ArchivedLogs:Helping Hands

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Helping Hands
Dramatis Personae

Jax, Teddy Welker

2014-07-07


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Location

<XS> Teachers' Lounge - B1


Running a school for mutant teenagers just taking control of their powers is not an easy job, and the teachers at Xavier's deserve a place to come and relax. This lounge is their place to come and de-stress, and it does not skimp for relaxation. The room is elegant and luxurious, plush couches making up the seating in the lounge and a glossy glassy bar wrapping around one wall, well-stocked with alcohol (and perpetually fresh-brewed coffee, for those so inclined.) A large-screen high-def television hangs on one wall, stocked with about as many movies and games as the childrens' rec room upstairs. High bookshelves hold a wealth of books. The fridge here is always well stocked, and the cook is always willing to make deliveries down to this level. Far in the back, a hot tub is submerged into the floor, for still more unwinding.

More days than not, there's some variety of snacks to be found on perched on an end of the bar -- quite often in the form of fresh-baked desserts.

It can be kind of hard to get back in the swing of things without some feet dragging the Monday after a 4th of July weekend when you're doing summer classes. At least, for some of the kids, anyway. As for the big Alaskan history teacher? Well, with summer a pretty real thing, he's full of energy. And candybars. Well. His /pockets/ were full of candybars, to give out to his morning classes as a kind of 'up and at 'em' enticement (whoever gets the lot from his last class next will love him). Come lunchtime, though, Teddy, in all his lumbering glory, has retreated to the teacher's lounge to eat, so he can park on a couch in front of the TV and watch ESPN if there's anything interesting on that's sports-related. He does not have a plate with him. He has a /serving platter/, that is stacked with some hefty sandwiches, a couple of apples, one of those half pound pags of carrots, a bag of chips, another bag of chips, half of a berry pie he filched from who knows where... well. Just. A lot. Of food. Because it's lunchtime. And he's hungry. And he's totally wearing a t-shirt that says 'The Bear Don't Care.' Along with jeans and boots. And, you know, that beard of his.

Summer means ridiculous energy for one solar-powered photokinetic, too, and Jax at least has been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed all day. He doesn't quite /look/ at his best, admittedly, tooling around the school in a wheelchair to go with the brightly rainbow tie-dyed cast on his left leg, clean white bandages covering half his face. But at least he's propelling /himself/ in the chair as opposed to all weekend when he needed to be pushed around. He's dressed, other than the cast, with his usual flamboyance. Short-sleeved purple fishnet shirt layered over a bright yellow spaghetti-strapped tank that feathers out kind of flowy from under the fishnet, pleated black-and-silver skirt that falls only halfway to his knees, braided silver-spiked wristcuffs, chunky black-and-purple sneaker on his non-casted foot. And huge mirror-lensed sunglasses despite it being indoors and one of his eyes being covered with bandaging.

The door opens for him to wheel himself in; on his lap he has a tray, raspberry shortbread cookies piled up atop it. "Oh hey!" His voice is cheerful, heavily coated with molasses-thick drawl of the /deep/ Deep South. "Y'have a good holiday?" He's pushing his way over to the bar, where he stops with a small frown, tipping his head up to look the distance between chair and bar-top. Mrrr. "-- apologies, d'you mind givin' me a hand? I jus' /know/ if I move this tray up here I'm gonna spill cookies /everywhere/."

Munchmunchmunch. While being hell on carrots, Teddy scowls at ESPN when they start talking about golf. "Ef you, golf," he declares, and is about to start channel surfing, when the door opens and he finds himself no longer alone. "Sup," he counter greets, with an uplifted nod when he looks over the back of the couch. His nose picks up on the cookies, first. "Ohdamn," he says, even as the mountain of a man that looks, for all intents and purposes, like a mountain man, and about as opposite as you can get to the brightly huedness that is Jax, hefts to his feet. "Yeah, lemme get that," he says, amiable, crossing over in a few big steps. "My holiday was pretty killer. First time doing the whole 4th in New York thing. Man, there are a /lot/ of people packed into this state." He takes the tray of cookies easy as you please, and sets them on the bar-top with a query of, "Just here?" He does not steal the lot of them, like he might want to. "How about you?"

