2012-07-31 Supporting a Friend

[NYC]- Upper West Side - The Dorilton - Penthouse

It wouldn't make sense for a Worthington to have anything but the Penthouse for his domicile unless it's a large mansion on the Upper East Side. But, being a 'trendy youth' meant that Warren III wanted to be on the Upper West Side for now and he managed to find a place to suit him perfectly. The penthouse has been designed as a fairly open-style Loft with high ceilings and very few enclosed rooms. The decor is modern, luxurious, but not too over-the-top. Along two sides of the penthouse are floor-to-ceiling windows which look out on an amazing view of the city. One window is really a door which leads to a wide balcony, perfect for small, intimate soirees or starwatching.

--

Warren didn't hang around after the press conference. He didn't even fly off, which was his first instinct, but he realized that might just add fuel to the fire so he ducked away from the reporters and shoved himself into a limo. After a few blocks, he got out and did actually fly the rest of the way back to his apartment. His jacket is off and draped over a chair as he pours something into a glass from his bar. It may be the middle of the day, but after that announcement, he definitely needed a drink. Maybe several.

Truth be told, the announcement came as a suprise to Kurt, and after hearing about it, there simply was no thought given; he had to come see his friend. Precious few of those around, and he's one of the few that can actually //duck// reporters. After a courtesy cell phone text that simply said 'Incoming!', there appeared a blue, fuzzy elf.

Now settled on the couch, his tail settled around him, Kurt watches as Warren pours the drink. He's waved off any offer of the same hard stuff; instead, he's got a glass of ice water.

"I am sorry it came to this, mein freund," and he does sound genuinely sorry. "In a way, I had hoped for a strong ally in your father's company against the scanners. Or.. at least something to counter such a thing." But that is a little self-serving, and he knows it. Rising to his feet again, yellow eyes are on Warren. "I am sorry. I cannot help but think this was the most difficult of all choices for you."

"It's not about the scanners, Kurt. They won't do that. I -know- that...I mean, there have been debates about metal detectors in our offices and even those got shot down. It's just policy. There may have been allies besides my dad, but there was a vote." Warren takes his drink...a double...and then turns to perch on a backless stool nearby, "It's just stepping backwards...like saying they won't hire any Blacks or homosexuals. It's just the newest 'deviance' to hate and I'm hoping it blows over soon." He takes a long drink, "I couldn't stay like I was. It's hard, but honestly, I feel like a weight has been lifted."

"Perhaps," and Kurt rises from his seat, the glass cradled in his hands, his tail coming straighter behind him, "It can one day be worked for-" and he pauses in his words before he hangs his head. "I must apologize," comes instead, his words a little heavier for the accent. "I am acting like a zealot, rather than like a friend." Now, he approaches his friend to put a hand out to rest on Warren's arm. "There is freedom in truth. You can," here, comes a smile, and it shows his pointed teeth, "stretch your wings now.. and truly fly. Never worrying if someone will see you. They will think what they will.. but I can tell you with all honesty.." Here, Kurt pauses dramatically, and takes the step back, "White, feathery wings are sure to be a hit with the girls."

"Or a big, white feathery target. I'm less worried about myself than anyone I might be hanging out with," Warren even manages a bit of a smile then though. "I don't want different treatment just because my genes are different. I wouldn't want to be treated differently if I wanted to date boys and if I was, it would be a 'hate crime'. We need that sort of awareness too. Attacking us needs to be a 'hate crime' as well." He takes another drink from the cup, "I'll have to fly up pretty high. I don't want to be accused of being a peeping tom. Maybe I can get a job as a window-washer?"

Kurt chuckles at the suggestion of becoming a window-washer, and shakes his head. "You would get too many streaks.. each beat of your wings.."

Kurt remains standing now, taking a sip at the ice water. "It should be a hate crime, I agree. But any crime against another is born of hatred, regardless. Or apathy. Or.. simply a disregard for another. I simply wish that 'our side' had less.. on their hands. Not that the crimes against us are warranted." He wants to make that crystal clear.

Now that they're speaking of broader things for the moment, Kurt makes the observation, "Should your Father's company come around, things would then work in our favour. To 'see the light' for such a remarkable company could lead the way for others." "There are always militants...look at PETA, for one. The problem is, we're scarier. We look different...or we can blast apart buildings with a glance." Warren looks out one of the windows from his seat before he turns back to Kurt, "I hope they'll come around. It might take some time, but I know my dad likes to be the pioneer in things like this. That Board Meeting went on for hours. I know he's going to keep pushing them but until we see what happens because of my little stunt, we won't know."

