9161/Reflections

Reflections
Date of Scene:	11 September 2019
Location:	Breakstone Lake - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Kurt and Shannon chat about heartaches, friendship, and maybe--just maybe--the chance of a theatrics class, all over a good campfire meal!
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Nightcrawler

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Nightingale has posed:
     The rest of the day had passed uneventfully, much to Shannon's relief, even if she was a bit worse for the wear for her night in the medbay. True to her word to Sam, Hank, and Hisako, she had mostly taken it easy for the day, sticking close to the mansion while she was still on crutches. But if there was one thing she had learned to dislike, it was being cooped up. Surely, she reasoned, a walk to the lake wouldn't be amiss, so as she took it slow? Leaving a note in her dorm in case anybody was looking for her, she hobbled her way outside on crutches, opting for a looser, newer pair of jeans instead of her favorite ribbon-embroidered ones. Those were in need of cleaning and repair, sadly.

     The sun was just setting on the lake, and it was incredibly peaceful. She took a deep breath of the air, savoring the scents of nature in the earliest beginnings of autumn, the chirruping of crickets slower but no less melodic in the cooling air of the season. She had on a simple white t-shirt, loose-legged jeans, and flip-flops, her sneakers also long overdue for a cleaning from the prior night's events. The peace of being out in nature made her smile; she could understand why some would choose to live out here for a time. True to her word to Sam, too, she kept a notebook with her, though for what purpose might not be readily apparent.

Nightcrawler has posed:
    It be a surprise to find Kurt out by the lake. A firepit dug, burning merrily, sticks with something most likely extremely southern German roasting, and a pan with even more German food sitting on the rocks nearby, sizzling and popping. Marlene Dietrich is crooning in his native language and Kurt is resting, propped on his elbows and staring into the sky.

    Frankly he looks at peace. More so than he has in weeks. The old channeled sadness, and contained rage quelled and replaced with a serenity that is spoken of in volumes in the smoothness of his features. A bottle from the cooler close at hand is held in his tail... a shot glass in hand, and stubby brown bottles remain floating in melting ice. He doesn't even notice Shannon yet, but he's clear to see

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon had seen that channeled sadness right from the first day of meeting Kurt, the day she snuck into the danger room only to find a wild, crazy scenario under the big top. That was a time she would always remember with a smile, an expression which graced her youthful features now--and a welcome change from the grief that had haunted her features since the last Sentinel attack. The smells hit her next, and--much to her embarrassment--her body decided to remind her she'd forgotten to have supper, to the tune of tell-tale growling in her general vicinity. She holds back, though, loath to disturb what must surely be a rare moment of peace for Kurt.

Nightcrawler has posed:
    Poured and drunk in a quick toss, Kurt sighs, looking at the sky still as his tail opens and cracks open one of the stubby bottles. He hasn't noticed yet, apparently sucked into Doris Day.

    "Say nighty night and... kiss me. Just hold me tight... and tell me you'll miss me... While I'm alone and blue as can be... Dream a little dream of me" taking time to rotate the cooking, stick or pan, he takes a moment to look around himself, glowing eyes flicking when he spots Shannon, the gloom just as good as day to him,

    "Ach! Mein Damme!" giving an embarrassed chuckle, "Please, come und sit. Rest und be warmed at s'fire. ja?" head tilting at the sight of the crutches.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon smiles, recognizing the song easily. It's too tempting to not join in, and really, was there any good reason not to when chances were that she would be spotted anyways? Her soft, silky alto voice joins in with the next verse.

"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me..."

     Kurt's offer is met with a wry smile and a light chuckle, the innocence in her eyes no longer quite so pure as it had been when they first met. She finds one of the larger rocks to sit down on, keeping her left leg extended for some measure of comfort; her left ankle is wrapped up, though to land her on crutches, one wonders if that is the only injury she's dealing with. "Danke," she replies, laughing a bit. "A good word in any language, no?"

