12437/Wine and Cheese Party

Wine and Cheese Party
Date of Scene:	11 November 2020
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	A few of the old faces chat over questionable dinner choices. There's no black ops missions going on. The only black stuff is in the plumbing.
Cast of Characters:	Phoenix, Wolverine, Gambit

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Phoenix has posed:
It's getting near nine in the evening. Dinner services are long over and most of the kids have equally given up homework ages ago and are hanging in the rec room or their personal rooms to fluff off the evening. It leaves the staff to fend for themselves in whatever way suits, and for one redheaded headmistress, it's a wine and cheese party for one. Which actually amounts to her having been too lazy to cook or even heat leftovers and is sitting at the counter at her laptop with a sleeve of Ritz crackers, some torn up squares of American cheese, and a bottle of grape juice from the fridge.

"...why? Why is there an order for twenty three cases of manilla folders? This better have been a typo." She can be heard muttering to herself as she runs through faculty equipment requests. "People around here can shoot the wings off a fly with their mind but fat-finger a keyboard."

Wolverine has posed:
Half of the X-Men's resident man of mystery is currently hanging out of the floor level cabinet that normally hides the pipework for the kitchen's large metal sink. The lower half of him, to be specific, which is covered in a pair of grimy jeans and a pair of even grimier boots.

The top half of him is presumably hidden inside the cabinet, tucked under the sink. But it's always better not too assume things when dealing with Logan.

There's the sound of something metal turning something else that's metal, making a slightly-stubborn squeaking noise. This is accompanied by some heavy breathing, and an irritated grunt.

So, probably safe to say the rest of him is there as well.

"Fer the last time, Jeanie, I didn't fat finger nothin'! The kids told me Scott changed the password to the Danger Room, and I believed 'em, because he's paranoid."

More metallic squeaking, and progressively more irritated grunting.

"Oughta give 'em all detention for that... somebody coulda been killed."

Phoenix has posed:
"I didn't say that *you* did." Jean says delicately over the edge of the counter and to the Canadian on the floor. "The Danger Room is a whole other incident. Believe me, Scott's on that. I wouldn't dream of stealing detention issuing duty from him, it's one of his few joys in life. You know how he gets when rules are broken, it's a sacred mission." And the kids already spread horrible rumors about Mr. Summers and his stack of pink slips prowling the hallways.

She sticks a piece of processed cheese onto one of the crackers and chews it quietly while she adjusts another presumed typo on the inventory screen up in front of her. "Thankfully they couldn't have gotten too far into anything without alerting us, but some of the newer students haven't learned to respect the DR quite yet."

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau comes in with a bit of a smile on his face. "Well considering dat Ah fought a long but futile battle wit' Scott ta let me program a live action Clue game in dare, maybe Ah c'n relate. De t'ing jus' screams "Ah coul' be allot more fun if allowed. He walks to the freezer and takes out a ziplock bag of ...some reddish brown liquid that is frozen and marked only with a skull and crossbones. He places this in a large bowl and puts the bowl in the microwave before nudging Logan's foot with his toe. "Yah wan' some gumbo mon ami?"

Wolverine has posed:
"Ouch. Ya didn't have to sic Ol' Extra Credit himself on 'em. They're only kids..."

His gravelly voice muffled slightly under the sink, Logan's tone is still distinctly empathetic. Those poor kids are going to have to watch the 'Danger Room Safety and You' videos again, something that Logan wouldn't even wish on Creed.

Getting his foot nudged, Logan apparently starts suddenly, and there's the sound of something metal clanging against a recently-installed copper pipe.

Judging by the swear word, the 'something metal' was Logan's forehead.

"Dammit Gambit! Hell no I don't want any! Last time I ate that stuff, I damn near cracked the bottom of the toilet bowl!"

"Well... maybe just a l'il."

Phoenix has posed:
"How else are we going to show them the hero life isn't what it's cracked up to be? The less exciting it is, the less we have to stitch them up. So the theory goes. Good evening, Remy."

Jean gives the Cajun a salute of her bottle of grape juice before she tops up her glass. One slender brow lifts at Logan's initial refusal, but her only comment is a quiet, "And this is why we all have our own." Small as the staff en suite bathrooms are, they're a luxurious level of privacy.

"It's been awhile since I saw you, Rem', how've you been? You're looking well."

