6311/Rooftop Tower

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Rooftop Tower
Date of Scene: 29 January 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Storm and Forge socialize about invention and tea.
Cast of Characters: Forge, Storm




Forge has posed:
The tower is chilly today, because two of the windows are open. One of them has an obvious large bag of tools right next to it, which would suggest that someone is actively doing something or other.

In fact, a glance outside will show Forge, just to the left out of the tower window, squatted on the roof itself, with a device that looks a great deal like a tricorder out of Star Trek aimed at some of the security sensors. He has his goggles on, a warm jacket, and a focused expression.

Storm has posed:
All but the heartiest plants have been taken farther inside Xavier's. But there are those few who still reside in the area where Forge is now working. The students, having promised to watch over them, have naturally forgotten. And so today, Ororo had originally come to tend the ones remaining. Until she found a Forge.

Storm is not one to be bothered by the weather, or by the cold for that matter. She steps into where Forge is working, raking her hair back as it's ruffled by the wind. "What's got you up here today, Forge? Wasn't cold enough for you on the lawn?"

Forge has posed:
"It's cold on the lawn?" Forge asks without looking up, though a smile touches his lips and curves his mustache to one side. He finishes the scan and looks over, head tilted, and starts to come back in off of the roof tiles itself, to meet her partway. "Give me a hand in?" he asks, offering his broad palm and wrist to her so that she might help him come back into the main indoor tower area. "I'll close these up." He means the windows, letting all of the cold air in.

Storm has posed:
"So I've been told," Ororo replies with a smile. She pulls a wrap tighter around her shoulders and tilts her head, looking at what the man is doing. "What brings you to the roof today? Awfully blustery up here, isn't it?" She reaches out and takes his hand in both of hers to help him inside. "We may have to get you some coffee to thaw you out."

Forge has posed:
"I don't need to be up all night," Forge chuckles at the coffee comment as he takes care to come back into the interior area. He shuts the window, crossing to shut another one, in the slightly warmer room that led out onto the steep roof zone he'd been climbing around on.

"But a warm tea would be welcome, if you're offering something to drink," Forge says finally, after a pause as his gaze slid out towards the rest of the roof. "I've done most of what I needed to. I was recalibrating some of the security system sensors up here: a few of them were off."

Storm has posed:
Ororo presses her lips together and looks beyond Forge, out the window that he has just shut. "The calibration? Was it something caused by natural shifting, or weather perhaps? Hopefully not tampering of some sort, on anyone else's part." She should think they'd have been made aware if that was the case. BUT...if sensors were off, it may not be something that would have alerted them to begin with.

Forge has posed:
Forge chuckles some, "I have evidence of what it was, yes. Just a student power misfired, from what I can see in the images I have," he says, shaking his head. "Perhaps you could keep the gravity-manipulators away from the security equipment? It looked like they were racing each other," he says, lifting a hand to raise his goggles to his forehead, expression deadpan but amusement through his eyes.

Storm has posed:
"Ororo sighs, looking dramatically pained by the news. "This is why we can't have nice things."

She turns back to Forge, then and gives him a warm half-smile. "Well what can one do, but drink?" She winks with that wry grin, and touches his arm. "Shall we get you inside, where it's actually warm, so I can get you that tea?"

Forge has posed:
"Not if I'm imposing on your time. You must have, what, papers to grade?" Forge guesses. He's not a teacher, but he can imagine what horrors it must involve. He collects his tool kit, and starts to remove some of other e?equipment he'd had on: a few things to ensure safety since he'd been on the roof. No sense falling off when there's technology that can prevent it.

"Which subject do you teach?" he asks, conversational in his mild way, letting her lead the way.

Storm has posed:
"History....mythology. Old things that lie in books that still smell like books. It is becoming more and more rare these days, to find books that are not on a screen." Ororo smiles fondly at the thought as she opens the door and leads Forge inside her own loft retreat. It's warmer in there...and much closer than the kitchen. "Any particular type of tea you prefer? I'm afraid I'm fresh out of soda...Or...never purchase it."

