X-Men OC woke up. He's not pleased.

[electro_psycho]

Are you fuckin' kidding me? Do you have any idea where t' put me? You waited too long, so the one game I might've been able to go to has gone silent, I'm still living on the streets, and now I've got, what, enough savings left to get me through the week? Christ, I never thought anybody would be a worse planner than me, but here we are.

This is bad and you should feel bad. For dropping me and picking me up again. Mostly the drop, though. I actually made a goddamn friend for once, a mutant at that, and then you canned me. I don't care about your reasons or your big is-Mads-a-bad-representation-of-West-Virginia handwrining. West Virginia is a bad representation of West Virginia. We literally call it West By God. Remember that? You're not gonna make that sound worse than it actually is.

...and alright, alright, I'll admit it, you jackass, [he mutters, taking a long drag of his cigarette and avoiding eye contact,] I may have made you uncomfortable with my less than enlightened view on kissin' guys. Look, I'm not going to apologize for that 'cause that's not my fault, mostly. I got shit I need to unlearn. But if you drop me again, I can't unlearn it. So it's still on you, just as much as me, okay?

Comments

[god_of_hellfire]

[John is not so subtly cackling to himself.] West Virginia? Shit, really?

[electro_psycho]

Yeah. That's about how most people feel about being from there, too. We just don't say it where other people can hear it. State pride and all that over-invested BS. [He waves a hand dismissively, as if to say 'what can you do'.] Could be worse. At least we're not New Jersey.

[shadowblends]

I'm willing to bet there are worse places than West Virginia. [he shrugs, hands upturned and his head tilting against his left shoulder.] But who knows? There's plenty of world to travel to find out.

[kurt grins with amusement, prominent canines peeking past the blue of his lips as he lowers a hand so he can rest it on his hip.] Also, your mun sounds like they have just as much trouble as my own when it comes to planning. She never seems to think ahead, until whoops— [he pauses, eyes rolling, tail flicking with indignation.] It's too late.

Oh! My mun says I should mention there are a few games that you could still go to. The two she has me in might be options? It all depends on what your mun is looking for.

[he stops again, long enough to have the decency to look sheepish about his rambling before he gives the slightest wave with the limb he still has raised.] Probably should have said it sooner, but. [sometimes, his mouth gets ahead of him.] Hi.

[electro_psycho]

[He rolls his eyes, half in exasperation, half in fondness. Madrigal has mixed feelings on his home state, because while it did produce the good things in his life - his mother, pepperoni rolls and a halfway decent childhood - it also produced anti-mutant sentiment at record high numbers.] You're only saying that because you haven't had to deal with the snakes there. Fun fact: they can swim. Makes the community pool into its' own little sideshow.

Dunno if mine's ever had a plan beyond 'throw things at things, see what pans out'. I can't believe I'm saying this, but even I got more foresight and I'm, well, me. [He gestures to himself idly, a mishmash of layered secondhand clothing, stolen cigarettes in his other hand and faint blood droplet stains on his jacket from a fistfight earlier. He knows he's poor impulse control incarnate, but there's still a little bit of control there, even if it's rarely used these days.] Plus my mun's distracted by his stupid novel and the cavalcade of cretins in that; like anyone reads anymore?

Hell if I know what he's looking for. I don't even know what I'm looking for, more often than not. But options are nice. [Especially if they involve Kurt - no wait that sounded gay - no wait he kind of is - stop, he mental berates himself, taking a long, hard drag on his cigarette. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. This is why he bailed to begin with.

This is why he didn't want to say hi back, because for all the machismo and homophobia built into the culture of the area he grew up in, Kurt looking sheepish undoes all his facades of toughness. He exhales smoke and looks away for a moment. His voice gets softer, less brash.] Hey. You been doing alright?

[shadowblends]

[seems like wretched home lives are a thing mutants have in common on most days. kurt was lucky with his circus family and ironically so, given the circumstance of his demonic appearance. maybe that's what made him perfect in germany, though. well, that, and the fact he's a natural acrobat.] You make it sound like I've never dealt with sideshows and snakes before. [more of the former and less of the latter, but small details.

his head tips in thought, golden eyes blinking.] I mean, that'd be a start, wouldn't it? [he watches madrigal motion over himself, over the clothes, cigarettes-- all of the things that make the other mutant ... him, aside from the blood. that's new and questionable, but he doesn't feel it's his place to question it just yet.] I still read, [the blue boy notes.] My mun does, too, when she can find the time anymore.

