the wine Hank got, and decides to make a game of figuring out the year and house without telepathy, taking a slow sniff of the bouquet and taking a restrained sip.

He does not spit his drink out because he is a master of mutant mentalism. "She says hello to you all, by the way." Xavier says, refusing to be embarrassed. "Tried to run away and join the Starjammers."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank couldn't help but wince a little at the mention of the Starjammers. Potentially loaded topic alert! Time to divert things. "I would like to propose a motion to the table that we absolutely forbid any talk of business for the remainder of the evening. All in favor?" he asked, then waved his blue-and-clawed forefinger in the classic Monty Python "Yaay" gesture. "I'm sorry, Charles, but time and place, sir! Time and place."

"And as a secondary notion, pre-emptive notion to quash Robert at every opportunity. All in favor?" he grins.

Scott Summers has posed:
Jean's side-arm hug earns an amused smile out of Scott. Though it's not too bright or forceful a smile; she does manage to invoke a small one at least. Then it's back to the table-at-large and the conversations that begin unfolding around it. He does notably sip from the bottle of beer that Hank's so generously had waiting for him, but it's plainly obvious that he'll be nursing it throughout the evening judging by the little bird sip that he takes. Enough to wet the whistle and offer a little flavor. It's actually Bobby that Scott addresses for small talk first.

"What we really need is someone from the southwest to pop in to let us know that where they're from it's hotter, but it's a dry heat," Scott's remark is intended to be humorous. Even if it's generally lacking in creativity.

Again his bottle thunks onto the table and his sunglasses shift aside to regard Jean for a moment, a smile offered toward her. Then it's back to the rest of the table and those gathered around it. The mention of Warren earns a nod, but it's Bobby's antagonizing about a single drink that results in Scott lifting his bottle to shake its contents at the other, which are heard quietly sloshing, "I am going to have some of this, but we'll be here long enough that it'll be out of my system before we go. I'm driving," he insists as though that declaration was final.

Scott Summers has posed:
As an aside, Scott nods toward Henry: "I'm in favor". Because of course he is.

Bobby Drake has posed:
Bobby could, if he really tried, probably drop the temperature in most of Westchester county by a few degrees, but that would require a whole lot more control than he's ever really cared to put into his ability to manipulate cold. "Yay for the first one on account of I have no business to talk anyways, so I may as well level the playing field by having everyone be as boring as I am, nay to the second because I don't even know what quash means and I don't know how I feel about agreeing to have something done to me that I can't even spell." He probably can spell it, but ... who really knows?

C's get degrees, he always says.

Another sip of beer, a bright smile directed Jean's way when she flips her hair up over her shoulder in that make-do pose. "I'd wolf whistle, but I grew out of that three months ago. No, I'm a more mature..." Brow furrowed very seriously, patting at the air with one hand and flicking his fingers off the bottle with the other, "..controlled Bobby Drake. Grown, some might say, in my time away from the greater New York area. I paid my taxes this year, even. I know, everyone clutch your pearls now because you just wait until I tell you about my four oh one kay."

The Professors jab at his manbun has him squeezing it in a raised palm, "It's a life choice." Squeeze squeeze. "The tan was sort of... a run off.." Sip, pausing to swallow rather than gurgle out words like a savage, pointing around with the held bottle. "I think it makes me look rather distinguished. It says... I'm a cool guy and I'm here to party, but also want to keep my hair out of my face so you can see the honesty in my eyes."

Scott's continued defiance to engage in hedonism is met with a sardonic smile around the mouth of the beer he's been nursing. "We shall see how that holds up once we're all doing karaoke and you have to listen to me singing Lisa Loeb, sober."

Jean Grey has posed:
Jean sighs dramatically at the report of the Space Princess now keen to be a Space Pirate instead. A tale as old as time. She laments: "They grow up so fast." In Xandra's case, it's not just an expression. There's Shi'ar clone-manipulation techniques and things involved, and she's matured much faster than her biological age would suggest.

