The Roof, Tuesday Evening

[wwiii]

Antsy. That was maybe the best way to describe how Warren had been, yesterday, today, waiting for his first actual class while trying to get his head wrapped around what he'd pretty much accepted as 'as normal as things are going to get.'

He'd made his way to the edge of the roof, looking out over the island as the sun set and the lights in the town slowly started to flicker on. This place was nothing like New York. And at the moment, that was probably the biggest relief that he was going to get.

He straightened his coat, turning his gaze out toward the other corners of the island, and for a moment he couldn't help but be seriously tempted to just pull it off, give his wings a good stretch, and jump. There was a sort of freedom to free-fall, and an exhilaration in catching himself again entirely too close to the ground. A guy could get addicted to it.

To flying.

But for now? For now, he'd content himself to the view. It wasn't half bad, even if it wasn't New York.

[Open Roof is open!]

Comments

[longislandiceme]

Deadpool was, also, in a bizarre sort of way their pseudo-newphew-in-law. Or something. That probably wouldn't help with the freaking-out though (or maybe it wouldn't matter much, since this Warren didn't know Scott). "Okay, yeah, no idea what a Muggle is either," Bobby admitted. "It sounds kinda like a made up word, honestly."

[wwiii]

And this Warren never could know Scott. In his reality, Scott was at least in his thirties. And also, dead. Possibly permanently.

"So I'm in the gibberish class for gibberish," Warren mused. That was helpful! "I wonder if they expect me to take my notes in pig-latin, then."

[longislandiceme]

Please. Like death ever stopped anyone in the Marvel universe.

"You might wanna brush up, just in case," Bobby said with a nod.

[wwiii]

"Is-thay ace-play is sane-inay?" See? He was catching on already! "At least the girls here are nice."

If there was any doubt that this was Warren before...

[longislandiceme]

It's always nice to get that last little bit of confirmation, though, isn't it?

"They are," Bobby said. "Like, for example, my roommate?"

[wwiii]

And now, Warren was pretty much doomed!

"Yeah? What's your roommate like?"

Well, for starters, she liked her coffee black.

[longislandiceme]

"Blonde, snarky... likes her coffee black?" Bobby said pointedly.

[wwiii]

Oh.

... Oh.

"Kate? Kate's your roommate?"

[longislandiceme]

Bobby smirked, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back smugly as if there were a wall behind him. Which there wasn't, of course, since they were on the roof and all.

"That's the one," he said.

[wwiii]

Well, this was vaguely awkward.

"She's a dancer, too," Warren offered up, so very helpfully. And not quite warming up to the thought of adding on the 'and then we ran away from flamingos' bit.

[longislandiceme]

"She'd probably hit me if I tried to do any sort of 'you'd better not hurt her' speech," Bobby admitted.

Never mind that he'd attempted to interrogate Francine yesterday over how she knew about Warren's wings. That was entirely different.

[wwiii]

"Well, then it's a good thing I really don't want to hurt anyone," Warren replied.

This was the first time in his life he'd gotten anything even remotely close to 'you'd better not hurt her' from anyone. It possibly showed in his expression right now. Because he had no idea what to make of this.

[longislandiceme]

Bobby grinned at him. "I know," he said. The Warren he was familiar with was sure of himself, occasionally arrogant... and had used his powers to help people in need even before he'd been an X-Man. "And, um. I'm sorry if that's weird, that I know stuff like that," he added, his conversation with Kate still fresh in his mind.

[wwiii]

Well, when you had wings, it was a shame not to put them to use. Like this particular Warren, who had been doing a good deal of not putting his to use, since he was just a kid.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, smiling a little. "It's just something else to get used to. I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't a little weird, all of these people knowing me, but that's an easy enough fix, right?"

Clearly, he had to make friends with everyone.

Uh. Maybe not.

[longislandiceme]

Bobby nodded. "You'll just have to get to know us back, is all," he replied.

[wwiii]

"I'm sure none of you bite unless you're asked nicely," Warren decided.

Yeah. There was some good logic, right there.

"But for the record, I'm not going to be putting on tights anytime soon."

[longislandiceme]

A statement which caused Bobby to laugh so hard he wobbled on the ledge for a moment before recovering his balance.

"I dunno, man. You could make it work." Totally not speaking from experience here, nope.

[wwiii]

"Well, if anyone could make it work..." Shut up. Warren was totally preening, here. "But being able to doesn't negate the fact that it is just completely not going to happen."

Seriously. Spandex. What?

[longislandiceme]

It wasn't spandex! It was unstable molecules!

...As far as Bobby was concerned it was totally spandex.

"Okay," Bobby nodded. "No spandex for Warren, check."

[wwiii]

"The Vice Principal has warned me away from blue," Warren shared. "If I were coerced into something like that, I'd probably be putting it on just to spite him."

Seriously. For the sole purpose of spiting Deadpool.

[longislandiceme]

"We wore blue and yellow costumes for a while," Bobby blurted. Because unlike certain other people, he couldn't break the fourth wall, and thus had no idea about any other connotations regarding Warren and the color blue.

[wwiii]

Pardon Warren for a moment. A long sort of moment, while he stares.

"We did?"

He had?

"Did they cram me into it kicking and screaming, by any chance?"

He kind of doubted it, but there was always hope, right?

[longislandiceme]

"Ummm, not really?" Bobby shrugged. "I mean, you bitched about how the mask bit messed up your hair, but other than that you didn't seem to mind."

[wwiii]

Warren now had to take a moment to reassess the situation. Some other him, while still valuing his hair thank-you-very-much, was okay with gallivanting around in tights.

... Wait.

"So. What exactly were you doing in those outfits?"

[longislandiceme]

"We were, you know. Making the world safe for mutantkind." In theory. It occurred to him then that although he'd told a handful of people about his powers, he hadn't said anything to anyone about the whole superhero gig. Well, besides Jean and Kurt and Jono, who (sort of) already knew.