There are a few, regardless of indecisiveness. [nightcrawler doesn't need words to tell him that madrigal is having mental turmoil; the way he hits that cigarette, like the nicotine and smoke will fog out the thoughts running through is head tells him all he needs to know.

it also makes him stay put where he's at, some feet away with both hands moving to tuck behind his back.] I'm— [a pause, his lips pursing together. could be better? could be worse? is there something specific he should respond with or—] Surviving, [he decides.] What about you?

[electro_psycho]

[At least Madrigal can blend in with most people in West Virginia. His eyes can flicker when he's using his powers, but mostly, he's nobody. In a city of poor people he's just one more piece of white trash, unnoticeable, unremarkable, and, he often thinks when he's having a bad day, unlovable.] Sideshows should not include snakes. Nothing should include snakes. That's the last semi-normal fear I've got left in me.

A start, sure. A good one, no, not really. [He does shrug, though, not as dismissive now as he started out.] Not that we've ever needed good starts to manage. And I read, too, I just like giving my mun shit and that's the easiest button to push. Though I do gotta wonder how you use a library with the whole blueberry thing going on. [At the mental image of Kurt teleporting atop a shelf, like a blue ninja, he grins briefly.

Kurt keeping his distance is... confusing. On the one hand, yeah, he's in no hurry to deal with his own emotions about the guy or hug it out. On the other, as much as it eats him up to even think it to himself, he missed him. He missed not being alone. Isolation, albeit isolation in the crowd, does some real damage on his mood he can't fight off with cigarettes and swearing, despite his best efforts.]

'm okay. As okay as I could be, I guess. You know me, I make things work. [By which he means he steals and fights and forces himself forward until he's gotten through another day alive with far less grace and moral clout than Kurt has.] ...this is awkward as shit. I wish you drank so we could have this conversation semi-not-sober. Honesty works better with beer.

[That's as close to addressing the elephant in the room as he can get right now. God help him, he's trying, doing his best to push past his own hang ups and discomfort and man up and face this, but it's not easy. It's especially not easy sober, but he never got smashed when Kurt was around. It would have felt wrong, would have made him feel guilty to impose his own comfort with alcohol on his friend, so here they are: sober, awkward, and fumbling towards a conversation that cannot possibly end well.]

[shadowblends]

[he certainly has that going for him, yes, and glowing eyes can at least be hidden behind sunglasses. something that'd remind him of scott; kurt often wonders how many people ask him why he wears them during the night, if he happens to be around non-mutants. hopefully, even though it's only a bad day, madrigal ends the night knowing he isn't unloved.] You're afraid of snakes? Huh. [his lips quirk.] Learn something new every day.

Oh. [dark eyebrows knitting together, he slackens ever so slightly, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. kind of like when he gives peter trouble about eating all those twinkies? seems similar, regardless of the strange comparison between books and food. madrigal is smiling, though, and his own fangs bare a little more.] Very carefully. Being able to crawl across the ceiling helps when it's crowded.

[admittedly, kurt's first reaction had been to run up to him, maybe throw his arms around the other boy in an embrace, but something told him to control himself. standing here now, with awkward tension lingering between them somehow feels so much worse.]

... that's good, [he says, voice softening with relief.

this time, the darker-haired boy doesn't second guess himself. he strides forward with renewed purpose, reaching a hand out for madrigal's shoulder.] A lot can happen in a year. I've drank now. [a beat.] Not often, but if drinking would make you more comfortable, make this easier for you ... It's an option, yes? [a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, after all.]

[electro_psycho]

[He likes being a nobody in the crowd, more often than not. Every now and then someone in his old neighborhood might remark upon his blonde hair, the color being more common in women than men, but it was never more than a snide remark. Kurt wouldn't make it down the street back in Madrigal's old hometown, and that bothers him on some level. The world shouldn't be like this.] D'you know how hard it is to zap something that small that moves like that? Lay off me. [It's said without much venom, though. He knows Kurt just finds the juxtaposition funny.

