ax_main | Jack and Teddy | Backdated to the Brotherhood party

Two absolutely normal teenage guys make party small talk. Like regular teenagers do.

Billy was back to dancing, this time with Tommy and what looked like the entire Brotherhood crowd, and Teddy was beyond exhausted. Not physically, more emotionally, but either way it wasn't something that was going to be solved by flinging himself on to the dance floor. He ended up heading back to the drinks table, more for something to do and to have in his hands than for any real hope that anything there would help him relax.

Jack had found that there was a certain lacking of sophistication that he was used to in this place. The galas and celebrations he'd attended had been a bit less... Day-Glo.

"You look like a guy who could use more than just a drink," Jack commented, as Teddy approached. He was familiar with the kid, but they'd never spoken at length.

Who-? Right. Jack, who was in pretty much all of Teddy’s required classes. He looked different out of the classroom, but then, they all did tonight. Teddy nodded and gave him a half-smile, grabbing one of the random cans from the stack. “It’s been a weird day,” he offered as his explanation. “I didn’t know you knew the Brotherhood kids.” Not that Teddy did, but it was something to say.

"I don't," Jack said, shrugging. "One of our fellow students invited me. Are you in the same boat, or do you know one of these..." He moved his hand, holding his drink, in a few broad strokes back and forth across the room. "Brotherhood folks?" Jack asked.

Teddy shook his head. "It's my first time meeting them in person, though I've heard a decent amount." Relatively speaking, anyway, and most of it filtered through garbled third-hand accounts. "I'm here because of my roommate." Where were they all now? He couldn't spot Billy or the Brotherhood's twins, but Tommy was grinding up on a blue girl on the dance floor. "And his brother -- Billy and Tommy? I don't know if you know them. They're related to the other speedster and his sister." Somehow.

"I know of them," Jack said, tilting his head. "And that's, well, strange. But we're blessed, or cursed, to live in strange times among strange folk," Jack said, lifting his glass. He'd brought a bottle of gin he'd secured through the means by which he usually secured alcohol, as that was his usual drink of choice.

"Ain't that the truth," Teddy replied, starting to relax a little more. Maybe he just needed a distraction and Jack was distracting, in that lean, dark-haired way Teddy'd always been drawn to. (Not that he had any ideas - he had no clue who Jack was attracted to, if anyone, and Teddy sure as hell wasn't about to come out. But it was nice to feel that little pull and know that he probably wasn't condemned to pine hopelessly over Billy forever.)

He raised his own drink in return -- just a soda, not much point in anything else -- and took a sip. "You're local, aren't you?" he asked after a moment. At least he had the general 'from the city' vibe, and he didn't sound like Jersey. "New York?"

He took a nip of his gin; he'd been going at a steady pace, but his mutation made it, well, difficult to get really drunk. Which was fine by him; he was fine with just a light buzz. "Manhattan, yes. Born and raised," he said. "Beautiful city, really. Even the parts people say are bad have their own charm," Jack said, conversationally. "Where are you from?"

“Brooklyn. Hipster central. Not my area so much—not yet, anyway —but you know the drill.” Teddy shrugged. “I’d been camping upstate before, but this is the first time I’ve lived there. The quiet takes some getting used to.”

"I'll find it in my heart to forgive you if you're a hipster, yourself, don't worry," Jack said, dryly, though he had a feeling that Teddy wasn't. "And yes, it does. Sometimes I put on YouTube videos of traffic just to make myself feel more at home," he said, half-smirking in a way that made it unclear if he was kidding or not.

Teddy snickered. "Add some George Carlin routines to up the profanity ratio, and that sounds about right." He ran his hand over the short hair on the back of his head. "I'd make a terrible hipster. The man-bun is just not a look I could make work."

"Now, now, not every hipster has a man-bun," Jack said, chuckling. "Just like they don't all wear flannel. I have it on good authority that there are many subcategories of hipster, after all," he said, taking another sip of his gin. "It's almost as if people are highly varied in their tastes and not always easily categorized by broad statements."

"Go figure that," Teddy laughed. "I get tagged as a 'jock' so frequently that I might as well embrace it. There comes a point where it's just not worth fighting anymore."

"There's always time to change," Jack said, with a sort of emphasis that made one think that maybe that meant more to him than just five simple words. "Besides, I wouldn't tag you for a jock. You seem more... sensitive than that sort."