This line of conversation, also somewhat predictably, leads her back around to Scott. "Speaking of, it was just Father's Day. Did you call him?!" Corsair, she means. Scott and he only met fairly recently, so who knows how that relationship is going, but Jean is clearly championing the whole thing. Emotional healing, that's a pretty big part of her actual education and gig, on top of, you know, the 'worrying for a friend' part.

Did Jean miss the squash memo? Maybe! Or maybe she just ignores it for the time being. Of course, it's a fine line between work and family among this group. So Scott gets nagged a bit, and THEN she holds up her hands. "Fine, fine. No more Shi'ar or Brood or Sentinels or MLF or whatever else. I'll be good! Proooooomise." Sip!

"I'm very impressed," she tells Bobby, with his announced grownup-itude. From her, it is not even sarcastic. But just in case: "No really, I mean it! It can be so hard, sometimes, to find time to do the 'normal' things while we're facing all the rest of what we do." That said, no one would believe for a second that her financials aren't pristinely managed.

Charles Xavier has posed:
"A Grenache." Xavier says, rolling the wine and pucking his lips. "Nineteen ninety four. Blackberry? Blackberry." Xavier concludes, and takes a more vigorous sip. "Fits Jean's preferred flavor profile."

Charles raises an eyebrow at Scott voting for no work, but that does make sense. "I'll just have to develop a personality outside of the cause, Henry, don't worry about it." Charles says, figuring no one would be interested in the photos right now. All of the ones fit for mixed company have a giant monster in them.

Xavier telekinetically levitates a bowl of bar snacks over. It's just called 'bar snacks'. Fascinating. He takes a few, letting the kids chat for a minute.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank sighed. "If we're not telling Robert to shut up, be quiet, stop being inappropriate - he'll start to think we don't love him anymore. It's quite simple." he said, and then leaned forward to stare deep into Bobby's eyes for a moment. "As I suspected!" he exclaimed theatrically. "His eyes _have_ turned brown for how plena stercore he has become." he said, refusing to translate the Latin for the mundanes. Besides, Charles'll get the joke.

Probably.

"But speaking of suppressing Robert's sense of humor? Do you remember that flight back from, gosh, I think it was one of those nutters with a mind-control circus or something? Where Slim there was nursing three broken ribs, Red over there was a stressed-out puddle of psionic goo, Warren had a hangnail and the NASDAQ lost a few hundred points so he was contemplating hara-kiri and I was flying the Jet? Robert over here _would not shut up_, telling offensively bad jokes one after the other to try to keep everyone's spirits up." he said.

Scott Summers has posed:
"I didn't," Scott answers back toward Jean with a slight shake of his head on the subject of Corsair. He offers a mild shrug in answer, though it's obvious by the frown that briefly works its way over his features that he's wondering if he should have.

Henry bringing up the past mission results in Scott's hand moving to cradle his own torso, where his fingers may rest against those same ribs that are mentioned. Though he's midway through a sip when Hank mentions Warren's hang out. By the time the bottle moves from his mouth, Scott's left pursing his lips tightly together to prevent anything from being accidentally projected outward. The back of a hand soon finds his mouth and he wipes away the few drops that threatened to escape.

Once he's aborted the possibility of spraying beer across the table, Scott's hand lowers and he remarks with a small smile cast toward Henry, "Let's not forget you were sour, too. I think your hair had been singed, hadn't it?"

Bobby Drake has posed:
"hah! Oh, I remember that!" Bobby points across the table at Hank, practically over flowing with jubilation despite the fact that was a pretty horrible event what required his very best 'jokes not to tell in school'. Who would give Bobby Drake a book full of dirty jokes for his birthday anyways? What were they thinking! "Warren was groaning so loud, I thought he was constipated, which.. I mean he may have been, when has anyone ever seen that guy eat a green leafy vegetable?" Still smirking, he sips a bit off his beer and waves it around expressively.

Ankle still resting on his knee, leaning back enough that the front two legs of the chair are rocked up off the ground a few inches, support by his flip-flopped foot on the table leg. With a laugh, "Scooter kept scowling back at him, 'BOBBY, I swear if you don't knock it off, you'll be running simulations until you're thirty'." It is, arguably, the worst impression of Scott anyone has ever done, excluding, perhaps, the scowl and talking through clenched teeth.

