2015-07-31 Mansion Summer Evening
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Tyler Boris Gambit
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: Mansion SUmmer Evening

Rating: Everybody

Summer night comes late, though it comes earlier and earlier now that the summer solstice has passed. Out on the porch, a wicker rocking chair rocks back and forth with the seated man turned at an angle away from the door. Every so often a slow haze of smoke slips upwards in twisting circles, flowing up towards the ceiling until they dissipate outwards.

Still the chair creaks slightly and the man's right hand turns toward the small chair at his right to flick the ash from his cigarette.

Summer evenings are great. The cooler air, the charming sounds of the crickets, and the opportunity to relax after grading what feels like a bajillion student papers. Tyler clearly needs a refined level of relaxation, because he's brought a bit of a kit with him. Charles might roll out onto the porch with tea - Tyler has brought a little wooden tray with a bundle of fresh mint, a few rocks glasses, raw sugar, and a bottle of bourbon. It's mint julep time. The whole set-up is something a drunken Martha Stewart would be proud of - it's precious to the nines.
"Oh! Evening!" Tyler greets, seeing the profile of the cajun. He's heard about a new addition to the team, but hasn't met the fellow, yet.
The blond mutant is wearing a v-neck tangerine-colored tee-shirt, stripey summer shorts, and sandals.

Le Beau pulls the cigarette from his lips and turns to look over his left shoulder at the instructor, giving the blonde man a smile. "Evenin', mon ami. 'm Remy. New to dese parts." His face twists in a scrunch as he takes another deep drag from his smoke, exhaling as he speaks. "An' who might you be, mon ami?"

People have been nice here so far toward Remy, which is a nice change from a whirlwind race around the world. From Paris, to Rio, to a thousand Mexican villages he'd never know the name of. He's only been here a few days, but already it's sort of grown on him.

The sprinkling of French words and the purring N'awlins accent earns Remy a small smile from Tyler. "Tyler Moyse. I'm a teacher, here." He sets down the tray on the coffee table that serves as a focal point for some of the porch furniture. "I brought a few extra glasses in case anyone else craved an evening mint julep. Or - if it's more your taste, a finger or two of bourbon on its own? With ice? bitters?" Tyler likes his drinks to /taste/ good, and enjoys them in limited quantity. He's the opposite of Logan, in that respect.

"We'up, Teach, ole Remy never one to turn down a beverage. I'll have it howeva you be havin' it, if it's just the same to you." LeBeau turns his chair to face Moyse more fully and leans back, folding one leg over the other as he takes another drag. "Dis tobbak-y bother you any, Hoss?"

He seems willing to put it out if it does.

"Not at all. So long as it's outside. Everyone should be entitled to their vices, so long as they don't indelibly perfume the drapes, mh?" He smirks at his own locquacious response. He begins the task of plucking mint leaves, laying them in each rocks glass, adding sugar, and scooping ice atop it all. His movements aren't quite fussy, but nor are they lazy. The man enjoys a drink made with precision, and is practiced enough at the composition to make the process look easy. "The bourbon's an oat base blend from Chicago. I find it a bit silky and smoky at the same time. Should pair nicely with a cigarette." He stirs each glass until they sweat with condensation, and hands one to Remy. "Cheers."

"Many thanks, mon ami." Remy reaches toward the glass and takes it from Tyler, leaning back even as he brings it to his lips. It's followed by a low whistle and a nod. "Nobbad, Ty, nobbad."

"So what's your story, Teach? You been here at dis place a long time? Seems nice." His eyes, black and red, look over the house as he speaks. It almost seems as though he's surprised he's here.

Christ. Tyler tries not to let the blush from the compliment go all the way to his ears. Stupid handsome cajun stranger and his stupid handsome accent. "Glad you like! Had a little stage-fright, there, making a julep for a genuine Southerner." He sips his own, settling back into his seat. "Well. Had a nasty run-in with a Sentinel that made it terribly unlikely to continue living a normal life. Charles Xavier kindly contacted me, informed me of this school and the opportunites I might have, here." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, "Wasn't a hard decision. It's great, here. And I feel like I'm reaching an audience of kids who might not have this sort of opportunity, otherwise. How about you?"

"Taste pretty good t'me," Remy responds as he takes another sip. "Sentinels, you say? No fun, no fun indeed. Haven't ever had the misfortune. Consider myself lucky." The cigarette is stamped out, but almost as quick he pulls out another and the spark of his lighter cause his face to be lit up in orange for a moment. "Glad you found it. Teachin' is an important thing, specially for kids who are growin' up like we did. Never did go to school as a youngster. Good dat dese kids have some place to go."

"Me? Well, I spose you could just say I ended up here by chance. Wind keeps on blowin' and blew me right up here to de front door."

With classes over for now, and things seeming to calm down after the past harrowing few weeks, it was time to come out. Boris one of the more nervous students in the school opens the front door and lumbers out, glad that at least this door was eay to get through. The dwarven mutant was dressed in nothing but a pair of old overalls, choosing to forego shoes and shirt. He had with him a large bucket with him that also carried some books. He waves to Tyler knowing the teacher, but Remy…get a far more wary wave as Boris looks him over carefully, his fur covered whiskers twitching "Hello"

As smoking handsome as the cajun may be, Tyler's suspicion of outsiders tempers his attraction when the fellow's story gets… vague. "Fate and serendipity, hm?" He agrees blithely. He'll need to hear from Ororo or Emma how this guy checks out. "Well, I hope you find it a good fit…" Tyler turns to regard Boris as the dwarf-mutant arrives, "Evening, Boris. This is Remy. New guest of the Mansion. Remy, Boris. A student, here."
"Ready for Composition class on Monday?" Classes are suspended, sure, but they're starting up soon enough.
Monitor> Wanda has disconnected at 2:10 p.m..
Wanda has disconnected.

Remy drops the portion about his past cold as Boris comes. His features light up, and the cigarette gets flipped and he pinches the end and "hides" the rest under his palm and off to the side.

"Boris, it's a pleasure. Nice t'meet you." After a brief pause, he adds a question. "You takin' summer school? Bummer."

Boris was about to answer Tyler when he hears Remy. He turns to Remy "Et is pleasure ta meet sie too but Bummar? How so? Sckool be good vink. Unfortanly, vey want meh take slow since kommink ta vis kontrie. So fer now Ah jist take vee basics" he says seeming genuinely happy about taking classes. He is a straight A/B student for a reason in high honor classes none the less. He looks to Tyler "Sie bet Ah am! Vough, Ah wondering vat et iz we will be writink aboot?" he asks with wonder. His stomech growls loudly.

Tyler smiles at Boris, "We'll be starting with the stuff that's hardest and easiest - Poetry composition and appreciation. I think you'll enjoy it. It's a good way to get into the language, too." He looks from Boris to Remy, and back again. "Which reminds me - I should be turning in. I've got prep for classes and I still need to wake up in time for my workout, tomorrow. Those crunches aren't going to do themselves." He pokes out his tongue in a mild yuck-face at the concept of exercise. "Thanks for the porch company, Remy."

"And t'ank you for da drink, mon ami. Pleasure meetin' you," Remy says as he gives Tyler one last nod. His eyes then fall upon Boris and it becomes apparent, if it wasn't already that Remy feels a bit odd drinking and smoking in front of a kid at his new school.

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