9276/Happy X-Mas

Happy X-Mas
Date of Scene:	25 December 2021
Location:	Recreation Room
Synopsis:	Christmas Eve in the X-Mansion Rec Room. There are hug wars about.
Cast of Characters:	Monet St. Croix, Gabby Kinney, Rahne Sinclair, Michael Erickson

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Monet St. Croix has posed:
There is a tree up. Various students are coming and going and no doubt enjoying the festive atmosphere. Monet St. Croix has taken upon herself over in a corner where she has a distance between her and the rest of the individuals present, and she's got a book out in front of her that rests on her lap. Occasionally turning a page. If one could make out the title it would be a book on the Christmas Truce of the First World War.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney had been splitting her time between the manor and Gotham to spend time with her friends, and team equally. Or at least that was the attempt. Lately she hadn't been here enough making her feel guilty. All the more reason to show up now. With a bag slung over her shoulder (a backpack naturally) she comes in humming Frosty the Snowman cheerily. Spotting Monet there she flashes a grin. "Hi! Merry Christmas!" There's a pause as she considers with an upward tilt of her head to peer at the top of the tree. "Or other holiday if you celebrate something else? I'm still getting used to these holidays. But! I got gifts!" She swings her bag around while approaching the tree to crouch and pull out various boxes of the same size. "Do you like chocolate? I made sure they're vegan because I know Laxmi doesn't eat that stuff and I guess probably some other students too. Plus, I mean, it's chocolate." With that she offers out a slightly messily wrapped red foil box to offer to Monet. A bit generic of a gift but she got a lot for everyone.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The arrival of Gabby has Monet St. Croix moving to glance up, moving to close her book to rest it upon her lap while taking in the other girl. Trying to place her from a previous encounter, at most having only been in the same area of passing. "Greetings." She would offer stiffly, her english having a French accent to it. "I don't believe I've met you before." She would offer politely to Gabby as the box would be offered forward.
    "Very well, thank you. And happy holidays." Something she was very used to saying.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney doesn't seem at all phased by the fact that she didn't know Monet. The gift is still offered out and when it's accepted she grins broadly. "Oh yeah sorry. I've not been around as much as I should I guess. I'm Gabby Kinney, Logan's daughter." There was little to no resemblance between them save for their dark hair of course, but then it would be rather unfortunate for a girl to look anything like Logan.

"It's nice to meet you!" The rest of the boxes are placd under the tree for later discovery leaving her free to stand up with hands dusting off over her thighs. "Whatcha reading? Anything good?"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
That seems strange to Monet St. Croix. Perhaps she's adopted? Though that goes against what is stated about Logan from the rumor mill. But it's hardly like she knows him more than in passing or training sessions. "Monet St. Croix. A pleasure to meet you Gabby. You may call me M." She would go to offer the book over.

"IT's on the Christmas Truce during the First World War in France in 1914. I find it.. Very reassuring.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney gives a single, curt nod in response. Green eyes dart down to stare at the book offered over and she instinctually takes hold of it to read the cover while Monet explains. "I'm Honey Badger," she informs, "But Gabby is fine unless I'm in uniform." It's then that she glances up to really look at Monet with a bit of burgeoning curiosity. "France? And your accent is French too, right? One of my sisters is French though I don't get to see Rien often."

The book is offered back with a nod. "I know a bit about World War II due to Captain America but I admit I don't know much about the first war outside of the cause being the assasination of Ferdinand. What was the truce about?"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would give a light correction, "From Algeria." But educated in France and by the best tutors, so all the same. "And.. A pleasure to meet you, Honey Badger." She would offer casually. "And a.. Rather unique nom de guerre, I must say." She would dip her head over.