Still snickering as turns his beer up.

Jean Grey has posed:
"Well whatever it is..." Jean endorses Charles' analysis of the wine by promptly pouring herself some more once she's finished the first glass. She's clearly embracing the plan to have a fun evening! That said, the arrival of bar snacks via invisible shenanigans is also very well-received. Better to drink with food, right? And since he's doing floaty-floaty stuff, she feels quite entitled to finger-wiggle at the bowl, bringing a few morsels floating through the air toward her mouth! Omnom.

With a crunch as she bites down, she looks over at Scott and his somewhat muted answer, echoing it with a reassuring smile. "It's OK. No need to rush- he doesn't really strike me as a big Anniversaries and birthdays kind of guy anyway." Despite the earlier gentle 'nagging,' the script switches around here. Also: this conversation topic is grandfathered! She's not breaking any rules!

The old time mission reminiscing gets a distinctly different reaction from Jean: "I distinctly do NOT remember that..." Her brow furrows. That said, the statement alone IS sort of evidence for her being left as a puddle of psionic goo, and her little thoughtful furrow eventually turns into a frown. "I really wish that didn't happen so often."

Charles Xavier has posed:
"Ringmaster. Uses a hat to simulate low end hypnosis. A little weaker than Mesmero but better with people." Charlies says, as if quoting from Cerebro's crime computer. He did write all the entries. "Circus of Crime has produced major threats including Swordsman, Hawkeye, and Princess Python but lacks the ambition to go for the really big jobs."

"What I remember best is waking up to the five of you trying to pretend everything went fine." Xavier says, trying to figure out what the ginger tasting cracker actually is and why it's being served with salty peanuts. "At first I thought you'd all decided you couldn't tell me when you'd had a trying mission, which was a little ridiculous since I paid the medical bills and had the hospital wing logs. Now I think you were just embarrassed. This was just before the Factor Three case got serious, if I remember correctly."

"You're always a 'cool guy', Robert." Xavier says, having been holding onto that one.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank nodded to Charles. "That's the one. And not _only_ was I sporting some second-degree burns on my skull I had to fly the Blackbird with my feet. Which, I will confess, was hardly a hardship for me." He glanced over at Scott, who as he could recall had a distinct dislike of piloting the Blackbird with anything but one's hands.

"Jeannie, my dear, perahaps it is untoward of me to mention it but back in the day you had a really distressing habit of blocking with your face." he said, gently teasing his old friend. "One hopes your shielding technique has improved vastly since then."

His metabolism being more arduous than anyone of the people around the table save for Jean on a psi-bender, he put an order in with a passing waitress for food. "I should also inform you that, in a breach of tradition, Charles will not find himself stiffed with the bill for this excursion." he said solemnly.

"Warren will."

Scott Summers has posed:
It may be a rare gift, but Bobby's impersonation of himself results in Scott suddenly smiling. Prominently. The impression is so bad, that it's great. Though his attention turns aside to regard Jean and, by extension, her answer directed toward Hank, "We were young. We were working through a lot," he says with a measure of reassurance.

To Jean, Scott's attention shifts more directly. He considers her comment and offers a nod in joining with it before Scott answers the observation, "That's basically my thought. He doesn't seem the sort". Which might be an inherited trait.

Though the mention of flying the Blackbird with his feet does earn a glance from Scott, the ruby tint sunglasses settled onto The Beast, and Scott offers a slight shake of his head at the mention of Blackbird feet-piloting.

Xavier's remark about pretending everything went fine earns a frown, along with Scott taking a drink. Mention his failures, he may just drink more it seems. The bottle thumps down again and Scott answers the Professor's point of view, "We learned a lot from that mission though and we were able to get out of it harried, but in one piece. It was a good learning experience for all of us. I like to think some growth came from it, sir."

Bobby Drake has posed:
"Ayyyy..." Bobby double finger guns at Xavier stealing one of his own, older, go to jokes. Even grinning entirely too big for the cheesy joke, "It's true though, I make everything a little cooler by proximity." Though things shift, if only slightly, to them being embarrassed, "No, that wasn't it at all. At least I wasn't. I was... what, like fifteen? I still had that 'snow man' look everytime I went freeze snap." He shakes his head, pale blue eyes turning downward as if that is embarrassing, "It was not a good look for me."

