2013.05.30 - Chatty Morning

Morning, and it's looking like it's going to be a scorcher. The sun is shining across the northeast, though the sky is broken up with cloud cover here and there, thus bringing some humidity into the mix.

It's a familiar enough scene, played over and over in households across the country, which lends the air of domesticity to it all. Only, most other households don't contain 3 blue mutants and a blonde witch.

Kurt's in the kitchen, standing over the coffee pot, in short sleeves and jeans, a pair of red Converse on his feet. His tail gently sways as he waits on the gurgling appliance to finish. "I knew I wanted the impatient option on this verdammt thing.." is muttered. He's got his cup in hand, and a piece of toast on the side.

Merle comes out of the bedroom she is sharing with her trans-dimensional half-sister wearing a pair of white satin pyjamas -- as she says the word -- and white terry cloth house sandals with rubber soles. Hearing indication of activity in the kitchen she heads into that room, stretching her arms over her head as she walks. Seeing Kurt she smiles.

"Good morning," she says in greeting. "Can you whip me up a cup of Earl Gray while I scramble some eggs on the cooker?" she asks as she fetches some bacon and eggs from the refrigerator, referring to the recent purchase she made to 'complete' the stock Amanda keeps in her cabinets on a trip to the grocery store between extensive historical research she has been performing on Wikipedia over the past few days.

As Merle heats up a pan on the top of the stove she comments on Kurt's outfit by saying, "Nice trainers," referring of course to his red Converse shoes.

Kurt swivels his head at the sound, glowing yellow eyes staring for a moment, and they blink once. Not a morning person, at least this morning, perhaps?

"Guten Morgen.. und the kettle is on, ja. The water should be hot. When I'm here, I usually always have it on."

Searching the cabinets, he pulls a cup down and the box of the newly arrived tea before he hits upon an idea.. and he pulls a third cup down and plays a game of cups to keep the brewing from hitting the boiler plate as he grabs his coffee. He does the switcheroo once again, mug for pot, and takes a step back.

"Sleep well?" Kurt looks down at his sneakers and chuckles, "Don't ask Amanda about my choice of shoes.. please."

The blue British bird nods her head and says, "I did, the bed m-... Amanda has put me up on is very comfortable," in answer to the inquiry and then cocks her eyebrow when he comments about the shoes. "Oh, now you have to explain why, 'dad'," Merle says with a grin.

While she speaks she gets the pan heated up and then lays a coupld of strips of bacon on it. The meat instantly starts to sizzle and she then gets a bowl to crack and scramble the two eggs she is preparing into. Before he has a chance to answer her request she asks, "Do you want any?" indicating the food she is preparing.

Kurt's got a six-fingered hold on his coffee, and pours the boiling water into the cup for the tea with a deft flick of his tail. Once the water's poured, he turns the heat down on the burner to low, again with the tail, the spaded tip. "She has a thing against loafers." He takes that first tentative sip of coffee, testing the heat (as if it'll be anything but hot out of the pot?) before another sip is taken.

The offer gains a brief headshake, followed by a "Nein, bitte.. I'm a donut und coffee elf."

Which.. reminds him, and he checks a spot beside the refrigerator where there should be chocolate donuts.. and.. he blinks.

Once.

Twice.

"No donuts."

* bamf*

Where there was a Kurt Wagner, there is none, only to reappear in the living room.. and again, the second he appears, he's gone again.

* bamf*

There's the sound coming from down the hall, and immediately, he reappears in the kitchen.

"They're gone!"

A thing against loafers. That's an unusual and quirky thing to have a thing against. Very clearly curious about this, as she slides the bacon out onto a plate and prepares to cook the eggs in the remaining grease, Merle asks, "What does she have against them?" Then, as Kurt begins to port around the apartment looking for his missing donuts, she begins to laugh softly as she takes a spatula to the eggs, folding them over and over again as they cook to prevent unwanted browning.

They're gone.

"I bet TJ took them." After all, the chances are better than even that she's got his sweet tooth. Kurt sighs and still cradles his coffee in those six fingers; no spilling through all the bamfs. Talent and experience, right there!

"As I said, ask her. I don't mind them." It is a strange thing, certainly.. and he's mum on the topic! Nope. Loaferboy keeps his secrets.