Both of those statements sent a faint wave of confusion through Teddy, though the latter one was more of a concern. What was he implying? Was he implying anything? It sounded like he was, but Teddy didn't know him nearly well enough to be able to guess with any kind of certainty. Better to play dumb. "I save crushing beer cans on my forehead for more formal occasions."

That got a laugh from Jack. "That would be amusing," Jack said. "I've been to a fair share of formal occasions. Trust me, that sort of activity would be something of a show-stopper," he chuckled. He took another nip of gin. "So, I was going to ask. Not much of a drinker, or do you have a mutation that makes alcohol pretty much pointless, like myself?" he asked.

"Healing factor," Teddy replied a little ruefully. "It treats alcohol like a poison. Which probably isn't that far off, all things considered, but it means drinks clear out of my system pretty much immediately. I haven't tried, but I figure I'd have to chug bottles of Everclear or something to stay ahead of it. And that just doesn't sound like a good time." He glanced at the glass in Jack's hand. "I thought your mutation had something to do with freerunning?"

"I don't think any good time could possibly involve Everclear being present," Jack chuckled. "And it does. Among other things," Jack said. "I get stronger, tougher, faster, heal quicker... the works, when I'm around people. The more people, the stronger it gets," Jack said. "I can manage a buzz, if I keep it up with liquor. Gin's my drink of choice," he said, indicating his glass. "Though I appreciate a fine bourbon, too. Vodka's also fine." He smirked. "I'm a teenager, after all."

"A 'fine bourbon,'?" Teddy quoted him back, laughing. "I dunno, man. Are you sure you're not actually forty? The guys I knew our age who were into drinking mostly focused on whatever they could swipe from their parents' liquor cabinets. Speaking of playing into stereotypes."

"Implying the 'fine bourbon' in question doesn't come from my dad's liquor cabinet," Jack replied, smirking as he took another nip of gin.

"Touche. My mom doesn't drink much so all we ever have around the house are things like cooking wine, and sweet liqueurs around the holidays." Teddy made a face. "And cherry brandy is nasty, for the record. I don't care how supposedly necessary it is for fondue."

Jack gave a nod and a smile. "My father's in stocks, so replace your standard office coffee with alcohol and you get the picture," Jack said. "He doesn't smoke, at least, so it's not quite as 'Mad Men' as you might think."

That explained the suits, and living in Manhattan. Teddy nodded. "So did you know Warren and Simon before coming here? Or is the Wall Street crowd a different set?" He'd never been entirely up on how all the various new and old money cliques intersected, just that the distinction was apparently important to some people.

"Knew of Warren, at least," Jack said. "I ran in different circles. Slightly lower, slightly less flashy circles," he explained, chuckling.

"It would be hard to get higher, from what I understand." Teddy flashed a smile back. He liked Warren. He couldn't say he knew him well, even considering the flying lessons and the whole flying brigade shopping expedition -- below the flash and the flirting Warren tucked everything real away where Teddy couldn't see it. Teddy was intimately familiar with that routine. "Is that what you want to go into once we're done here? A business degree and all that?"

Jack grimaced. "Honestly, I haven't thought about it, much," he admitted. "I'd rather be a part of something bigger. Something that actually helps people, rather than exploits..." He waved a hand, grinning lazily. "I warn you, when I'm buzzed, I tend to wax just to the right of Marx. Suffice to say, I'd rather get into something that has a palpable, quantifiable positive effect on the world."

"Nothing wrong with that," Teddy replied, his amusement momentarily replacing his disgruntled mood. "Whether you believe our powers are some kind of gift or a quirk of fate, we've been given the opportunity to make the world a better place. It would be a mistake not to."

"That, you are right about," Jack said, pointing a finger at him momentarily. "I'm not a man of faith, myself. Luck, though, I believe in. And if we lucked into this, well, we owe it to everyone else to do some good with it."

Teddy's smile got a lot more genuine, nodding along with what Jack was saying. "I'm glad to hear you say that. It feels like everyone's been on edge since the Professor's announcement, and it's not always the people you'd expect to disagree."

"That's for sure," Jack agreed, nodding along. "Still, this isn't exactly the place to discuss that sort of thing." Considering they were in something akin to enemy territory. "Which I guess is more or less my fault, since I brought it up."