"The First World War was a stalemate by December of 1914. Several million miserable men sat in trenches frozen and filled with mud. They fought, they died for scant meters of ground of space, living in mud and tunnels. On one night.. On one night they did not fight, remembered that they were men and of the fellowship of humanity. They left their trenches, celebrated with one another. For one night the war did not happen. I find it.. Very reassuring that on a level humanity can be decent without prompting. And that there can be good in most of us."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Well we can't all be Wolverines. There's too many of us for that!" Gabby reasons in response to her code name. It does cause her to grin broadly again though earning a few little dimples that help to soften her scarred face. Shifting to plop down in a chair she tucks her legs underneath her totally ruining the whole 'no shoes on the furniture' thing. "That sounds pretty awesome. I can see why you like it! I try to see the good in people, too, so I like that."

There's a stack of similarily sized and wrapped red foil boxes beneath the tree. All boxes of vegan friendly chocolates that she'd picked up for people as a gift. A bit of an apology for not being around as much as she used to be. "That's better than any Hallmark movie plotline I've heard of before."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would smile, "I find it.. Relaxing. Something to read and to remember that we have good impulses within us, even on a collective level. That millions could go out even in that most wretched time and find commonality with themselves when they had been trying to kill one another before.. And would go back to it right afterw ithout cessation. So not the best comparison, perhaps." Tone thoughtful.

"And you have lovely taste in chocolates, Gabby. These are excellent."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
That's when INSANE WUF GIRL comes in, smiling brightly and wearing a little santa dress! She beams! She happies! She spreads her arms wide. Someone's written Free Hugs on her aura and she's owning it.

"Merry Happy!" she belts out, then she pauses as she approaches, uncertain if she's allowed to tackle.

"Also hi."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    It isn't common to see 'Professor' Erickson trawling the corridors in the evening; he lives in the city, and God knows what else he gets up to on his own as a creature not of this earth. He's absolutely /never/ seen without his trademark gray suit and waistcoat - but, tonight, here he is, in tan firehose pants and cafe racer jacket, looking like a slightly fashy, blandly handsome fellow with that haircut of his. Wherever he's trawling /for/, of course, is anyone's guess.

    When he puts his head in the doorway to the Rec Lounge, then, frowning slightly as he looks about - and, of course, finding nobody that he is apparently looking for but, on the other hand, members of the student body and community. A tight smile is offered to the assembly of ladies. What a strange member of the facility.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney grins brightly at Monet's compliment of the chocolates. "Thanks! I like trying new foods so I keep trying them till I find good ones, usually. I like how that brand tastes kind of nutty on some of their dark chocolates. I think it's an Ethiopian bean? I forget." Just as she babbles that explanation the familiar figure of Rahne comes in. There's no hesitation at all: Once she sees those arms thrown wide she launches out of her chair to her feet to fling her arms around the wolf-girl in return.

"Rahne! Merry Christmas! How are you doing it's been ages I'm sorry I've been so busy training lately and--" Here she pauses peering over Rahne's shoulder at the teacher poking his head in the door.

"Whossat? Hi!" An arm lifts to wave in his direction. "Grab a box from under the tree! I got a bunch for everyone."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The sudden appearance of the Ruf in hug mode has Monet sitting back just a fraction over in her chair. Fortunately the Gabby-decoy works perfectly and goes on a full power interception course. This will keep her safe. Pesonal space assured for the moment, the fraction of an inch she had gone back is relaxed, and she would go to watch the interactions.

Michael is given a glance at his presence, and she would go, "Professor." Casually shifting her book to the armrest of her chair.

As Gabby would go on, Monet would mm, "Location is one thing and certain areas have specific reputations. It is also based upon soil type, rainfall, method of cultivation.."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Permission, achieved! Rahne hugs Gabby with surprising tenderness, her head resting on the girl's shoulder. #shortforever She smiles, eyes closed, and just takes a moment of happy.

Then without the slightest warning at all, she lets go with her left arm. Spins to Gabby's side, and leans on the assassin a bit.

"Hoy! Professor Erickson! Ms St Croix!" She has issues with authority. They get their last names. "Want tae get drunk?"

Wut?

