Logs:Broken Bourbon: Difference between revisions

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{{ Logs
{{ Logs
| cast = [[Kurt]], [[Beau]]
| cast = [[Kurt]], [[Leonidas|Beau]]
| summary = "You gotta right to be pissed off, just gotta aim it."
| summary = "You gotta right to be pissed off, just gotta aim it."
| gamedate = 2020-08-21
| gamedate = 2020-08-21
Line 6: Line 6:
| subtitle =  
| subtitle =  
| location = St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church
| location = St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church
| categories = Beau, Kurt, Mutants, Xavier's, Salem Center
| categories = Leonidas, Kurt, Mutants, Xavier's, Salem Center
| log = St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church is far from it's prime, many of the pews and furniture growing dust. However, all the bibles and various other items were organized neatly. A stained glass display causes a kaleidoscope of bright colors to fall on the floor from the moonlight, illuminating the cobwebs that have formed. It's quiet, tranquil, a good place to meditate.
| log = St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church is far from it's prime, many of the pews and furniture growing dust. However, all the bibles and various other items were organized neatly. A stained glass display causes a kaleidoscope of bright colors to fall on the floor from the moonlight, illuminating the cobwebs that have formed. It's quiet, tranquil, a good place to meditate.



Revision as of 18:09, 24 July 2023

Broken Bourbon
Dramatis Personae

Kurt, Beau

In Absentia


2020-08-21


"You gotta right to be pissed off, just gotta aim it."

Location

St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church


St. Stephen's Roman Catholic Church is far from it's prime, many of the pews and furniture growing dust. However, all the bibles and various other items were organized neatly. A stained glass display causes a kaleidoscope of bright colors to fall on the floor from the moonlight, illuminating the cobwebs that have formed. It's quiet, tranquil, a good place to meditate.

This is the young mutant's intention. He uses his tail to wrap around the chandelier, toes clinging onto the metal rim as he held his rosary in his hand, eyes closed tightly. His plain grey t-shirt is lifted up slightly due to his position, although he doesn't seem to mind this. Quietly, he's whispering, even if no one else can hear him. "I-Ich vergebe jedem, der mich verletzt hat... und i-ich bitte um vergebung f-für diejenigen, die mich verletzt haben..."

There's a rumble as something heavy makes impact with the ground. "Sum bitch I'm more exhausted than Trump reading a picture book." a masculine voice drawls before creaking the old door open.

The man that steps inside looks to be a bodybuilder in his thirties, wearing a pair of grey Xavier's joggers and a matching wife beater. "Couple perks to bein' a freak I reckon." he takes a swig from the open bottle in his left hand before moving further in and taking a seat on the floor.

Kurt feels the rumble, startling him out of his meditative state and causing him to lose his grip of the chandelier. He teleports mid-air back to the chandelier, making a clear bamf sound as Beau opens the door. He's on the high ceiling now, fingers and toes clinging to the surface. He flattens his body against it to blend in easier, his tail whipping around in a defensive position. Once the other walks in, he tilts his head curiously, noticing the branded Xavier joggers. His body relaxes at that -- but not completely. With another bamf, he's by the door, cautiously walking towards the other.

"You are from the Institute, jah?" He opens with, his tail flickering. "I-I do not think anyone else came here..." He notices the bottle and his face immediately twists into a scowl. "Y-you really shouldn't --" he corrects his tone into something more polite, "maybe you should, ahh, do that outside? Not... in a church?"

"Shitfuck!" Beau starts, jumping slightly and shattering the glass fifth clutched in his fist. Sighing quietly he can't help but stare at the puddle of blueberry bourbon that now covers his lap and the floor around around him.

"Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do." he eventually replies after what feels like minutes. "Kurt, yeah? We're in the same grade." A slight pause, "m'Beau."

Kurt pauses, letting out a defeated sigh. "I suppose you are right." He slouches his shoulders and comes closer to the mutant, noticing the bourbon. "S-sorry! Ohh, uhm, I should--" He bamfs away at that, leaving a small puff of smoke and the smell of burning brimstone in his wake. After a few seconds, he reappears with some old towels in his hands, handing one to Beau before using his to wipe the floor. "Yes, Kurt. I'm sorry, when I was at the school -- I didn't really get out much." He says with strain as he tries to contain as much of the mess as he can. "You know, I thought you were a teacher. So big!"

"Thanks." Beau takes the offered rag and mops off the excess liquor. "Get that a lot, yeah. Comes in handy sometimes." he vaguely motions towards the glass shards. "Same, honestly. Just sneak out every now and then to be alone. Usually sober, but I figured I had enough of a handle on the crushing things I could get wild." another pause, "Guess I was wrong."

“I understand.” He purses his lips and moves his attention to carefully collect the glass shards, setting them in a pile. “I, uhm, came from Germany, so... was a very big adjustment.” There’s sadness in his tone, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. “Are you still there? At the Institute?” He finishes gathering the glass and carefully scoops it up with his hands, placing it on the seat of a pew.

"Sure enough. A few years now." Beau transitions smoothly up to his feet. "Not awful. Would've been better if I hadn't of had to pay for all those doors."

"Yeah, American schools suck pretty hard. At least it's not a public school, those are even worse." he rolls his shoulders and looks around. "So.. what're you doing out here?"

Kurt is quiet at first towards his question, brow furrowing in thought. "I... come here to pray." He answers meekly. "It's quiet, and no one -- for the most part -- bothers me." He smiles. "Not that I mind company." He folds his towel neatly and sets it by the glass, making a mental note to properly clean up when Beau leaves. "I've never been to a public school, or, any school other than Xavier's. Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

"Yeah, go for it." Beau says with a motion towards the seat next to himself. "Can't say I'm exactly the religious sort myself. Had it shoved down my throat when I was younger to the point I can't much stand it now. Not knocking it or anything, just not my thing." He leans his hip against the end of the pew and sighs quietly again. "Old holy places are good to squat in, at least in heavily religious places."