"Fair point." Though what Teddy was used to talking about in clubs -- sports, who had a decent fake ID so that he didn't have to buy all the rounds of drinks, playing wingman for the other guys on the team- none of that actually applied here. Which was for the better, frankly, but it left him feeling awkward and without a script or a playbook. "And in that case," he added cheerfully enough, "you choose the next subject. Anything other than mutant politics."

"Fair enough. And for the sake of my sanity, I'll avoid regular politics, too," Jack said, smirking just a bit. "But it's good to know where you stand. And I freely admit, my party chatter repertoire is sorely lacking. Mostly talking about stock options, who is sleeping with who and who does and doesn't know, so on, so forth," Jack said, heaving a sigh. "It's refreshing to finally have parties with what's supposed to be my peer group."

Teddy laughed, ducking his head. "And here I was thinking how nice it was to be at a party that's so very different than what my peer group mostly got up to. And I think with this crowd your second topic still holds, but I'm really not a good source for gossip. What kind of parties did you go to?"

"Galas, fundraisers, that sort of thing," Jack said, shrugging. "My father viewed them as business opportunities, and mom just liked the excuse to be able to suck down wine without people looking at her like she was an alcoholic," he said, frankly. "I was sort of the family... centerpiece, I guess. Their intelligent, young son to show off. I didn't mind the attention, so much. Some of those events were fun, in their own way."

"It sounds like something out of one of those teen soaps," Teddy replied frankly, the whole thing totally out of his realm of experience. "The OC or Gossip Girl. I don't suppose there were random murders or explosions during sweeps weeks."

"At least one random murder a year," Jack said, cracking a smirk. "Have to keep things interesting, and keep our skills at bribing police sharp."

"Useful skills in any profession." Teddy glanced back out at the dance floor - Tommy and the blue girl had vanished from sight. He refused to let himself keep looking for Billy. He looked at Jack's glass instead. "Are you drinking vodka?"

"Gin," Jack said. "Brought it myself. Doesn't seem like anyone else is particularly fond of it." He gestured to the bottle, which read William Chase on it. "It's fairly strong, but depending on your mutation you should be fine. This is the stuff my father serves when he wants people to go home early."

Gin was one he hadn't tried before, and Teddy found himself momentarily curious. It wasn't like he could actually get hammered off of anything - at least not as far as he knew - and it didn't look particularly toxic. "Was that an offer," he asked with a soft laugh, "or a warning? Because you're selling it so well."

"You're gonna wanna mix it, probably," he said, gesturing to the tonic water bottle beside the gin bottle. "And it's both," he said, smiling a little, as he refilled his glass with equal parts gin and tonic water. "Nothing like a good G&T."

Teddy set his soda down and grabbed an empty glass from the diminishing stack. "Sure," he decided out loud. "What the hell." He watched Jack's mix and followed his lead, pausing to give the gin a cautious sniff before pouring some in. It had a powerful smell but not a bad one, kind of black-licoricey, kind of lemony, and kind of like flowers. Hunh. He shrugged inwardly, and lifted his glass to Jack in thanks. "Bottoms up."

Jack returned the gesture, and drank as Teddy did, and then smirked, waiting for his reaction. William Chase was strong, strong stuff, even when mixed with tonic water. That being said, it was utterly delicious. "To your liking?" Jack asked, after taking his drink.

The taste was odd, but actually... really good. It was far different from the liqueurs and sweet syrupy things Mom stocked up on for Christmas baking and her giggle-fests with her friends from pilates. If there was a buzz of any kind he didn't feel it. "Yeah." he replied, his surprise evident in his voice. "Yeah, that's really good. Who knew?"

"Other than myself?" Jack asked with a grin. "And at forty-three pounds a bottle, it should be good," Jack added with a laugh. "I don't splurge on much, but imported gin is well, well worth it."

Forty-three pounds, that was what... ninety-something dollars? Holy crap. Teddy's eyes went wide before he could stop himself from reacting like a dork. "Wow. I'll say. I'd better not get too used to it," he laughed, at himself mostly. "I'll spoil myself for anything actually in my price range."

Jack chuckled. "And at 48% alcohol content, it's just strong enough to give those of us with alcohol-resisting mutations a nice buzz," he added.

Teddy took another sip and thought about it for a second, but he didn't feel any different. Not that he really knew what it was supposed to feel like. "You think?" he asked, frowning at the glass. "Not that I've ever had much of anything this strong before, so I guess we'll find out."