"Except around the Hollidays."

Where SOME OF THE PEOPLE IN THIS CIRCLE would dress him up as Frosty the Snowman.

He cuts eyes at them, trying not to grin. "Ah, yeah. Ringmaster. Whole set up wasn't even entertaining.. a circus with only the one clown." Tutting his tongue off the roof of his mouth in a faint clucking sound of distaste. At least until they're dropping the bill on Warren.

"In that case, I'm ordering so better beer."

His chair clanks to the floor and Bobby hoists out of it to go grab another round, walking backwards a few steps, "Steaks all around, right? Hey, Harry, what's the most expensive whiskey you've got back there? Warren's paying for it, so we can go all in." Spending other people's money is almost as nice as having your own money.

Jean Grey has posed:
Jean scrunches up her nose at Hank's comment. "I did not!" ... "Well, maybe a little!" Annnnnnd now she goes on a bit of a rambling tangent, defending the whole thing, while gesticulating somewhat with her wine glass. "Defense is a lot harder than offense, when it comes to telekinesis! Pre-emptive forces are a lot more abstract to envision, more complex, and if you're trying to react in the moment, to catch a bullet, that's a suuuuuper narrow window. It's hard!"

It's definitely far from hard THESE days, although some of the trade-off there may not be all that desirable either.

The grandfathering also still seems to be going so, and Jean has a strangely specific piece of advice on the 'absentee but for pretty damn good reason father'-front. "You could just try over a football game. He likes the Bucks!" She's willing to aim lower here, in terms of bonding and emotional depth. Whatever works!

"I liked Bobby the Snowman! With yer little booties! Heeeheee!" Jean is happily distracted from both serious emotional baggage and reminders of getting hit in the face by this ancient imagery. She also echoes the confirmation that Warren will be handling the bill with a very loud 'woo!' and a subsequent encouragement of Bobby's plan to really hit him in the wallet. "What can we get? What's the faaaanciest thing?" Probably, there's nothing on the menu that can even compare to the bottle service prices their feathery friend is used to absorbing, but it's... the thought that counts?

Charles Xavier has posed:
Here they are at work after all. Xavier's eyebrows furrow as he feels he's hurt Scott by mistake, and decides to push the envelope to make sure that isn't so. "Of course I do, Scott. It's why I played along. I was."

Xavier leans back. "I was a lot back then. 'Tardiness will not be tolerated.'. I suppose a part of me still thought one day I'd just stand up out of that chair and be able to help you all in the field." Xavier nods at Harry, who knows how he likes his steaks. "I was learning as much as you all were, and one of the lessons I had to learn is that you all had your pride and I needed to respect that."

"Thank God." Xavier says in regards to who's footing the bill. He IS late, after all. Those are the rules.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank decided to leave his beer to Robert and promptly stole the absent Warren's Scotch. It wasn't the shoot-it kind of Scotch but he took a shot anyway. "MUCH better." he said, mostly to himself. To Charles's own face Hank did his best Charles impression. "Fifteen demerits, Mister McCoy. I thought better of you than the careless destruction of Mansion property." he said, then reverted back to his own voice to laugh. "I took the fall for that, but it was a team effort from McCoy and Drake, slagging the backyard grill by juicing its propane supply with something far more thermally energetic. Besides he was _right there_ to put it out if things _really_ got out of hand." he said with a wheeze of laughter. Warren wasn't there to tell tales out of school, Jeannie protested blocking thoughts with her face, Scott got a reminder of flying the Blackbird with his feet not being to his liking, and oppressing Robert was practically a team past-time.

"Despite risking our lives on the regular, I don't think I would trade those days for anything." he said to his oldest and dearest friends. Sentimentality, thy name was Henry.

Scott Summers has posed:
"We've all grown a lot," Scott answers back to Charles, nodding once as though that nod and those words would include Charles himself in the statement. It was true, after all.