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'd outdrink everyone in the room, Miss Sinclair," says Michael as he enters; his leather jacket flutters, demonstrating that he wears some form of holster underneath. Not exactly his normal costume, either. A nod is given to her, though, and to Monet. "Miss St. Croix."

    And then there's Gabby. Michael pauses halfway to the snack bar where Other Drinks Are Stored, pausing as he sees her scarred, pretty face. He says nothing, as it is only for a moment that he might have forgotten that they're old wounds. But he frowns all the same. "I'm looking for the Headmistress, ladies," he tells them. "Has anyone seen her?"

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney leans back against Rahne in a manner that was at ease and familiar with the other girl. How could she not be? They were old friends after all. Much as she had old friends. At least it seems that Monet is safe from further loss of personal space involving hugs for now. The question to them about getting drunk earns a tip of her head to the side as if she were considering it. Then Mike speaks, and her grin deepens. "That sounds like a challenge. Besides, I bet I'd beat anyone here at drinking," she adds in.

Yes, the short girl that looked more like a dancer than a fighter claims to be able to outdrink everyone. Never mind her age.

Monet's explanation garners a thoughtful 'huh' from her. "I hadn't really thought about that. Kind of like coffee, then? That's cool. You sure know a lot!" It wasn't said in a mean way but more of a complimentary one, and genuinely at that. As for the mention of the headmistress she shakes her head. "I haven't seen her but I just got back from Gotham so you guys are the first I've seen. I'm Gabby by the way," she offers toward the professor that was new to her at least. "Nice to meet you."

Then, with a sidelong squeeze to Rahne, she pulls apart from her friend to head for the bedazzled tree to pull two boxes from beneath. One is given to Rahne with, "Don't turn into your wolf when eating these I don't want you to get sick!" Then the other is offered out to the teacher. "Here, I got some for everyone. Merry Christmas!"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
At the offer of getting drunk would come from Rahne, Monet St. Croix would shake ehr head, "NO thank you, I don't particularly care to imbide.." At least amongst this company and without access to liquers of -quality- would be the unspoken term. "I have no idea where the Headmistress would be nor how to find her. If it's not an emergency then I might suggest waiting for after the weekend to contact her." Teachers needed time off too after all.

Monet would smile back at Gabby, "The same with wine. Different vinyards hve different types of grapes, different soil, different amounts of rianfall.. You can taste the difference in wines made by the same vinyard from year to year of th esame type purely by what the weather has been if you enjoy it a great deal."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne releases Gabby into the wild, allowing this. She'll always be around, even if she does wander from time to time. There's something in her eyes though, as she accepts the gift from Gabby. It might even be a tear.

She whispers a soft, warm thanks as she leans toward the wonderful person, then rubs her cheeks to get rid of the silly dampness that's there. She's not crying, you're crying.

Then she turns, looking up at Monet, and at Michael, and just smiles. She doesn't know the answer to any questions but the important ones, it seems. How to be a better person. Who to trust.

Where is my home.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Yes, Miss St. Croix," Michael says as he plucks a bottle of soda from one of the refigerators and plucks the cap from it. "Your mind for proper conduct staggers even the Paryl'aat." Whatever that is. "I am simply asking if she was about. Thank you." Taking a pull from his bottle, the gun strapped to his ribs is much more clearly visible, or at least its black leather holster with elegant patterns silver about its corners. Long barrel, glimpsed for just a moment. Blinks. "Oh," he offers. "Forgive me. Merry Christmas, the lot of you. If you celebrate it." Lord knows he doesn't.

    That said, he leans against the counter. "What are you three up to tonight, this late? I would have thought you to be in bed."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney is momentarily torn between the informative Monet and the curiosity that is Michael Erickson. Or more specifically the unfamilar gun at his side. Having gotten a closer look while offering the box over to him she concludes, finally, "You're military or were military, right?" It's matter-of-fact and blunt as she adds, "You move like military. And I don't recognize your weapon." With such thoughts said out loud she steps back to give the man his space and shoots a look over her shoulder at the other two.