Leaning on the wall that divides the kitchen and living room, his tail flicks, gently swaying. "I know it's something of a shock, arriving, but how are you settling?"

"Just a bit," Merle says in a sarcastic but friendly tone as she slides her eggs onto the plate next to her bacon and pours the still boiling water into her tea cup. Letting the food rest and the drink steep she begins to clean up, putting away the bacon and the egg carton and then cleaning the pan in the sink before taking her breakfast to the kitchen table.

"I found a place to pick up pyjamas as you see," Merle touches the Mandarin collar of the button down top for a moment as she mentions the outfit, "And a store near enough to the flat that I could get my tea at... it didn't even have long queues at the checkout." She doesn't mention any problems encountered going out and seems to feel that shopping excursions, even in a strange dimension, are everyday events -- even in an alternate dimension.

"With the City, shopping is easy, und it's reasonably safe." Mostly. "New York has its own Mutant Town, so actually, some of the visitors to the city are looking to find a 'real mutant' or two. Just to say they saw one." Kurt doesn't have a problem with that; usually he smiles and waves. Those that don't run after seeing the tail and fangs, well.. sometimes he'll pose for a picture. Only if they ask nicely, however.

"Though," and here, it seems as if the indigo-furred face darkens just a little more, "it seems there are a few more problems creeping up that will need attention." Kurt exhales softly but audibly, and takes a swallow of his still warm coffee.

"While I would advise the children to stay out of Mutant Town, it isn't as important for you. Just know that is is a sad area, filled with desperate people."

Sad understanding of the sort a modern person experiences when someone talks about the suffering of children in the early part of the industrial revolution or the plight of slaves in early American history washes across Merle's face as her father talks about Mutant Town, and the implication that similar communities exist in other cities. For a while she simply eats her breakfast and then says, "So it was a good idea to have masked my appearance when I went out," softly unsure if this Kurt will be as offended -- at society -- by her need to do so as her father often was.

"You have an image inducer too?" Kurt looks as if he perks for a moment, pulled from his thoughts regarding Mutant Town. "It is handy. Would I say necessary? Probably not.. but perhaps you should have it handy regardless. There is only one other woman that looks like you, und.. to be mistaken for her would be quite bad." Mother. "Some only know us by reputation, und would not be able to tell the difference. Blue woman would be as far.. und neither of you have fur."

Kurt bamfs out into the living room, only to reappear on the couch (without spilling a drop!), and perches more than sits, his tail wrapping about his feet. Yes, shoes on the couch.. "I don't use it as often as I did. I tend to leave it home." He exhales softly, that sigh sounding again, and he blinks pupil-less yellow eyes. "I think you saw the papers? Sentinels in Mutant Town? Your story of Sentinels against us sounded all to.. possible. We do have them here, und even though we put Trask away, there are more that crop up. This last batch, the government claims to have no knowledge of. Und, I am willing to believe them."

Having finished her breakfast, Merle takes her plate to the sink and then carries her tea out to the living room. "Naa," she says as she sits down in the chair she has grown accustomed to sitting in. She then explains, "I have a few stock illusions I used. Been preferring to go out as a brunette lately. When my natural blue would draw too much attention." She waggles the fingers of her free hand in the air and softly voices a single word in what sounds like Latin and soft purple lights dance in the air in front of Kurt's face for a moment before she stops and laughs slightly at something she thinks of in that moment.

"Ah.. ja.. your mother's daughter," Kurt responds, and can feel the magic in the air the moment the finger-wiggling begins. The short blue fuzz on the back of his neck rises, and while it's a familiar feeling, there's something that's different. It's just something he'll get used to. He can feel Illyana's, Amanda's.. and now, Blue's.

Swiping a hand in front of his face, as if that'll dispel the purple, Kurt leans back a little. Looking too much like a blue cat there for a moment! The coffee must needs be finished, however, and he takes a couple more swallows before bamfing into the kitchen to put his cup in the sink. He'll wash the dishes later... or rather, set them into the dishwasher! No grease pan hands for the fuzzy elf!

"I need to go to the school, but I'll be back later, I'm sure. If you have any questions, because I've noticed you've been studying a bit.. make sure you write it down to ask me later."

* bamf*

Have * bamf* will travel!