"Works enough for me," Jack said, shrugging a bit. "Your mileage may vary. I can only speak about it from my perspective."

"I suppose the easy way to test it would be to throw back a couple of shots and see what happens, but that would be a waste." Teddy drank again, and if he concentrated hard, he thought he could feel something warm about it in his midsection before it was gone again.

"Gin's not a drink for you to pound back anyway," Jack said, shrugging. "Unless you're an alcoholic, I guess."

"Yeah, hard pass. I've got enough drama in my life without adding addictions on top of that," Teddy joked, without really joking. "So other than stock options, gala fundraisers and wildly expensive gin, what are you into? I see you every day in class, but -" he shrugged, acknowledging the uselessness of suggesting you could actually know someone from the answers they gave in Algebra, then flashed a teasing smile. "Symphonies, and arthouse movies with subtitles?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second. I find that subtitles are sometimes distracting and I'd rather hear a film in a language I recognize. Translation can really kill nuance, sometimes. I make an exception for Mister Kurasawa, but that's about it," Jack said, shrugging. "Otherwise, I enjoy urban exploration, both legal and illegal, if I'm being honest. I've done my fair share of trespassing on condemned properties. I'm a bit of a foodie, so restaurants of all shapes and sizes are a love of mine, too. Food is culture, in a lot of ways. Food also makes me think of human exceptionalism, as well. I mean, peppers? Onions? Things that are basically the way they are because they don't want us to eat them, and then we humans come along, and eat them for the properties that make other things not want to eat them." Jack chuckled. "It's... kind of amazing."

"Or stupid," Teddy pointed out, just because. "The line tends to be a pretty fine one sometimes. I'm never sure whether to be impressed or terrified that people actually took the time and the casualties enough in stride to figure out what part of the puffer fish was edible."

"That's a way to look at it," Jack acknowledged, nodding. "And yeah, I'll take a hard pass on fugu, ever. I think that's what it's called, the puffer fish dish."

Teddy nodded. "I have to admit that there's a part of me that's kind of curious. But I also really don't want that to be the way I find out if there's something that my healing doesn't work on."

"I agree, wholeheartedly. No reason to test the limits on something if it puts your life on the line," Jack agreed.

That deserved a raised eyebrow. "Says the man who explores condemned buildings for fun." Not that that didn't sound fun. "Have you ever run across anything paranormal?" Teddy asked, all in good humour. "Like the guys on youtube who do all the lockins in old asylums?"

"Nothing that can't be explained by the homeless or young kids with similar tastes and too much time on their hands," Jack said, easily, smiling a little. "Plenty of vandalism. One time I found a spot that someone had arranged dead mice in some sort of bizarre circle."

"Because that's not creepy at all." Teddy grinned, half-grossed out and half-delighted. "Sacrifices to Bastet?"

"I wasn't sure, but I didn't take any chances. I put a circle of salt around it, just in case," Jack said, smirking.

Teddy chuckled. "Wise man. Okay, what's the coolest thing you've ever found? Places can count."

"Hm. That's a tough one. I did find one place, which was kinda fun, it was almost like a graffiti art studio. Really, really well done murals and stuff. Just like, in the middle of an abandoned printing press building. It was nuts. I figure most of it was done by flashlight because the sun didn't get into a lot of those places really well. But some really, really good artwork. I kinda blame that place for my love of urban art."

"That's something I'd love to see, honestly. I don't suppose you'd be willing to play tour guide?" The thought of that - a private project slid into the city unnoticed - it perked up his imagination like nothing else. "My art classes were all a lot more formal - life drawing, composition, that kind of thing. But I went to the Basquiat exhibition at the Guggenheim a couple of years back and it blew my mind."

"Sadly, I think that building got torn down lately," Jack said. "But, if I find anything like it, you'll be one of the first to know and see it," he added. "And, I'd like to add, there's nothing wrong with more formal art. I appreciate the classics as much as the next guy."

Teddy had to chuckle at that one. "Your cocktail party is showing again. The average 'next guy' our age would be about ready to try and flush my head down the toilet or come up with a lot of creative insults about my masculinity for being interested in old paintings."

"Please, have you seen Botticelli?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "Nobody educated would question your masculinity for being interested in old paintings. Those kinds of people are the same people who bully people who play video games."