"You guys want something to drink though? There's more than booze. Though I think Rahne probably has better stuff stashed away, right?" Ah, she knew a little something about her friend's interests. "Probably not wine though, sorry."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would just glance at Michael, maintaining a flat look, "Etiquette is the bindings that help keep society together by giving bounds of tradition and appropriateness by decorum. I might urge you to research them." Her tone flat in the matter. And waiting for the doom that is Ruff-Clair to go in for the pounce and kill.
    As Gabby would make her evaluation of Michael, she would muse, "One could also inquire about the slightly divergent bone structure and muscle mass."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne looks left. <.< she looks right. >.> She grins, and then pulls a bottle from the back of her dress. Gabby probably felt it there during the hug, how she knew about it! "Only th' best Scotch Whiskey," she beams. "From mum. Ah promisted" yes she pronounces it like that "tae share it w' friends. Eighty years old!"

Then she looks at the gun, and shrugs. We're all armed. She gets a finger into her chocolate box, then frowns. Take the chance, and turn into a wolf by accident and be awful sick? Or miss out on friend chocolate?

She's chewing before she finishes the thought.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I have been trained in the arts of etiquette for longer than you have been alive, Miss St. Croix," he replies, giving her a sunny smile as he says it. "But it bores me to carry it around with me at all times - a penalty, no doubt, from having been moved from the aristocracy into a military education. You, however, make it an art, and a valuable one. I thank you for your reminder."

    And speaking of military....there's a Gabby. He looks to Gabby, She Of The Questions. "Yes," he tells her. "Before I was cast out of Imperial society I held the rank of Officer, Third Magnitude, in the Shi'ar military, focusing primarily on intelligence matters after my frontline duties in the frontier. Were it the American military I would have the equivalent rank of Captain." A glance at the gun, which he draws from its holster and holds out to her - it's a bit like something you'd see in a Japanese game console in the 1980s. Faceted, but elegant. Black material like ceramic with grips made of a cloudy silver-gray pearlescent material. "You do not recognize it because it is from my home galaxy, Miss Kinney. Do not touch; it has been in my family for over five centuries."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney gives Rahne a nod when that bottle is pulled out. Only for her eyes to widen a bit at the mention of what it was, exactly. "Oh, I'll have a drink then! A little one. Won't get me drunk but it'd be nice to try something that aged!" Plus given Moira she knew it was probably good stuff. Moira seemed like a classy lady. Her gaze turns back toward Mike when he explains causing her to frown a little. It's Monet she first responds to though: "I did kinda notice that but I didn't want to presume. Seems rude to judge someone on their looks, especially when mutations can also be physical. But," she adds to explain for both her and Michael, "I was trained in recon and surveillance so I tend to notice how people carry themselves. Among other things I try not to use the knowledge of...Oooh that's gorgeous," she trails off when the gun is pulled out to show.

She does start to reach out only to snag her hand back when he mentions not to touch. As well as the age. That earns a low whistle of appreciation. "Dang, that's older than dad. Probably. He's pretty old."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would just glance at Michael, "Very well, Professor Erickson." She would have a neutral expression upon her face but not push the detail. They were here enjoying the holiday and there were children present. And Rahne seemed like she was about to get competitive for how many cookies she could consume wiht alcohol in one go.
    "I will let you enjoy your alcohol. It is a gift from your mother and is something to be shared with those close to you." Folding her fingers together on her lap and just sitting back.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne's mind:

Centuries? Decades is ten. Centuries is hundred. Millenium is...nevermind. So, five hundred years? How old is Mr Logan? He's not that old, I'd have ...he's have...how? HE'D HAVE. That's the way you say it. Lord almighty, how can I be in America for six years and not have my grammer down yet?

There has to be ...wait, people are expecting me to talk. No wait, they aren't even lookin' at me. Wait. Monet's looking at me. How did I get into this???