Location: Amanda Sefton's apartment in New York City Time: early to mid-morning on the 30th of May

Merle is sitting in the chair she has grown accustomed to occupying -- ever since sitting down with her 'parents' for the first time in this world -- with her legs pulled up under her. A pair of terry cloth and rubber soled house slippers lay on the floor in front of the chair and she is wearing a pair of white silk pajamas (or as she says it "pyjamas"). There is a faint lingering scent of brimstone in the air blending with the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon and the aromatic smell of the Earl Gray tea that the young, cornflower blue mutant is drinking -- having acquired it from a store in the past few days.

Merle is currently alone in the living room, enjoying her drink and contemplating something internally in the lingering silence left behind after her 'father' departed.

Perhaps it's the smell of breakfast that draws her out from her bedroom, but by the time Amanda does emerge, she's fully dressed, her hair tied back in a loose tail, and more-or-less ready to face the day. She's actually spent a couple of hours in meditation, first thing this morning, as is her normal habit. Top up her mystical energies, because she never knows just what the day will throw at her and, lately, it's been throwing a lot of crap her way.

That said, she's fully healed now, and moves without a trace of pain or fatigue. The potions did their work splendidly. Not even a trace of a scar remains on her body, and, with the help of her meditation, her damaged psyche is coming around, too.

She glances over to where Blue sits, as she passes through towards the kitchen and gives her an easy smile (by far less short-tempered now that she's healthy and hale again) and a light "Good morning."

In the kitchen, she sets about preparing her own pot of tea, not being at all fond of Earl Grey, and checks to see just what's left of the rashers and eggs. She doesn't expect much -- she knows Kurt's appetite, and isn't disappointed. (And, wow, with 3 extra mouths in the house, she's seriously going to have to go grocery shopping again soon!) Ah well. A couple of slices of toast into the toaster will work well enough.

In the kitchen Amanda finds a pot of water, no longer hot enough to make tea with immediately, but ready to be reheated. There is a pot in the sink which had been used to make the bacon and scrambled eggs -- scrapped out so that cleaning it later won't be too horrific a chore -- and a fork and plate that were obviously used to eat the eggs.

As her 'mother' passes her, Merle looks up and smiles back at Amanda. "Good morning," she says, catching herself before she starts to add the title which wants to flow off the tongue but feels slightly strange in this context. She calls out, "D-... uh... he was upset that his donuts were missing," stumbling over that title as inelegantly as she had avoided doing so over the other.

Amanda smiles at the report, ignoring the dishes in the sink in favor of relighting the kettle. "It's fine if you just want to call him Kurt," she replies. "Neither of us expect you to replace your real parents with us." Indeed, being called 'Mom' or 'Mother' would be a little shocking to her.

While the toast browns, she hunts around for the butter and raspberry jam, setting each on the counter and drawing out a butter knife and small plate to go with them.

"And, if he wants his doughnuts to last," she notes with a chuckle, "he should know better than to bring them to a party full of his own kin." And thus people likely to share his tastes. "Or buy extras to accommodate them."

Merle laughs softly about the donuts and smiles at the comment about the names. "It’s just really hard to adjust to," she says, "Really, it’s the hardest part of this. When I close my eyes and listen to you talking you sound just like her. You're simply too young looking though so the illusion is ruined when I look at you."

She then sips at her tea again and then asks, sounding like she's afraid she's going to be the butt of a joke as she does so, "What do you have against loafers?"

The toast pops and Amanda scrapes butter over the slices and then jam. "Nothing," she says lightly. "Otherwise, I'd have kicked Kurt out long ago." It's a joke. The amusement is there in her voice. She's not serious.

The kettle starts to whistle and she pours out the water into her cup, over the teabag she placed there. Then, with breakfast in hand, she returns to the living room, to curl into her own usual chair, the same one she claimed the night Merle first arrived.

Merle laughs at the joke. Honest and sincere laughter, nothing like one would expect if she were simply humoring the other woman. "I like that!" she exclaims as she takes control of her laughter and sips at her tea. "I actually meant the shoes of course. He said you have a thing against loafers when I told him that I liked his trainers," she explains using the British term that is equivalent to 'sneakers' in America.