Nightcrawler has posed:
    "Bitte schoen, kleines Fräulein." Kurt blinks at the look in her eye, and he considers a moment his tail offering the opened bottle that he hasn't sipped from. "You look like you need it, no?"

    He gives a moments consideration before adding, "Und don't tell anyone I gave you that if you take it." snickering, "What troubles you, turtledoff?" accent a little thicker with recent time back in the homeland.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon's eyebrows go up, and she hesitates a moment. Would this hinder her healing ability? She tilts her head, considering this for a moment, then just shrugs, and smiles. If a hot toddy during a bout of the flu didn't do any harm, a token sip or two to be sociable probably wouldn't either, though to finish the whole bottle would probably be unwise. She curls her fingers around the bottle and smiles, raising it in salute. "I heard nothing, I know nothing."

     Taking a cautious sip, from the bottle, she lofts her eyebrows. "This isn't too bad. Wonder how it'd be to cook with." So perhaps she wasn't unfamiliar with alcohol in the context of cooking, at least. The fire snags her gaze and for a moment, she allows herself to be transported to a simpler time by the crackling of the flames. "Just a lot happened this week. The Sentinel attack... being unable to help Daniel... a lot to process right there. But not without help. And then the incident near the club in Mutant Town last night. That one wasn't so bad, just a little odd."

     She gazes into the fire a little longer, taking another sip from the bottle. This was some good stuff, to be savored rather than knocked back all at a clip. "I haven't been out by a fire like this since the day my healing mutation manifested," she murmurs. "A simpler time. But... I wouldn't trade being here, and everyone I've met, for anything."

Nightcrawler has posed:
    "Its fery good to cook vit, Shannon." Kurt chuckles, "It's from mein homeland... Enjoy." He listens to the recounting, brows knit "Personally I think you deserf a whole bier, last few days that you'f had." cracking himself and taking a long pull.

    "What happened then, the last time you where by a fire?" brow knitting at her comment about trading. "Und truth be told, sometimes I would... Just to know what I would be without the ears, or tail or teeth... Or." he trails off, curious but not melancholy. Golden eyes on her again, intrigued.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon tilts her head as she listens to Kurt, her brows knitting slightly. She regards those very features without any hint of fear or nerves whatsoever, and in point of fact, if anything she actually smiles a bit. "But you do have all those things," she offers, her tone a gentle one. "And without them, think of it. Would you be here now? Would you have touched as many lives as you have now, and likely most of them for the better? Think of those you have been here to teach, and how many more lives they've touched in turn." That smile widens somewhat, a short laugh offering a bit of mirth to cheer the otherwise pensive moment. "Speaking for myself, anyways, that time I snuck into the danger room has become one of my more fond memories. And it did more good than you realize. But it wouldn't have happened, if you were not as you are." She looks about to say something else on the matter, but hesitates, turning her gaze to the fire once again.

     "The last time I was by a fire like this was at Camp Pinewood, back in Connecticut. It was an all-girls' summer camp. I was fourteen at the time. My best friend at the time and I were by the fire, and she was keeping an eye on some water boiling. It started to boil over, and when she tried to pull the pot off the flames, she lost her grip and it splashed all over the front of her." She frowns slightly, looking down at her hands. "I went to put a wet compress on her and found out the hard way about my gift. It freaked her out, freaked the counselors out, and I was sent home. Never heard from her again, either. The wings came in later that summer."

Nightcrawler has posed:
    "I'm sorry they reacted that vay, und I'm sorry if I seem selfish. Ja - those things wouldn't haf happened But I also wouldn't haf been sold to a Texas CEO like an animal... I wouldn't haf been thrown in a ditch to die so my... My..." The rage. The anger, the sadness. It's all there, in a flash. The way he spits out the next word, as if he were casting out a poison. "Mother... could run... und hide." it's always just below the surface it seems, even at his most serene.

    "Yes. Shannon. Knowing the experiences I haf had vit you, und so many others, all the lives touched... Sometimes I would gif it all up... to know real lof und acceptance my entire life... und not after hafing to be saved by Charles." the first beer is gone and he is rotating his food again.