"I could not imagine that he would not speak to you about such things, even if you aren't there anymore.. ja?" Kurt roams around the room before he settles back on the couch, taking care that he doesn't perch. It is a more comfortable position, but.. "It is true.. and there are sadly many who would seek to put non-mutants 'in their place', which.. is not good. We are scarier looking- would you like to meet me in a dark alley?" He waves a three-fingered hand and accompanies the gesture with a smile, "If you didn't know me, that is." There's the full-on belief that his friend would probably be happy to see him in a dark alley.. relieved, even! Warren nods, "He'll probably update me. I'm not disowned, just...out of a job." He looks about his apartment, "Maybe I should renovate. Since I can't be a window-washer of course. It'll give me something to do. Or I could write a novel -- 'I was a Teenage Mutant'. Naah." At least his spirit seems to be a bit lighter. "No offense, but I've seen scarier in dark alleys. Like Hank with his twinkies."

Kurt chuckles, "Then I will have to try harder." He looks at his friend opposite him, and the smile remains. "I am glad you are taking it all well. If there comes a time when you need an ear, please think of me." He takes another swallow of his water, and rises from his seat once more; not putting it on the coffee table, but rather, he'll set it on the counter in the kitchen. "If you do decide to write a book, I will look for my name in the 'acknowledgments', simply so I have something I can show my friends." His claim to fame? "I think, however, that a simple box of Twinkies would be a frightening sight in a dark alley. How exactly are they food?" Even if he does eat them- when offered, that is. "It's either take it well or throw myself off of this building with my wings in their brace, Kurt. Frankly, it's a bit manic right now. I don't know if the next time I go out, I'll be shot down on the street or what." Warren finishes what's in his glass and goes to pour another one. "I just have to figure out what to do with myself now. No job...no real reason to go to the Institute and get them in trouble..." he shakes his head. "I never understood twinkies. They just taste like chemicals to me."

"It is like that every day, Warren.. und then the day comes when you look at yourself in the mirror and decide that what you have is a gift. Und if you are shot down in the street, you die with the dignity of knowing who you really are." Kurt chuckles, and as he returns from the kitchen, his tail sways, "Not that any of us have a wish to die any time soon. I do not wish to, and I am certain you do not either."

Approaching his friend, those yellow eyes turn concerned; even his pupil-less eyes are the window to that soul. "There are always incoming students. I understand from Talia that there is a young girl with butterfly wings interested in studying with us." Wings! "Besides, I would like to see you there more often, if only to know that you are stretching your wings and getting some flying in. Or, perhaps, in the Danger Room to keep you on your toes."

"Knowing I won't need to stuff my wings into braces and a jacket will help," Warren admits, "But if anyone knows about that, it would be you. So thanks," He lifts his glass as if in a toast to his friend. "Incoming students? I don't have a teaching license and even then, what would I teach? And I'd have to live in those tiny dorm-like rooms that they give you when I have this?" He spreads out his arms to indicate the apartment. "I fly..often at night here, but I fly. Why do you think I chose this space in this building?"

Kurt inclines his head in a 'your welcome', and he pauses in his step. "It is a private institution," he reminds. "But.. business and finance?" Beat. "How to dress for success? You do know how to wear a tuxedo. Und some of them could use a hair cut." Not that the elf doesn't need one of his own at the moment!

A deep breath is taken, and exhaled in the news of his friend's.. flying well-being, and he offers a quiet, "Gut.. It is a rather nice spot. I could easily perch, and.. be mistaken for a gargoyle. Und you, a UFO?"

Warren coughs as he was caught mid-sip, "What teenager is going to want to hear about how to balance a bank account or invest money or learn how to read a stock report? I remember disliking having to study anything in school and just wanting to be flying and sailing when I was that age." There really weren't any girls to chase after either as Jean and Scott were pretty much always together. "I like having my space here. They don't really need me there anyhow." He finishes off that sip, "If you wanted to perch outside you could. But it's high enough that most wouldn't notice and the windows are mirrored on the other side so people can't look in. I made sure of that."

"What teenager likes any study?" comes in direct response. "If they are mutants, it is something they have to know.. und if anything, even more than a non-mutant." Kurt can't help a laugh at the fact that he'd caught his friend in mid-sip, even if it wasn't intentional.

When it comes to the crux of the matter, at least what the blue elf sees as important, his voice lowers, "There is a difference between 'need' and 'want'. You are always wanted. Need, well.." Kurt shrugs his shoulders gently, though the gesture isn't dismissive, "One never knows when one is needed until.. they are."

The news, however, that he has permission to be a gargoyle is met with a wide grin, and Kurt *bamfs* out to the porch in order to take a 'test perch', his tail gently swaying. "Sanctuary!"