"Oh, yeah, jus' there's good, thank y'kindly, sir." Jax's smile is bright and cheery-warm as his voice is; he wheels back slightly so that he can better look up at Teddy. "Oh /gosh/ yeah it gets /so/ mad crowded don't it? Especially if y'try to get a spot 'long the river t'see the fireworks -- did you go see 'em? M'kinda lucky, jus' moved into a new house that's sorta /on/ the river so we get a good view without the insane crowds. -- Where'd y'hail from 'fore you got here?"

The question of how his holiday was makes his head duck, a small blush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at his cast, at a sprinkling of scars (though they look kind of old) along his arm. "Oh -- gosh. Mine was good. Had kind of a rough week leadin' up, was pretty glad for jus' takin' a break with m'family on the holiday itself."

"Yeah, no problem," he says, voice all bass, friendly smile in place. Teddy crosses back over to leeeaan over the back of the couch to snag an apple off of his... platter, so he has something to eat while they talk. Although, honestly, the apple isn't going to last very long, considering the sizeable bite he takes out of it to crunch on. Wiping his mouth off with the back of a hairy arm as he swallows, he says, "Oh man. So, funny story. I was going to do the whole fireworks thing. Like watch in person. But then I discovered this burger joint. And, I mean, 4th of July, burgers, they kinda go together," he says, weighing his two hands up and down. "So I wound up watching it all on the TV in the burger joint. Honestly, though? Worth it. Pretty awesome burgers."

"Alaska. So, like, the opposite of New York. You?" he says, a grin showing the oversized canine teeth he sports before he takes another big bite of apple. While he chews, one of his eyes squints down as he considers his newfound conversational partner. "Yeah, kinda looks like maybe you had a rough weekend, man. No offense. Although, you're definitely rocking some serious colors."

"Y'got waylaid by a burger joint?" There's laughter in Jax's voice, expression brightening with amusement. "Oh gosh you're gonna have trouble downtown, I think, y'can't throw a /stone/ without hittin' five different places with to-die-for food." He lifts a hand, skimming fingertips (complete with very /shiny/ metallic-purple nails) across the (also colourful with bright intricate chimaera tattoo) top of his shaved-smooth skull. "Oh /wow/ you're far from home. I mean I'm far from home but Georgia ain't far like /Alaska's/ far. S'kinda a drastic change'a scenery, huh?" He drops his hand back into his lap, head tipped back -- perhaps to regard those huge teeth though from behind the sunglasses it's hard to tell. "We have a lotta rough weekends, 'round here. M'sure you'll find one sooner or later. Definitely -- moreso than usual, though. An' thanks. I /teach/ a class all /'bout/ colour so it's fittin', right?"

"Oh man it's /great/, right? Just pick a street and walk down it and trip over all the food," Teddy says, lit up by the idea, practically chuckling away. "In the summer, I eat so much, it's kinda nice to know that I won't just wreck the kitchen of the one restaurant around, you know? Just... drive into the city, eat my way through it." The apple disappears. He eats the whole thing, core, seeds, stem and all, without really thinking about it. With the mention of the scenery change, he laughs, the sound broad and from down in his chest. "Yeah, kinda different. Although hanging out around here ain't so bad. There's the woods and stuff I can tromp around in when I'm feeling homesick. Not quite the same, but that's okay. I've never been to Georgia. Nice down there? Heard about the food." Honestly, looking at him, looking at his plate, and considering his talk of restaurants already, he has probably heard about the food /everywhere/. But that's neither here nor there. He laughs again, hearty, about the color class comment. "Yeah, that's definitely a way to emphasize it."