Rahne is standing there, looking slightly distracted. When she blinks, then nods and quietly wanders to the paper cups. To pour eighty year old scotch into. Paper cups.

Someone. Stop her. I'll die.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Once you get to a certain point in technological development, Miss Kinney, material age and wear become a much lesser concern. This one takes in atmospheric gases, extracts or synthesizes hydrogen from it, and then lases that hydrogen into plasma which is then cast down the barrel at the target. But it also can be used as a tool in many ways, which makes it far finer than most of the other weapons in my home arsenal." A beat. "Good for you for your training. Perhaps I might be permitted by the headmistress to evaluate you, see where your gas in education are. Shore them up."

    A look back across the way to where Rahne is busy pouring liquor into paper cups. "M'kraan-eta kaal," he calls across the way, slipping into the home tongue and a weirdly proto-Slavic accent in saying them. "Miss Sinclair, if you pour that into paper cups I will drink it all so you can't have any! Let me go and get some glasses."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney lifts her hand to wave dismissively at Michael's mention of testing her abilities. "I appreciate the thought, but don't bother. She's always been concerned of turning me into a 'child soldier'. The labs tried to train me to be an assassin and I'm not going to follow that route now that I have the freedom to decide my own future." Besides that. How many times had people said they'd test her? More than she could count. Less seemed inclined to actually trust her skills, though those that did she appreciated greatly. Rahne. Illyana. McCoy. Her Gothamite teammates. It felt good to be trusted somewhere.

Glancing over at Monet she grins. "Ah, join in! Part of friends is getting to make new friends and include new people!" She assures with a broad grin. Even if it wasn't really HER alcohol to be giving out. It's only when Michael slips into that other language that she glances over to see what Rahne is doing. "Ooh yeah. Yeah I think dad would cuss at that, too," she agrees with a nod. "Let's get some fancy glasses like proper adults! We almost are, anyway!"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The thought of putting such a treasured thing in a paper cup is a faux pas beyond that which Monet would even deign to call.. but, she's not the one that would be imbiding in such alcohol, nor does she consider herself close enough to the others for it to be appropraite for her to comment on such. If this is what brings Rahne happiness to do so, then far be it for her to interrupt.

So when Michael would interfere Monet would just watch with an ever, ever so minute look of amusement in her eyes that one would need to be a telepath or a natural born killer to get off her face for all the expression that was going on it.

At Gabby's invitation she would let out a sigh, "Very well, if you insist." SHe had been offered an it would be -rude- to decline, after all.

And it was eighty year old Scotch.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
So, it happens that actual fancy glasses are brought. Rahne pours, and the liquid is a soft, deep brown. The scent is deep, a tiny hint of butterscotch perhaps. And she saves some of the bottle for later, since there needs to be other friends given warmth to.

She smiles. She shares, to one and all. And then, she raises her glass.

"Slainte Mhath!" she says, hoping that the others will share their own toasts. This one is hers. Scotland.

(Pronounced Slanj-a-va)

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He takes a glass, which out of politeness has only two fingers of the stuff poured in - and, looking between the young women there, clears his throat. "Out of respect for Miss St. Croix," he says, "I will not make a soldier's toast, here. Instead, I shall say this: M'kraan al st'naat; M'kraan estu bethat. Ya, estaal matsyah su, silan aal aanyatatza." He lifts the glass, then, and translates. "By the M'kraan we meet; by the M'kraan we part. Yet, may our friendships remain as strong and sure as this vintage." Certainly a gentler toast than hat he would make were the Perfect One not in residence of the room. But with it made, he takes the glass up and drains it in a solid swallow.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney accepts her glass as well, and true to what she asked earlier she has not much in her cup. Alcohol was a waste on her so far as getting drunk, but a vintage like this she ought to at least experience. Even if she technically was too young to drink. Legalities. It wasn't her first time doing so. A smile creeps over her as she recalls the one toast she DID know, taught to her by a friend that wasn't always on the straight and narrow. It helped having friends in low places sometimes. Her glass raises along with the others to toast.