Forge has posed:
"Hm. If you do a unit on mythology of North American tribes and groups, I would be willing to stop by to speak," Forge says, after some slow consideration. "Unless you are exclusively focused on foreign mythology." He isn't annoyed or upset, but suspects that the mythology of native Americans may not be at the top of a syllabus. Sad, really.

"What is your favorite tea? Let's do that," Forge says, quiet. He's still working through his items, repacking his case while he walks.

Storm has posed:
"I would absolutely adore an opportunity to let you speak. I am still planning my syllabus for the Spring, so I can work with your schedule to find a convenient time for you to speak. More than once, if you so desire." Ororo smiles and puts a kettle of water on the stove. "I love Earl Grey. But I brew mine with dried lavender flowers, as well. Just a hint," she explains, holding up her fingers to indicate only a smidge. The flames beneath the steel kettle evoke small creaks and clinks from the metal as it heats. Tiny protests as the water begins to warm.

Forge has posed:
Once inside, Forge takes more of a look inside her living space. Her LARGE living space. He takes in the ceilings and the windows with a thoughtful, calm interest. Forge is mostly unreadable when he's in this mode: he surveys things with a detail and attention that most people don't bother with. But it comes from his ability to look beyond just what a thing is, into more of what it does. His gaze pulls far more information, as his very subtle mutation comes into play.

Forge selects a seat near the kitchen where they can still speak while she works on the tea, finishing putting his objects away into the bag. "My Eagle's Nest is open much like this," he comments, with a gesture of cybernetic hand up and across the chandeliers. "It really is; not just holographical."

Storm has posed:
"I prefer simplicity and function," replies Ororo, as she pulls a tin of loose tea from a shelf and scoops it into a diffuser. The tool looks like scissors, but instead of blades, there are two half-spheres which clamp together to form a tea ball, full of tiny holes to allow the water to infuse the leaves. The loose tea is scantily infiltrated with tiny dried purple blossoms, and she closes the ball tightly as the kettle begins to whir the beginnings of a soft whistle.

Forge has posed:
Forge watches her work with the tea ball tool. He reopens his bag to pull out his notepad: a tech object somewhat larger than a tablet with a stylus, and starts to draw a little bit. He isn't obnoxious at all about it: he just had some inspiration come up, and he tries to keep track of those things when they do. Who knows what ideas that even a simple tea pressure tool could cause in the future?

"We can agree on function," Forge chuckles softly as he sketches.

Storm has posed:
Ororo takes note of the sketching, somewhat curiously, but then the teakettle is whistling. "Your mind never pauses, does it, Forge? Does it ever quiet enough for you to sleep? Or is it busy working even as you slumber?" she asks with a soft smile. "And do you take honey, lemon, sugar or cream in your tea?" She is pouring his cup, and swirling the diffuser slowly in the steaming water.

Forge has posed:
Forge looks up, then at his sketch pad, and smiles just a little bit. He finishes what he was doing, and then turns it off and puts it away. "I could see how I could display that," Forge says, relaxing in the chair, one forearm now on the table. "But it isn't always on full blast, no. I enjoy quiet time and meditation. And I find sleep quite restorative and restful. Although yes, there are times when I can solve something in my sleep," he chuckles.

"Honey and Lemon, please."

Storm has posed:
Storm nods and smiles knowingly to Forge as she stirs the ingredients into his tea and sets it before him. "It is a mark of many of the Great Ones who came before us, this ability to constantly think. Constantly reason." She joins him quietly, setting is tea before him as she slowly stirs her own. "And many of them also had dreams and visions which solved problems. It seems, dear Forge, that on may yet become one of the greats. Who knows what they will write of you in the dusty tomes that are taught to the next generations...But I suspect it will be great things."