"Pretty much that's how it goes. Is a good city t'bring your /appetite/ to." The small lift of Jax's brows and continued amusement in his tone suggests he's definitely /noticed/ Teddy's acre of food. "The grounds around here are pretty fantastic. Hiking, climbin', ridin' -- kinda spend a lotta time out there when I'm missin' home, too. An' s'/gorgeous/ down there. Trees an' mountains an' -- /not/ crowds. Not where I was at anyhow." He runs his hand habitually aross his scalp again, dropping it back to fidget with the hem of his shirt, a restless energy in his posture that probably isn't coping /excellently/ with being stuck in the wheelchair. "-- Heard tell you was joinin' our team." PROBABLY he is not just talking about the teaching staff.

He won't mind Teddy leaning over the couch again to swipe up the other apple, right? In the big man's defense, at least he is being somewhat healthy in his food options! He crunches a bite from this latest fruit before he even manages to straighten up completely. Munchmunch. "Yeah, so for real, there's horses? I don't always know what animals will do with me, some are chill, but some freak out, so I stay away, but that's kind of crazy, right? A school with horses? Is that just a thing out here with schools?" Plenty of horses up in Alaska. But not at his high school, nope. "Know any good spots for fishing?" he asks, an off-the-cuff question that is rumbled in such a way as to suggest he was thinking aloud as he asked it.

Looking at Jax at just the right time to catch the fidget, though, Teddy hooks a thumb to the bar and asks, "You want anything, by the way?" Because it is kind of easier for him to get around, grab things. He really doesn't mind. With another bite of apple, he nods along with that last bit, and after swallowing, responds aloud with, "Yeah. Sounded like maybe I could be helpful. You know, lift heavy shit. Scare the piss out of assholes." A toothy grin follows that.

"It ain't a thing with most schools, but some'a the boardin' schools what can afford it, yeah. We got an equestrian club -- I work in the stables a lot so if y'ever want t'go down there I can tell you which of them's usually more even-tempered and which spook easier. Horses an' -- one giant ridable-sized dragonfly. Though /she/ don't take to strangers too quick." Jax may well be entirely serious about giant dragonflies; at least his tone hasn't changed from talking about the horses to talking about this.

His nose wrinkles up at the mention of fishing, lips pressing together with brief distaste. "I don't do no -- meat," he answers with a small shrug, sliding easily enough on into, "but my pups -- my kids, they're pretty much the best fishers you'll ever meet. M'fair sure they know /all/ the spots for fishin', you could ask them. They ain't in summer classes, but they're around here now an' then to go huntin' or on rock climbin' trips. Hard to miss, they're teeny and blue and big-big sharkteeth.

He shakes his head at the offer of Things, fluttering fingers towards the cookies. "I jus' come down to drop those off. Like to keep everyone proper sugared up, I think the feedin' things a Southern compulsion." He exhales a quick quiet laugh at Teddy's last answer, scrunching his eye up a little bit. "Some'a the folks we tend t'be up against don't scare quite so easy."

Slow blink. "Dragonfly," Teddy repeats, deadpan and incredulous. But, honestly, considering everything running around in the world these days, that is not the strangest thing he's heard of by far. "And nah, that's okay. I dig horses. They're cool. I don't want to stress them out any." He stuffs his face with the remainder of his apple, and the entirety of it disappears much like its predecessor. His expression goes blank for just a split second there, at the mention of no meat, because vegetarians are exceptionally thin on the ground in Alaska of all places, but he recovers quickly enough to be, you know, gracious about his response. "Ah," he sounds. And, "Cool. I'll ask 'em when I see 'em around." Teeny, blue, sharkteeth. Sounds easy enough to spot. Except for the teeny part. Teddy, kind of the opposite of teeny. Doesn't always look for teeny things if they aren't edible.