Hank's remark on the subject of their shared past does earn a stoic nod from Scott though. It's clear that he's in agreement, even if in his own quiet way, "I'll sip to that," he says with a lopsided smile. He lifts his body in salute to those around him. His head turns and sends his ruby quartz covered eyes around to Jean and Bobby, along with Charles and Hank. Even Warren gets an absent, but no less honorable, glance.

When Scott's hand lowers, it's so that he may drink from the long neck of his bottle. A moment later the bottle thumps down again, along with a comment toward Jean, his smile again renewing itself as he sends a nod her way before commenting, "It's good to see you relaxing". Like he's one to talk on others being able to relax.

Bobby Drake has posed:
Return of the Bobby.

With a glass of something expensive (by his standards anyways) in hand to retake his seat with a glance around at everyone laughing... Well Scott is grinning, but that's about as good as a laugh from him right? "Okay someone told a joke and I missed it?" Sip. Resume leaning back in his chair with his foot once again crossing his knee, only the oposite this time.

"I miss those days." Unaware that they'd already covered that on account of he was ordering food and more drink which should be along directly! "Things got too real once I grew up.." He actually says that as if he genuinely believes he's a grown up! Rocking to and fro on the chair's back too legs. "You know, I had a little bar on the beach down in Mexico? Use to wake up with the sunrise and spend my entire day chatting up tourists for a living.... someone remind me why I came back?"

Jean Grey has posed:
Maybe it's not entirely surprising that, all her other wine-fueled distractions aside, Jean comes back to the central conversation to offer a defense of the professor. "Well, we were kids! It wasn't always easy or fun, but the structure was imporant. I think we really needed it." Of course she'd defend the demerits. It's not like little miss perfect was usually the one getting them!

Less cynically, there's the fact that she's now had her hand at doing the job herself, and time to appreciate the challenges. "If anything, we had it easy. Smaller group, clearer goals..." Where a moment or two prior she was giggly, the redhead has now turned toward introspection, staring into the depths of the dark liquid in her glass. She traces the lip with her fingertip, and perhaps, for the very briefest of moments, one might catch a sort of flickering there, as she idly 'plays' with the molecules there.

Then she drinks the rest!

"Wait, were we toasting?" She looks back and forth among hoisted glasses, and hastens to a refill. Really, this just amounts to sped up drinking, and soon comes with a boast back to Scott: "Oh I'm feeling very relaxed!" When she's not drinking, she's leaning now, a little lopsidedly, with an elbow on the table and her hand propping up her face, while the other swirls her glass. "The greater gooooood, Bobby. The greater good. But a vacation is nice sometimes. S'why I'm gonna take one. Mrm. Before..."

This time, she obeys the prior motion. Or maybe she just loses the thought?

Charles Xavier has posed:
"I liked that grill." Xavier says, a bit impressed at the prank if he's totally honest. "Cain burned his hand on it once. I never should've looked the other way when you snuck Trish Tilby in after hours."

"I imagine, Robert, because you watched the news." Xavier finishes his cup, and thank the lord the food is here. Jean might need to float home. Xavier takes his steaks in different ways depending on where he gets them: at an upscale but homey place like Hank's, rare with a simple salt and pepper crust and a thyme butter compote. Asparagus seems to be the vegetable of the day. "I can trust in your inherent goodness as long as it doesn't involve my property."

Toasts, eh? "To this moment, then." Xavier says, a little grandly. "Something to hold onto as the future comes ever onward."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Hank looked over to Jean. "Before ... you grow tired of Jubilation and the others proclaiming that "Miz Grey will see you now." he said with another small laugh. Intellectual curiosity was a helluva drug. Hank actually got _so_ bored once that he read Fifty Shades of Grey. And then felt some profound misgivings about his life choices.

But it was time to properly sip at the Scotch and try not to die of hunger before the steaks could be delivered. "We were all so young." he mused, wallowing for a moment in who he was then - much less blue, able to go out in public far easier. Weaker. Slower, Less agile. "Except for Scott. Scott may have been chronologically youthful but I'm not sure one could have ever accused him of being young." he said with a smile to soften any sting.

"To the moment." he echoed, holding up his glass of Scotch.