"Got it in one," Teddy replied dryly. "You were probably better off at the galas. Though," he did amend, "no-one here's been like that so far." That could all still change if Teddy ever- but that wasn't worth thinking about. Coming out was not in the plan.

"Please, the average number of brain cells doesn't change from here to the galas," Jack said, dismissively. "I'd rather be around people who actually know how to have fun. Besides, I'm less likely to hear about stupid things such as 'how we were better with prayer in schools,' or 'how the gays are destroying everything,'" Jack said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not allowed at the ones with football managers, though, ever since I asked one if he got into the business just so he could legally buy and sell black people," Jack said, frankly. "Apparently that struck a chord. But that was before I'd manifested and I had a bit too much gin."

Teddy couldn't help the probably-obvious wince, sober or not. "Yeah, I can see how that might not go over well." And while it was nice to hear Jack lumping the homophobia in with things he despised, there was a can of worms he wasn't going to prod. "I went to a school with weekly chapel meetings. Definitely not better. They're not exactly looking for data points in that conversation, though."

"Sorry," Jack said, to the wince. He glanced at his gin. "Maybe the drink's catching up with me. But... ugh, chapel meetings? Talk about lame. I mean, don't get me wrong, there's nothing necessarily wrong with religion. It just shouldn't lead to bigotry and irrationality, is my opinion."

"I think you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone around here who'd disagree with you on that. I'm not exactly religious," Teddy admitted. "The church and I don't see eye to eye on a number of things. But if you ever find yourself in need of a memorized bible verse," he added with a grin that felt slightly forced, "or point out all the allegorical symbols in the Sistine chapel, you know where to look."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jack replied, smirking just slightly. "So, I've been meaning to ask. You shapeshift, right?" he asked, wondering if he remembered correctly. "How's that like? I imagine it'd be pretty disorienting, but that's just a perspective from someone whose form is pretty static."

"It was at first," Teddy admitted. "It can be disorienting to catch your reflection and not be what you remember yourself looking like."

"I can only imagine," Jack said, meaning it. "Still, that's got to be all kinds of useful. A quick disguise, looking old enough that you don't get carded," he said, chuckling. "Then again, I wouldn't trade mine for anything," he admitted. "I don't think there's anyone here who would, though, bias being what it is."

"I'm a lot more familiar with parts of the New York nightclub scene than someone our age has the legal right to be," Teddy did confess, keeping his tone light. There had been times where he'd had a lot of fun, early on. "But don't ask too many details or I'll have to plead the fifth. I have to admit I wonder what it would be like to have some of the power sets I've seen so far -- teleporting is really cool. Bobby's ice control. But on the whole I really can't complain."

"Far be it from me to push a man to invoking an amendment," Jack chuckled. "Teleporting does seem neat, I do admit. I'd love to be able to just take an instant vacation. Then again, I was fortunate enough to be born into enough money to make that possible using mundane means," he said, shrugging. "I'm thinking of using a timeshare this summer, maybe, inviting a bunch of people to come and have some fun, maybe in Bermuda."

Geez, there was the life. There wasn't a whole lot of point in being jealous, mind you; it wasn't like Jack was lording it over anyone just by being honest. And in so many ways, Teddy could have had it a lot worse. "Nice. Remind me to stay on your good side this year," he added, pretty much entirely as a joke. He didn't know who Jack's inner circle were, except that they certainly didn't include him.

"You'd have to try pretty hard to stray away, at this rate," Jack returned, grinning just a little. He looked across the dance floor, seeing who was who. "I should dance with someone. Maybe one of these pretty Brotherhood gals. For, y'know, recon purposes," he chuckled.

"Go forth, young man," Teddy replied, equally cheerfully. "For recon purposes. Speaking of which, I should probably go find my roommate," he sighed a little guiltily. He'd let himself get all stressed out about stupid things when he was supposed to be there to watch Billy's back. Not that Wanda and Pietro had actually done anything, and Billy certainly hadn't ended up needing him around... but still. It was more the principle of the thing. "Make sure he's not upside down in the kiddie pool."

"At least make sure he comes up for air," Jack said, as if that was helpful. "But try to enjoy yourself, eh? That's what parties are about, last I checked."

Teddy fired off a lazy salute, adding a grin on the end. "Will do."