He raises an eyebrow, grinning after a moment.] I was joking, I didn't think you actually went in. Dumb question: wouldn't it be less dangerous t' go in after they close with a flashlight and grab books? I mean, so long as you returned them either way...

[Madrigal's burned through the last of his current cigarette, so he puts it out on the ground, grinding it underneath his heel out of a lingering fear of starting a fire - he'd seen that happen enough back home to know better. With his hands in his pockets, he cuts a less intimidating figure than he'd like, thinner than he used to be, a bit more worn-down looking, the bags under his eyes darker. He's got half a mind to go over and hold onto Kurt like he's the last good thing in the world. Unfortunately, the other half of his mind is still yelling at him to deny everything, cut and run.

Ultimately Kurt makes the decision for him and it's good to feel the other mutant's hand on his shoulder, to know he's really here, and then before he can help it his arms wrap around Kurt's waist, pulling him close for a moment.] I thought Catholics weren't big on drinking? An' I don't think it'd actually make it better; that stuff's like a truth serum on me, which would be helpful if it didn't also make me overrun at the mouth. [Pulling back, he shrugs and adds, with a self-deprecating wince,] I've done dumber shit than drink in the last year. I shouldn't be judging. Sorry.

[shadowblends]

[west virginia surely wouldn't be the only state kurt'd have trouble. there are loads of other places where he knows he would be less than welcome, which is exactly why he stays where he does. out of sight, out of mind is how he likes to think about it, despite the fact it makes him feel like garbage most of the time.

then, there are those few people that talk him, treat his blue skin as if it's nothing abnormal and they are who matter-- not the bigoted idiots that can't see past his peculiar features long enough to get to know him.] I'm not making fun! It's just— you do know they're more afraid of you than you are of them, right? I'm also not disproving your fears because some snakes are terrifying.

[he chuckles, offering an easy shrug at the question.] Probably, but I've found a library with a secret. [turning to glance over his shoulder, like someone might be listening before he's bringing his attention back to madrigal.] One of the ladies that works there is a mutant. She lets me know if it's safe and sneaks me books all the time.

[now that he's close enough to get a better look at the electric-wielder, concern creases his brow, his lips turning down. while kurt himself hasn't changed all that much — he's still tall and lean and richly blue, decorated in intricate scars, iridescent eyes glimmering with a light that's somehow never faded — the way his friend(?) looks makes him wonder just what hell he has been through without him. in turn, it makes him feel guilty for not being there, although he doesn't have time to dwell on that because those are definitely arms around his waist.

nightcrawler blinks, surprise briefly registering across his face before he relaxes, moves both arms to encircle madrigal's shoulders in a firm hug. he drops his head and releases a quivering breath, hoping that his frame isn't shaking like his sigh.] We aren't. Regardless of our differences, we're only human, though. We do things that would be frowned upon, but my God is a benevolent one. [he loosens his hold when the other boy draws back, scoffing at his words, except his lips lift once more.] Don't apologize. I'm sure you did whatever necessary to survive.

[electro_psycho]

[Kurt wouldn't be as disliked in Louisville, in Kentucky - Madrigal remembers well his mother's descriptions of the insane amount of performers trying to get their careers started there, from rodeo to singers. If nothing else pans out, he and Kurt could try their luck there, assuming they ever get back to the point they're close enough he can bring up those kind of suggestions. It'd be an honest living, at least.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.] I'm guessing you've never been on the receiving end of that proud Southern traditional prank where someone puts a snake in a bag and the bag through your window. It doesn't do the snake's temperament any favors.

Ah. [Some of the tension goes out of his shoulders.] Well, so long as it's safe, then I can't complain. I just didn't want to think of what might happen if you got caught. You know you can always just send me into places to get things you can't, right? Might as well make use of my generic white trash looks.

[The scars will never stop being fascinated to Madrigal, much as he knows he probably looks stupid staring at his friend's skin like that. He doesn't like his own scars, which have been obtained through bad decisions and moments he'd rather not think about, but on Kurt scars look almost beautiful, which is another one of those maybe-gay-maybe-straight thoughts that makes him uncomfortable to have. He wishes he could figure out what he was feeling for five seconds without his old upbringing rising up in his head to tell him to feel guilty.