Kurt doesn't really sit, instead, he crouches in it, his toes wrapping around the edge of the seat. His tail whips around behind him as he rests his elbows on his knees. "I understand, religion is used by many people to justify their horrible actions." He shakes his head at the thought. "In Germany, I used to live in an attic of a church like this." He comments. "It was smaller, though. But that's when I converted." He smiles softly, but it fades as soon as it came. "So... I think I can safely assume your mutant ability is with strength?" His smile creeps back, his fang sticking out and hooking onto his lower lip.

"More or less," Beau answers in regards to his mutation before elaborating, "I was scrawny before my powers developed. Shorter than the other kids, a good deal weaker. Reckon I'd of got my ass kicked more often if my prick father wasn't a lawyer. Hurt like hell getting this big."

Carefully he fishes a metal cigarette case out and opens it, producing half of a thin black cigarillo and resting it between his lips. "Had the good fortune to live in a house, like, a real house." He waves the case around a bit to emphasize his words before tucking it away once again.

"Pretty sure I'm not welcome back once I graduate though. Last I heard my dad was still supporting that mutant registration act they're pushing down in Georgia."

Kurt listened intently, waiting politely until he had a moment to speak. “I was born looking like this,” a small flicker of his tail accents this, “but the teleporting came later.”

He tilts his head curiously at the last part. “Mutant Registration Act...? I-I do not think I’ve heard of it.”

"The government wants to make a list of us and our abilities, warn our neighbors and employers about us." Beau explains. "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before all of us have to worry about it."

Kurt’s shoulders tense, back straightens, tail comes to a standstill. “W-what?” He stutters out in disbelief. “Why? Why would they do that?” He adjusts his position. “That would just put mutants at greater risk! As if we did not have enough to worry about.” He scoffs.

"We're apparently dangerous." Beau grunts from around the piece of blunt between his lips. "I mean, to be completely honest, I'm not exactly safe. I'd be more comfortable being honest with them if they weren't so outright hateful."

"Jah, but, what about mutants like me? Who -- who already have to hide what we are? We'd just have a bigger target." He slouches his shoulders now, looking down at the floor. "How does Xavier expect mutants to coexist with humans if they do everything in their power to isolate us?" He lets out a long exhale and holds his forehead in his hand.

"Sorry, I am ranting." He turns his head back to Beau. "I am sorry about your father, truly. But I hear there are many resources for mutants by mutants around, so even if he does not welcome you back -- there are many of us who will." He gives him an earnest smile, putting a hand on his arm.

"That's the point, the ones making those laws don't want to coexist with us. They hope that if they lock us up or kill us off things'll go back to normal. " Beau lifts his massive shoulders in a tiny shrug.

"Honestly I couldn't care any less about the prick, hated living down in the ass crack of nowhere anyways." He pulls a rough lighter from his pocket, flicks it open, and presses the flame to the end of his smoke.

"A bit longer and I should be able to stop crushing shit and find some steady work."

“I am sure there are many jobs that your mutation can help with, if they allow it.”

He takes his hand back, sighing. “I feel so... powerless about it all, you know? There are people deciding my fate, what is good for me, and I cannot do anything to stop them. I-I don’t even know that they are doing it!” His voice raises slightly, but he calms himself, rubbing his thumb against the rosary beads. “Sorry, again.”

"You gotta right to be pissed off, just gotta aim it." Beau says with a bit of a dismissive wave before pocketing his lighter. He takes about a second drag from the blunt before opening his mouth slightly and pulling the smoke up into his nose.

"Honestly I used to stay pretty pissed about it all myself. Between getting away from home and a little weed," he hits it once more for effect before continuing, "I've managed to mellow out a bit. Probably half the reason I've stopped breaking things so often. Hell, even started working out when I'm not working to get a feel for just what I can do, and I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't just a touch impressed with it. Honestly thinking about trying to join the professor's X-Men next year."

There's a slight pause before he facepalms, the impact sounding closer to a gunshot, "The X stands for Xavier. I /just/ got that." A smaller pause, "That's a little conceited. "

Kurt purses his lips, looking down as he listened to the other speak. He makes a small face at the mention of the X-Men, his hand making a fist around his rosary.

"I think you will be a great X-Man." He faces Beau now, a soft smile on his lips. "I haven't thought about what I am to do in the future, but off the top of my head," his brow furrows, "I would want to help people. I do not know about the X-Men, though."

Kurt's train of thought is abruptly stopped at the thundering sound of his facepalm. He flinches and raises his hands defensively to his face, the fur on his arms and the back of his neck sticking up. He takes a moment to process the source of the sound, and once he does, he calms down. "Really? Is that what it stands for?" He begins to pat his fur down. "I always thought it was so they would sound cool. It is intimidating, no? The 'X-Men.'"

"I'm thinking it might be. The school's named after him, figure Xavier's-Men is pretty on brand. Like a pmc that only does relief work." Beau sucks on his teeth before looking more fully at Kurt.

"It does feel sorta like giving up and joining the army." His eyes light up as a thought crosses his mind. "You don't seem the type, but you'd be scary in a fight, what with all that popping around you can do. Especially with that smoke and sulfur stink."

Kurt looks to the side, contemplating whether Xavier would be that vain. But, his attention is quickly brought back to Beau, looking slightly offended at the use of 'stink.' He doesn't say anything about it, instead, his tail rests on the pew as he faces the large stained glass mural. "You are right, I am not the type to fight. Fighting only makes things worse for me, I think." He turns to Beau, shifting his somber tone for a jovial one. "If I had half the strength you have, I think I'd have a difference of opinion."