"Ah," Amanda says, setting her tea on a side table, her plate, a paper towel tucked beneath it, in her lap. She chuckles now. "The only thing I have against loafers is that they're ugly." A beat, a grin. "Though, honestly, I was just giving him a hard time because his kept leaving footprints on my ceiling." She chuckles again. "Not that his Chucks are any better."

Sure, Kurt's supercling power doesn't work through the soles of his shoes, but his hands are plenty strong enough and he still uses his feet for traction. So... Yes. Footprints on the ceiling. Thank God for magic stain removal.

Merle groans when Amanda mentions footprints on the ceiling. "I remember having to clean those," she says sympathetically, "Chore magic was something y-... my mother that is, taught me early on... and then forbad me to use for anything I could do without it." She grins as she says the last showing that while her words might be able to be interpreted as saying her mother was a harsh taskmistress the relationship wasn't anything like that in actuality.

Amanda smiles at that. Yes, it does sound like something she'd do and say. "Yes, well, Kurt was fortunate, as a child, that we lived under canvas. Otherwise, he'd have been the one scrubbing." Half the time, she makes him do it, now. Because, no. She doesn't commonly spend magic on trivial tasks. When she's in the greater part of the Way's cycle, she stores up magic in disposable artifacts and potions for those times when the Way is in its lesser cycle and she needs the extra boost. Unlike her own mother, she's not willing to sit back and hide during the waning days.

The Winding Way. Yes, that is also something this woman who looks like her mother and the version of her that still seems more 'real' to Merle have in common. It’s not something they've discussed yet and Merle's expression briefly shows that tale-tell sign that there is something that should be discussed but she tries to quickly hide it behind her cup only to flush the rich mauve that shows up when she blushes as she finds the cup to be completely empty. She chuckles softly at herself and then nods about the canvas. "Yeah, I grew up on circus stories," she says distractedly.

Amanda cants her head somewhat, enjoying some of her toast as she regards her 'daughter'. "I bet you did," she agrees. Blue eyes study a blue face. She's pretty good at reading people. It comes with her job -- all of them.

"What's on your mind, Merle?" she asks presently. "You've got the same crease between your brows Kurt gets when he's working on something."

"Well, you know I've been spending a lot of time in the internet researching this world's history," Merle says, "So I feel like I'm leaving you two at a disadvantage, what with me having crib notes I can read where as you two are depending on hearing my storey directly from me." Realizing she is still holding her empty cup she sets it down on the coffee table before finishing by saying, "I just don't know what you would want to know next."

Amanda arches a brow at that. "Nothing," she admits. "Merle..." A wry smile touches her lips and she sets her plate aside to lean forward. "Leibste, did I -- the other I -- not teach you anything about the basic tenants of future knowledge? There is no guarantee that the timeline you come from is the timeline we're in here. Look at TJ? She's here, too, and with her own set of future knowledge and experiences that doubtlessly diverge from yours in at least a dozen ways" Not the least of which is the fact that Wanda was Kurt's wife, rather than Amanda, and TJ their daughter, but never mind.

The blonde sorceress sits back now, laying her hand on the arm of the chair. "I don't doubt that the knowledge you possess will lend a different perspective to what we now face. And may even be quite helpful in identifying some of the pitfalls we might otherwise fall into. So, as far as that goes that perspective you're welcome to tell me as much as you'd like. Forewarned is forearmed."

She gives a gentle smile. "So, it's not that I don't want to hear about your life and my possible future -- I admit to being quite curious. It's rather that I don't consider your experiences to be the sole and inevitable outcome. Shätzchen, it's entirely possible you may never be born in this reality." In fact, it's very likely that will be the case. But, she doesn't want to come right out and say that. "Our future isn't written, yet."

Merle chuckles and shakes her head. "I didn't mean your future history, Amanda. It is quite obvious that this cannot ever become my world, so what would be the point," she says. Then, looking the other woman in the eyes, she says, "I just figured you might want to know more about who I am, although the way you have accepted me is in itself very heart warming." She pauses and then says, "Although if, for some reason, you aren't comfortable with that I understand. Just... seems to me there's more about me you should know and like before I'm not totally sure where to start..." she trails off thinking farther on that subject, maybe she'll find a place on her own even if not asked any questions.