Kurt feels warm and like home and Madrigal shuts his eyes for a second. Oh God, he missed this. He missed everything about this. He hates how easy it is for him to crumble when given the smallest bit of affection, how weak he really is underneath it all.] I feel like 'frowned upon' isn't strong enough language for most of what I've pulled in life. [Before he even met Kurt, he'd literally electrocuted someone, and that ranked much higher up there in the rankings of sin than a few beers might.] You, though, you make up for whatever screw-ups you have by being decent. Me, I keep digging myself in deeper. [He swallows, unable to meet Kurt's eyes.] Not exactly necessary for me. My dad managed to end up on death's doorstep. I got no love for him, [and his wavering voice denotes what a lie that is; he loves the man dearly, despite it all but I thought maybe I could keep him from mixing his painkillers with vodka, get him some kind of treatment, figure something out.

Turns out I couldn't save either of my parents. [He can't help the hot tears that start up in his eyes, so he scrubs at them, refusing to relinquish whatever's left of his manliness.] And in tryin' to take all my old man's debts on, I just ended up with a longer criminal record than I used t' have. But - I - doctors are fuckin' expensive, okay? [There's something defensive in his voice, broken, genuinely afraid of judgment, because now there's no one left but a handful of friends from the old neighborhood and Kurt and he doesn't know if he'll survive losing anybody else.]

[shadowblends]

[perhaps, it would be something to think about. anywhere that would accept them as they are with little to no trouble would be ideal in kurt's opinion. too much hate in the world, caused not only by difficulties between mutants and humans, but even amongst each other is more than absurd at this point. he'd like to continue wishing for world peace; it's an improbable thought, though, and as optimistic as he is, they can't stay somewhere that's unsafe.

his head cocks with curiosity, vivid eyes blinking.] No, I haven't. At a young age, I was taught how to handle snakes, though. Grabbing them the correct way and making sure you can secure the head is important.

[as soon as that insult leave madrigal's lips, nightcrawler raises a hand and firmly (not hard) pops the other boy in the shoulder.] Don't ever say that again, [he warns. there isn't much venom behind the threat, but the way his features downturn say plenty.] You aren't generic in any way and you definitely aren't trash. [unsurprisingly, his regret for hitting the other boy is immediate, features creasing with shame as he decides to make up for it by gingerly massaging over the spot with his palm.

madrigal may think he looks dumb staring, but the blue boy knows what he's enthralled with and he can't help the sheepish way his head dips, cheeks flaring indigo. his fellow mutant has been one of the only other people that have thought the markings were alluring, whereas most people scold him for the scarification or observe him with disgust. it feels ... good to have someone look at him without disdain again.]

Do you think I'm free of sin? I've hurt people— even killed before, but not needlessly. Not like a murderer. I know you haven't done that. [there's more he could say, yet he stops himself, focuses his attention on the way madrigal refuses to meet his eyes, how his voice shakes when he speaks of his father.

kurt's heart sinks into the pit of his stomach at the admittance, ruby-red irises dilating when he spots the tears. so, his companion's father had kicked the bucket, a cocktail of alcohol and pills that many people use and succumb to in the end. he's never experienced it first hand, but it doesn't mean he isn't sympathetic. hell, he might be even more so because this is someone he cares about.

and fuck those who say men don't cry. tears are what happens when someone's been strong for way too long-- a moment where everything finally comes down, the walls crumble and true emotions come through.] Madrigal, hey, [he urges, voice quiet, his hands gentle as he raises them to cup his friend's face.] I know. I'm sure you did all you could, but it's not your fault. There's only so much you can do for addicts. [he leans their foreheads together again, thumbing across the spots beneath madrigal's eyes to wipe the tears away.]

I'm here, you understand? And I'm not going anywhere.

[electro_psycho]

[They'd be subject to absurd rent costs. Charging someone extra for living in a safe neighborhood was embedded into the culture of the South, which Kentucky definitely counted as. At the same time, he's run himself ragged hard enough that the word 'safe' is, in and of itself, worth the extra work they'd have to pull.]