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau grins a little bit as he thaws the gumbo he made a few days prior out in the microwave and then transfers it to a pot to warm the rest of the way up. "What 'bout yah chere? Dis is more de extremely spicy batch not de 'Mah face, mah gawd Ah can' feel mah face' batch." He says with a bit of a smirk, shrugging. "Ah been okay. Mostly. Actually dare is somet'ing Ah'd like ta speak at yah 'bout, but dis not de right setting, yah know?"

Wolverine has posed:
His repairs apparently finished, the ill-tempered badger clambers back out, scooting a bit before ultimately standing up. Holding a pipe wrench and an older u-shaped P Trap, Logan looks a bit disturbed by what he found inside. Not overly disturbed, but clearly the kitchen plumbing at the X-Mansion sees more interesting wear and tear than the average prep school.

Now that he's out from under the sink, it's clear that Logan isn't wearing a shirt, but he IS wearing a bandana. Fashion is cyclical, and if the bandana isn't in style in 2028, well... Logan will be here when it comes back around again.

"Well I'll be damned... He really IS lookin' well. Maybe we should all give up this whole teachin' thing and try a life of crime. Or maybe he's just been gettin' his eight hours every night."

Logan is a bit vague on what the eight hours entail.

Phoenix has posed:
"Oooh no, I'm good. I choose life." Jean says abruptly to the offer of food, even if her own dinner seems to consist of a homemade Lunchable. "You can cook, but even your mild sets up a protracted war with my Tums. Thanks, though." To his mention of needing to speak, her teasing grin sobers and she tips him a nod. "Of course. Come grab me in my office or just toss me a text, we'll chat."

Logan's remarks brings a ghosted, lopsided grin back to her face as she comments, "What's sleep? At least without melatonin. You don't want an empath like me as a criminal anyway. That's why you boys get to go on the black ops jobs while I get left home with the kids. I'd either feel sorry for everyone or..." She gives her hand a slight wave before burying whatever she was going to say next under a cracker.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau smirks a little bit at Logan and says "Who evah said dat crime don' pay was obviously doin' it wrong." He says with a grin and shakes his head slightly. "Yah wouldn' make a good criminal no mattah what yah power is chere. It's not in yah make up. An' 'Ell not like dat's a bad t'ing. Means dat yah nevah 'ad ta live de life where such t'ings nessicary or even desirable." He stirs the Gumbo a little then pours extremely large helpings into two bowls. He then opens the cabinet where they keep the large pots. Moves several, takes the lid off the third from largest, and retrieves his stash of cornbread muffins.

Wolverine has posed:
"Don't know what yer talkin' about, Red. Black Ops missions? Us? Either you bumped yer pretty little head, or ya got a bad case of nitrate poisoning."

Given Jean's occupation and her current choice of pre-bedtime snack, both seem fairly likely. Way more likely than a simple handyman like Logan going off on an off the books mission, surely.

Setting the not very clean pipe wrench down on the counter, Logan takes the old P Trap over to the nearest garbage receptacle. Fortunately, it's not full, unlike the P Trap.

"I heard a rumor that Pixie was doin' a few black ops missions on the sly though. It's always the ones you don't expect..."

Phoenix has posed:
"No, I just sometimes need to haul out a friend when they're up to their nose in it." Jean says to Remy with a cheshire grin. "But that? *That* I am always happy to do, even if I'll do a lot of yelling once the shooting stops."

Mention of Megan brings a faint cluck of her tongue and a sigh as she drains her glass of abysmally non-alcoholic grape-based liquid. "Not ideally. It's this Metaforce business. But, since I am "too good" for such missions, I'll suggest you should talk to Scott about them. He was making some plans to address them, plans that I am certainly unaware of and uninvolved in. On that note, I shall leave you gentlemen to it. I need to grab some folders I left up in my room anyway and get this report out before midnight so it's ready for morning meetings."

Wolverine has posed:
As is usually the case when finding out that Jean is about to leave a room, Logan looks a little disappointed. But not enough to really be called out on it.

Throwing away the scuzzy piece of pipe, and saying a quick goodnight to the departing redhead, Logan makes his way over to the table and prepares to dig into his late night snack.

"Awright Gumbo... I owe you a rematch. Last one to chug their soup hasta monitor detention this week..."