"Ah," Amanda says softly. "I see..." She comes from a long line of magic users and has been raised with a very private demonic teleporter... not to mention all the mutants she's dealt with over the years. Prying questions aren't usually high on the list of 'acceptable behavior' amidst such. "Why don't you just start at the beginning -- whatever it is you think of as the beginning. I'm sure I wouldn't know where to start."

Merle nods and sits up straighter. She's about to talk to the closest thing she has to her original 'Master' -- magically speaking -- she's ever going to find again probably and discipline is important in such situations. "I was born with the ability to sense magic. Both of my parents could tell this. So, I was taught magic from an early age. That said, even though it can be fun, I wasn't always as disciplined at my studies as you... sorry, mother... would have liked. I'm 'ok' for the most part. I am a better alchemist than a spell caster and I have what mother called an 'acceptable' variety of spells," she pauses for a moment there before continuing incase Amanda wants to clarify anything so far.

Amanda's lips twitch -- partly at the formality, and partly at the clarification of whom she speaks. She rolls her hand to indicate 'don't worry about it, just go on', and reaches for her tea. "Perhaps I'll run you through some paces, later," she says, that smile still on her lips.

Merle nods and smiles broadly. She gets the hint and relaxes her shoulders noticeably before she continues. "I cannot teleport naturally like Kurt can. Mother designed a spell that capitalises on the bond I have with the dimension he teleports though so that I can pamph. It’s... a little different than my father's so I assume that maps to Kurt's bamfs here; I can take groups more easily... but I cannot rapid fire port like dad was famous for. Also, I have mastered illusions to the point where I can mask my appearance. I did that when I went shopping the other day... felt it was prudent to do so since I wasn't sure if there was a risk of persecution here or not." She leaves out the additional risk of paparazzi she'd face at home.

She wouldn't have to worry about paparazzi here, likely as not. But, persecution? "It's a crap shoot," Amanda admits. "I've seen it go both ways, depending on where you go. Generally, I recommend a disguise, yes, but that's more for others' comfort than your own. You should never be forced to conceal who you really are." And god knows she's been seen in public countless times with Kurt in his natural form. That doesn't mean there haven't been... incidents.

Merle grins so broadly that it looks like a slash of white across her blue skin. "Hey, I'm not ashamed of being blue and beautiful," she says confidently, "But sometimes it is nice not to stand out /quite/ so much." She probably sounds very much like Kurt does on the subject -- go figure. "Like Kurt, and from what I can tell TJ as well, I blend into shadows when I want and can see in the dark," she explains these like they are completely normal -- what with growing up as Kurt's kid they are of course. "I have one other ability of note. I can channel magical energy into offensive blasts," she says and then chuckles before adding, "Mom was surprised when that ability manifested. Unfortunately it was in the middle of a temper tantrum."

Amanda snirks, now. "Oh, I bet..." Yeah. She'd not have enjoyed that, either. But, most of the list she hears is a fair balance of what she and Kurt together can do, so she can't really say she's surprised. Though, she's not sure why other-she would have given the girl a teleport spell that passes through Hell. Because, really, she doesn't like Hell. At all. And doesn't use it for her own teleport spell.

Of course, in the world Merle comes from -- as is true of most parallels with Kurt Wagner in them -- there is little comprehension of the dimension he (and now his daughters) travel though. So, Amanda's older counterpart cannot truly be blamed for having set her daughter up to access such a place. And now back to our story at hand...

Merle stretches her arms and unfolds her legs from beneath her, slipping her feet into the house shoes. "That's pretty much it. I mean, I'm combat trained also and I'm way into freerunning, but power-wise that's me." Merle pauses and looks at the clock on the wall, seeing afternoon approaching and says, "I've been lazing about the past few days, I really ought to get up and get some exercise." However, she leaves it open by asking, "Did you need me for anything though first? Should I do the breakfast dishes for example?"

Amanda smiles at that. "Oh, by all means," she says. "Feel free." You use it, you clean it. That's her policy. (Unless it's a shared meal, then it's: he who eats, cleans.) She pushes herself out of her chair and takes her now empty plate and cup to the sink, herself. "But, thank you for telling me all of this. It's interesting." She turns to smile at her. "I need to run some errands myself." And go grocery shopping. "So, I'll leave you to it? There's a spare key in the flower pot on top of the fridge."