On the one hand, playing with snakes for performances without a liscense is legal in West Virginia. On the other: it involves snakes, so if you ever do that for money, I'm out.

[He rolls his eyes, trying to look dismissive, but he smiles in spite of how rough the last year has been. Kurt's the only one who doesn't look at him like he's standard white trash, standard Appalachian nothing destined for poverty. It's one of Kurt's best qualities, the way he looks at people and doesn't slot them into ready-made boxes in his head, refuses to let people take verbal shots at themselves, and it's better than Madrigal deserves, he thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud.] I'll lay off sayin' that kind of thing about myself if you let me help you out once in a while with getting things. Deal?

I - you're - we're different, Kurt. Your life was a lot harsher than mine and you still turned out you, [he gestures vaguely to Kurt's whole body,] all kind and Catholic and concerned with the world. What am I, really? [He didn't used to have that bad of an opinion of himself, all things considered, but he let his dad down. He could have been there, could have stayed and finished out high school or something instead of running away, and then he could have saved him. Running away to keep other people safe from his powers and himself safe from the local crime scene was a mistake - and he wasn't the one who paid for it.

He leans into Kurt's touch, fighting back tears as hard as he can. He's tougher than this. And if he lets himself cry, Madrigal isn't sure he'll be able to stop. The guilt is eating away at him and he can't make it go away and he wishes, irrationally, that someone would agree with him that it's his fault, just so he could feel like somebody understood. Resting his forehead against Kurt's, he shuts his eyes, tears starting to flow despite all his best efforts. He's not afraid of Kurt's opinion of him taking a dive if he breaks down, so he lets himself have a moment of weakness.]

It feels like it. Like I should've been able t' do something, [he explains, sounding both heartbroken and exhausted.] I tried, I swear to God I did, I tried everything I could, but I must've screwed up, 'cause it just wasn't enough.

You're a good guy, Kurt. I don't know what you see in me. 'm just glad you give a damn about me at all.

[Lately, he hasn't given much of a damn about himself. He prioritized his father, poured everything into keeping him alive, dreaming of some kind of miraculous turnaround where they'd be a functioning family again and live happily ever after. And when the dream twisted into a nightmare, the worst part was that he wasn't surprised, that he expected on some level to end up alone in the world.

Except Kurt wouldn't let any of his friends end up truly alone. Not even ones who'd spent a year knowingly, willingly committing crimes.]

[shadowblends]

[there'd be no arguments on his end. paying more for the extra protection would be worth it for the both of them and regardless of how much they might struggle with other necessities, he would find a way to keep their home.

he stifles a snort, moving one hand up to drop his face into the palm.] I don't think I'll have to worry about playing with snakes. I'm not sure I qualify as a handler, anyway, for what it's worth.

[as someone who's taken shots at himself for so long, the least he can do is make sure other people don't have to live with too much self-deprecation. kind words — no matter how small — and some solid encouragement here and there, could do wonders for a person's dignity. he narrows his eyes, considers the metaphorical cards that madrigal has put on the table then softens, lips quirking in another grin.] You've got yourself a deal.

[his retort dies in his throat at madrigal's inquiry. he can say, "who cares? you matter to me," until he becomes hoarse and that still won't be the answer the other mutant is looking for. much as he hates to admit it, he might be at a loss for once in his life.] The world's opinion of you really doesn't matter, does it?

[a simple question, trying to draw away from the fact his companion's struggling with his emotions. he breathes a sigh when their foreheads meet, watching the tears streaming down the face opposite his own, that awful sinking feeling returning with renewed vigor. he'd like to say that he understands, to give him some kind of relief, but he can't-- he hasn't been through this, so it's hard to give advice and there's no way he'll say madrigal should blame himself.

he wraps the electro-wielder in another embrace, holding him tight against his chest, an offer of what little stability he has. then, his cheek props up on his head, honey-tinted eyes becoming half-lidded while madrigal continues talking.] At that point, trying is all you could have done. Trying isn't screwing up, Madrigal, and that's more than some people can say.

Have you ever thought that what I see in you is the same thing you see in me? Of course I care about you— I always will, no matter what.

['hate the sin, not the sinner' seems like an oddly appropriate quote for their situation.]