    "I am making wurst, und schnitzel if you want, more than I could eat in one sitting, More than welcome, Turtledoff."

Nightingale has posed:
     The rage and grief fairly rollng off of Kurt brings tears to Shannon's eyes, trickling down her face. Without a second thought, she leans over and draws him into a brief hug, extending her wing around him as well. "God... I am so sorry. No wonder mentioning family that day hurt you so much. When you spoke of having had a happy childhood... I had no idea." Her brows furrow, and she just holds on for a moment longer, if allowd to do so, before he has to pull away to check on the food. "Nothing can take the hurt of those years away. But by the same token, nothing can take away the years you have now, the love and acceptance, and the friends you have here now."

     The savory aromas wafting over from the fire, accented with the sharp, yet somehow comforting smell of campfire smoke, has her stomach growling again, and she offres a lopsided grin. "Wurst, I've had, but schnitzel will be a first. Danke."

Nightcrawler has posed:
    He lets her hold him, sighing and even leaning into the hug. "I know... I know. It's a what if, could it, might it situation." one hand raising to rest on one of her arms until, yes, he has to check the food.

    "German veal cutlet, most of the time it is made wit pork, because hit is cheaper ja? Well... I haf extra money." Kurt grins again, calm, the poor feelings, buried under pleasantry. "Goes very gut wit dat bier ja?"

Nightingale has posed:
     She chuckles a little bit and shrugs, glancing down at the bottle in her hand, then at the pan on the fire. "Smells like it might. Wouldn't know, though... I've never had the stuff." Shannon knew all too well now that there was a lot of feeling buried just under the surface, beyond the jovial exterior. But it was not something she'd bring up readily, though she was more than willing to listen, and offer what comfort a friend may.

     She does hesitate a moment, though, nibbling her lower lip as if considering something else. "Don't suppose there's any word on if there's going to be that theatrics class this semester, is there?" It's almost as if she's a little one at Christmas again, wondering at the existance of the North Pole and the wonders found in that mythical workshop.

Nightcrawler has posed:
"Not yet that I know alas, but I need to get Jean or someone pulled aside to really discuss it, ja?" splitting the schnitzel and putting a wurst on a plate for Shannon before supplying cutlery. "Dig in turtledoff, home cooking from a home thousands of miles away, ja?" Kurt fixes himself up a plate and pours himself a shot of the clear drink from the bottle in his tail, tosses it back and then looks back to Shannon.

"Ok. Cut a bit of schnitzel, a bit of wurst, take a bite, a half mouth of beer, chew und swallow. Its gut. Trust me, no?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Those large, feathered wings droop behind Shannon, and she dips her head a little bit. "Oh." The disappointment is plain, but she doesn't make a big thing of it. Instead, there is a more pleasant focus in the good food and good company, with the advice taken to heart. She tries a bit of the schnitzel, wurst, and beer all together--and looks as if she went to heaven. "Oh... wow." A light giggle escapes her, and a little sigh of delight as she enjoys the treat. "That is heavenly!"

Nightcrawler has posed:
Kurt Wagner bobbing his head, he chuckles as he does the same, "Ja? I told you... The food will help with the bier too. Not Amerikanner bier, nein. Proper German Beer, from the Rhine, and Bavaria." taking another sample and sighing, a taste of home, and a moment to let himself relax again.

"Glad you found me out here, Shannon. I didn't realize I needed the company, ja?"

Nightingale has posed:
     At the mention of American beer, Shannon just wrinkles her nose in evident distaste. "Not even good to cook with, most of them." As tempting as it might be to devour the schnitzel and wurst, she instead takes time to savor them, as well as the beer. Who knew when there'd be a treat like this again! It was impossible to remain mired in sadness with the company, too, and she bobs her head. "Sometimes company turns up when we need it the most, but expect it the least. Found that out a couple days ago, too." She chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Still can't believe it. And... I'm glad I found you out here, too. It's always really nice to see you."