"Here's to good friends: Never above you, Never below you, Always beside you."

She waits in case other toasts are offered before taking a sip like a good girl and not like someone who was used to throwing back shots.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would just glance at MIchael, and give a light nod and a slow, slow smirk. "I appreciate your indulgence." As Rahne would go to share some Monet would just close her eyes, listening to the girl girl explain on their toasts.

Monet's tone would be quiet as she would think for a moment,a nd then reply over in softer words after a few moments over of ocnsideration.

"May we have a world where soldiers are no longer necessary." Her not taking so much of a sip as a sniff, appreciating the aged liquer.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Having partaken of drink, and having been suddenly hugged by Rahne, Michael clears his throat and puts the glass down on the table. "Well," he says, settling down in a seat, "All soldierly manners aside on my part, Miss St. Croix /is/ correct. Manners and social structure are the bedrock upon which civilization has been laid." He looks across the way to where Monet sits. "I'm afraid I'm one of those nice arisotcratic boys who was rolled into the military and forgot it all, only to have it drummed by in once I joined the Intelligence Cadres. It sometimes wears on me, when it probably really shouldn't."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney had taken a sip, but doesn't drink right away. She lets it roll around on her tongue and inhales so that the breath mingles with the alcohol helping to aerate it--as she was taught by someone who was raised by aristocracy himself before turning to a life of intrigue. It's finally swallowed, and she lets her tongue lick out over her lips with a little breath exhaled. "That is.... Very... I don't know the right words but good quality for sure I'm guessing." Nodding emphatically she grins, accepts and returns any hug from Rahne given, and looks none the worse for wear over it. Not her.

"Manners are nice, but I dunno. I wasn't really raised for... um. Being social? I'm probably the most well adjusted of my sisters. The ones left alive."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would appreciate the smell once more, barely moving with the liquid several cenimters from her lips in the cup, just appreciating it. Closig her eyes once. "Social constructs are what help hold society together. They give form and function. Purpose and decorum. A hierarchy is traditional for any sapient species which has any degree of individualism."

She would take another light swirl of the ancient drink, gazing upon it while considering. She would look down at Gabby with a frown.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Just so," replies Michael, folding his hands upon the table. "Just so. In the case of my people, unfortunately, they've taken structure and colonialism to a horrific degree. The 'white man's burden', only Shi'ar, and everyone else is considered inferior." He heaves a sigh. "One can be /too/ civilized, apparently, at least in certain permutations."

    He looks to Gabby. "Manners are important for reconaissance and intelligence purposes, too. One must learn the local social customs to blend in, for example. Or the customs of a culture which you are trying to emulate so that you might infiltrate another. That sort of thing."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney either doesn't notice that look from Monet or carefully avoids drawing further attention to herself over it. This was a happy time. Mostly. Her history did tend to make people sad, or at least sympathetic. The talk of the Shi'ar garners her attention as a suitable distraction. "Sounds like some of the issues we've had on this planet, too, then. And yeah--I know. I wasn't really meant to be that sort of recon though. It was..." She pauses, frowning thoughtfully as she stares into her glass. "It doesn't matter. Nevermind."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Now where the talk is going Monet St. Croix has extensive knowledge of.. At least, due to where she grew up and what her family's position was. But she would take note of the change of topic.. "I believe that we are here to relax and enjoy ourselves. These topics are not the time and place for them." Not sure if it was hitting a sore spot or not with Gabby, and mor ethan happy to discuss comparable planetary cultures.. But another time.
    She would glance at the otehr two, "Or would you care to continue to discuss it?" Her having given an 'out' if it was needed.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Quite," he affirms, nodding to Monet. "Well. Miss Kinney, have you a passion for astronomy? I still have slots open in my class, which I must admit I find surprising. It's going to be quite an eye-opening affair."