[electro_psycho]

[He couldn't save his dad. A long, long time ago, he couldn't help his mother. Kurt's still here, though, and he can make Kurt's existence a little easier. After all, he can be seen in public, can go buy groceries, can do the shit that the world won't let Kurt do because of his obvious mutation. Madrigal doesn't know what he believes, or if he believes in anything at all, but if their paths are going to keep crossing, either by faith or random coincidence, he's going to try to help his friend out where he can - even if that means laying off the self-deprecation that's been his only shield lately to put between him and his emotions.] Deal. Although I can't promise anything if I get drunk. Fifty-fifty says I either get incredibly honest or very depressed, there's no middle ground. Which in and of itself has put me off of drinking forever.

[He lets out a sigh. In theory, Kurt should be absolutely right. It shouldn't matter what the world thinks. A good ninety-percent of what's come out of Madrigal's mouth since sixth grade has been one liners and snark about the world. He doesn't want to care. He's been trying not to. And maybe he can even convince himself he really, genuinely doesn't care about the world, but:] Your opinion of me matters. A lot. An' I don't know how it can still be remotely good when I've been racking up a year's worth of felonies.

[Madrigal hopes this isn't love. He doesn't know what to do with that emotion. At the same time, he has a horrible anxious, sick feeling at the thought that tells him it probably is. Kurt is easy to love and that's terrifying, fresh off the loss of his dad. Loving people makes losing them hurt beyond the point where words can convey the pain. And after fucking up and losing what little was left of his family, he can only imagine it's just a matter of time before he loses Kurt, too.

He shuts his eyes tight enough it hurts, buries his face into Kurt's chest and lets the warmth of human contact burn away the worst of the guilt. The feeling is still there, but it's dulled, the edge of the pain taken off so he can breathe.] I used to hate him. I spent so much time hatin' my dad and then, when we finally talked shit out an' got right with each other, when I finally felt like we could be a family... [He winces at the memories; the 911 call, the doctor in a too-kind tone explaining that the overdose was accidental, the cold of a West Virginia winter as he stood outside the hospital smoking and realized he had destroyed his permanent record and turned into an honest-to-God criminal just like he'd promised himself he wouldn't and hadn't even been able to save one person by doing so.] Does trying mean anything, if you don't actually succeed? [he asks quietly, voice full of clear and utter self-loathing.]

I dunno what to do anymore. I don't wanna be alone, and I wanna help you out, because I care about you. I never really stopped thinking about you. But the last time I tried to help someone out, they ended up dead and now I'm wanted in two states.

[A very good summary of the time spent trying to mend his family would be that, like the road to Hell, it was full of good intentions.]

[shadowblends]

[kurt still has no idea of his adoptive family. there have been many chances for him to possibly inquire of their whereabouts, but he feels like time never lasts long enough. teleporting can only get someone so far ahead, and even with that, it still seems like he's stuck in a 'so far behind, thought i was first' kind of deal.] Sounds like it's a good thing I don't actively keep alcohol around. [a barely there quirk of the lips.] But having some fun every now and then won't kill anyone.

[shoulders rolling in a shrug, he loosens one arm and gestures offhandedly with the freed limb.] And I've racked up a year's worth of my own detestable things. Would you like to sit down and chat about it later? Could be decent storytelling over drinks. [the blue mutant squeezes madrigal's shoulders, dips his face into his blond hair.] My opinion of you will stay the same, regardless.

[whatever it is that's between them, all kurt can recognize is that he cares about the other boy; he won't force either of them to put a label on their relationship, lest it end up driving a wedge between them. he'll be there when he's needed, continue providing however he can and just. let things be natural.

blinking is nightcrawler's only response at first, then he relaxes, draping the arm he'd moved earlier back around madrigal.] Cherish what little bit of time you did have with him. Things ... hardly ever work out the way we plan them, but we must keep moving forward. [he props his chin up on madrigal's head and releases a breath, nice and steady.] Of course it does.

[he withdraws, tilts his head as much as he can in an attempt to see madrigal's face.] I never forgot about you, either. [his hand moves, cupping beneath the shorter teen's chin to ensure they maintain eye contact while he continues.] Whatever you decide, we can figure it out together. You don't have to do this alone.