Bobby Drake has posed:
"The greater goooood." Bobby repeats it in a nasally voice meant to sound like one of the alien squeak toys from Toy Story. 'The claaaaaw'. He grins over at lopsided Jean and rocks back in his chair just a shade more, flexing his calf to keep his weight suspended. "Nah, I'm glad I came back when I did. I was at risk of becoming comfortable in my new life.. I even learned a new language. It's just Spanish, but it's a start!" Unlike his coleague who all know twenty or thirty languages.

And trade skills.

It is, as usual, Charles who hammers the nail and Bobby nods. They'd agreed not to talk business, "Dang that news, always ruining perfectly good things." He murmurs into his glass before realizing there's to be a toast. So he hoists it up instead, "Oh, I've got this one!"

He clears his throat, "Never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if you must lie, lie in the arms of the one you love. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must cheat, cheat death. And if you must drink, drink in the moments that take your breath away.." Glass held out in all of their direction. "I'd say 'aren't you proud of me being so clever', but that's from Hitch."

Scott Summers has posed:
The toast is made and Scott's nod is cast to the table and those around it, "To the moment," he echoes, before adding his own addendum to the declaration, "and family".

The bottle settles back to the table, but Scott's fingers remain in contact with it. Perhaps enjoying the cool touch. Perhaps enjoying the feel of the condensation that clings to the bottle's exterior. For now Scott goes quiet. All the better to observe and listen to those around him - and beyond. He keeps a casual eye on their surroundings, acting as the sentry for his friends and, in truth, family while they're otherwise predisposed toward their socializing and merriment. While anyone would be a fool to try anything outrageous with some of the individuals present, that doesn't mean that Cyclops will put his guard down.

Though Hank's remark about him does at least snap Scott from his moment of vigilance and stern, yet calm, glance is cast toward Hank. His expression remains like that of a disapproving father, but the slight shift of a lone eyebrow upward seems to put a dent into the severity of the expression, "I have fun," he says in perhaps the weakest defense that one could possibly muster when defending their youthful exuberance. Or lack thereof.

Jean Grey has posed:
"Yeah that's it..." Jean agrees, completing the prior thought, given a little prompting by Hank. And while she's normally very good about not 'overhearing' thoughts, the alcohol has possibly compromised her to the point where she accidentally gets a little bit of the rest of Hank's musings. Or at least, that might be how one would interpret her rather sudden bit of blinking and surprised, shocked, and partly blushing: "Hank!"

Then she follows the line of conversation back over toward Scott, who is on the receiving end of another bit of ribbing. Not unlike with Charles, she seems a bit more 'protective' now, and shakes her head, rather emphatically, in what seems an absolute, thorough rejection of the premise. "Oh no, Scott was verrry different. He's grown up so much... in good ways... but you don't know him like I dooo..." And this is where Charles is probably glad HIS filters aren't equally impaired! "He can be a lot of fun."

Ahem!

But the last seems to verge back toward the more wholesome, washing away both whatever prior self-absorbed and moody 'contemplate the universe' moment, or the subsequent swing the other way toward the risque. So, well, she just happily joins in the toast: "To the moment, friends, and family!"

And she will DEFINITELY need some help home!

Charles Xavier has posed:
Xavier forcefully locks his brain down when a drunk Jean Grey talks about Scott Summers's wild side. He absolutely does not need to see that, whatever that is. Nope. He's good. He managed to make a subtle joke about his own sex life and that's plenty. In fact maybe he should erase that from their memories.

Just kidding. Xavier busies himself with his wine as everyone gets sentimental. It's good. He can plan a war tomorrow.

"Someone's going to help her to the car, right?" Xavier mutters, tapping his wheels as if to show why he can't.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The food is served and things devolve into a companionable meal between friends. Warren texts again, to apologize for not being there, so very sad, Drinks are had, laughs, teasing between old friends. As the night wears on, the five of them can just relax, enjoy the time spent with people they've spent a good chunk of their lives with. Fought with, bled for and with, made a lifetime of memories with. And most of them aren't even forty yet!

There may have even been karaoke. Complete with awful takes on Lisa Loeb.

It's a secret.