"Okay, so you /are/ the baked goods dude, right?" He has heard of this. And has already enjoyed previous delights in the lounge. Teddy thumps a big fisted paw of a hand to his chest and, in super serious mode, says, "I am your new number one fan." And then he busts out into a grin. Because that is kind of ridiculous. Rubbing a hairy-backed hand under his nose, he squints over at his platter with sandwiches still stacked, but he does not yet move to grab one. "Well. Guess I'll have to try to knock some sense into those folks, then. As much as doing it the hard way like that sucks."

"Dragonfly," Jax agrees cheerfully, "her name's Sugar an' she's -- /sweet/. But kinda shy." Jax bounces just a little in his seat, calming again after the /wince/ that this motion elicits, his hand curling in reflexive protective motion across his stomach. "Oh, yeah! I bake. A lot. I teach the bakin' class? M'kinda a -- jack of -- well, not all trades. Jus' /odd/ trades. Teach art an' bakin' an' sex ed an' -- /try/ not to mix up which one I'm teachin' when." His hand rubs at the back of his neck, another faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "But yeah lotsa the desserts that get set out here is mine, I'm -- glad y'like them." He pulls in another breath, slower as his hand drops away from his midsection. "I'm fair sure we'll be glad'a the help. S'been a little -- stretched-thin lately. Taken a few, uh, too many knocks." His hand waves down towards his cast. Up towards the bandages on his face. "Gonna -- probably be havin' a meetin' later on in the week. If you're around. Can give you kinda a run-down of where the most help might be needful."

With his hunger an almost ever-constant thing this time of year, Teddy gives in and leans over the couch once again, this time to take a few swipes at the bag of carrots before he snags it. Otherwise, he'll just get distracted thinking about it, be all rude... They're baby carrots, and easy to eat as the chips. He offers the bag Jax's way with brows up. Want some? "Okay, maybe I'll have to check out the dragonfly," he says. "Uh, from a distance." But then the tree trunk of a guy is laughing, at the idea of mixing up baking, art, and sex ed. Because oh man, that could be so bad, in such a hilarious way.

More serious conversation draws out a more serious Teddy, though, as he sets his brows in a line and nods. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there if I can. And seriously, whatever help people need. However I can lend a hand."

"Oh thanks!" Jax's smile lights again, and he leans forward to snag himself a few carrots out of the bag, crunching into them happily. His own laugh is a lighter echo of Teddy's. "-- Miss Savita would kill me, the horrible mess that'd leave in her kitchens." Because nobody messes with the head cook's Domain. He bobs his head in a nod, too, laughter fading back into quieter earnestness. "I'll keep you posted, then. I should get back t'home, I got kinda a packed house this week. Need t'make sure ain't nobody /burned/ it down." He sticks the last carrot he took in his mouth like a tiny orange cigar, lifting his chin in a tipped-up nod. "See y'tomorrow. Enjoy your --" he glances over towards the couch. "Feast."

"Ohman, don't piss that woman off," Teddy says, as if imparting some new wisdom to the guy who has been around a hell of a lot longer than him. Somebody has maybe already learned to behave himself when going on a food raid. Crunching more carrots, he chuckles and nods. And then casts a look over to the platter on the coffee table. Hooking a thumb to it, grin boastful as he looks back to Jax, he says, "That? That's just a snack." He is kidding. He has to be kidding. The chuckling that follows totally means he's kidding. He then offers his knuckles to the other man. Gimmie knucks, bro. Fistbump time. "Yeah, take it easy. I'll see you around." Side note: most of those cookies are probably going to disappear before the big Alaskan moves on to his next class.

"I got my knuckles spoon-rapped a fair /few/ times when I was a student here," Jax admits with a sheepish crooked grin -- /more/ sheepish for the admission: "... an' more'n a couple since bein' a teacher too." He stretches out his arm to tap knuckles up against Teddy's. "I'll remember t'double the portions /again/ when I'm bakin' tomorrow." He drops his hands down to wheel himself back out, pausing to press the door-open button before leaving the cookies to their inevitable fate.