1964-09-14 - Angels
Summary: Jay comes to Warren's place for a discussion
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jay warren 

Warren lands on the balcony of his penthouse, the metal wings of his back folding in on themselves and retracting into his back. The shirtless mutant makes his way inside, leaving the balcony door open for Jay to enter when he arrives. Warren makes his way over to the mini wet bar and starts to make himself a heavily needed stiff drink, mostly gin with just a kiss of vermouth and a few olives. The former Angel paces the floor of his abode, combing his fingers through his golden blonde hair in an effort to push it out of his eyes.

It's a couple minutes, all truth told. Jay makes apologies to Gidget and takes off in the general direction he…sort of knows where Worthington Industries is? It's hard to stop mid-air to ask someone for directions, but eventually the crimson-feathered man finds his way to the balcony of the penthouse and lands with the soft rush of feathers battering the wind to a backwinging halt. Glancing backward, the young man takes a brief moment to appreciate the view of the city from this vantage, and also to hastily set down his coffee tin full of donations and rest his guitar there as well.

Scooping his windwhipped hair away from his face and sort of into place with his hands, Jay peers cautiously inside the penthouse and hesitates on the threshold out of politeness. Knuckles rap politely on the frame of the door leading inside, looking a little anxious, his wings shiver lightly as an emotional barometer to the situation. Jay speaks up, respectfully, "Sir?"

Warren glances over his shoulder as Jay lands on the balcony, the sound of footfalls drawing his attention. He is quiet for a moment as he just stares at Jay, or more specifically the wings that sprout from his back. "Just like mine." he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

Warren looks at the drink in his hand and lifts it to his lips, taking a large gulp of the alcoholic drink before he lifts a hand and beckons Jay inside. "Come in." He takes another sip from the martini and looks back to Jay, "Do you want something? Water? Food? Beer?"

Not entirely certain whether to hide those broad extra apendages or to draw them out a little more, Jay settles at letting them rest naturally against his back, primaries nearly sweeping the floor behind him with each clicking flip-flopped step. The young man's gaze drops briefly, modest, as he's granted entry into the penthouse.

A penthouse which is, quite honestly, nicer than any other place he's seen with his own eyes. He tries to keep the staring discrete, but Jay is pretty clearly impressed and carries with him an aura of awe when he is able to steal glances away from the man who paces so casually in the space. Offered something to drink, Jay slides a hand out of his pocket and gestures mildly, "Ah'll take a beer, if you don't mind?" Casual strides leading him slowly in Warren's direction.

Nodding, Warren sets the martini glass down onto one of the counter tops before he heads into the kitchen area. Warren removes a dark bottle from the fridge, using a opener to flip the cap off the bottle top and wanders over to offer the bottle to Jay, "Hope you don't mind European. I can't stand the domestic crap."

Warren moves over to where he left the martini glass and retrieves it, taking a sip. "So….awkward. Sorry about that down there. I'm, uh…sometimes I'm still not all here." he says as he taps his head. "Just kind of threw me for a loop, seeing you and your wings. Other than being red, they as so similar to mine I…well…my brain skipped a beat."

Jay follows with softly clicking footsteps in Warren's wake, taking the unfamiliar beer in hand, glancing at the label. An abashed smile flits over the young man's face as he admits, pivoting around to follow Warren. "Thank you. Ah've actually never had anythin' else before." Because poor people. Admitting his ignorance done with a charmingly self-depreciating humor.

Following back toward the wetbar and the glass, Jay shakes his head mildly, scooping a hand through his hair while he adds as a rejoinder to the apology. "Really, sir. You don't need to apologize to me." Another soft fwip and shiver of his wings when Warren mentions them. Jay offers a mild, crooked smile. "Ah know they do. Ah heard it all the time at the school."

"Warren. Please…I'm not that much older than you and calling me sir makes me feel like I am an old man." Warren shakes his head with a smirk, polishing off the martini and moving to fix himself another. "Take a seat, the left side of the couch has modifications in the back that should let you sit there comfortably with your wings. I had it custom made a while ago, but it should work for you." He pours the mixed drink from the shaker into his glass and sips at it. "Oh? Get a lot of comparisons to me did you?" He smirks, "I guess it is only natural. Comparisons I mean. There are not that many of us that end up looking like we do…or did anyway. At least you don't have to worry about it anymore." He glances down at his blue form and shrugs a shoulder, "Even when I solve my 'blue' issue, I don't think it will end up being a problem."

"Sorry," Jay smiles mildly with a good-natured shrug of one shoulder. "Force of habit." The good-ol' boy politeness relaxes a little bit as he's invited a monocom of familiarity with the other man, strolling around to the couch as lead, Jay stands in front of the modified seat and /stares/ at it for more than a couple passing moments. Something so /simple/ as a seat, Jay seems to regard it with amazed relief. The brilliant problems that money and necessity can solve. To the man who cuts the backs of his shirts out with scissors, this is brilliant.

Before Warren coaxes him again, Jay takes a seat and experimentally stretches his wings a little bit, whispering friction of feather on feather. Approval and deep gratification, he takes a drink from his bottle and returns his attention back to Warren, commenting earnestly with a thumbing to the back of the couch, "This is damn brilliant."

Drawing back around toward the subject at hand, Jay inhales deeply, holding it for a drawing moment and exhales with a nod, "Yeah. Lots of comparisons at first glance. Lots of assumptions. From day one, really. Mah brother's alumni so the second he saw me the first words Ah heard out of his mouth were, 'like Warren'." Jay smiles helplessly with a shake of his head. "Our mutation's rare and recognizable so Ah suppose it's natural to assume they're all the same. Ah know other folks with wings, though most of 'em aren't always present. Makes things like this a little easier." Nodding again vaguely toward the couch. Finally, someone who understands or at least remembers the awkwardness of simple every day things when you have giant extra parts.

Warren chuckles, sipping at his martini. "If you like the couch, you would really like the Porche. I had Diz modify the seats in it to accommodate the old me. Yeah, the couch was also a custom job, obviously. I got a few weird looks when I ordered it to spec, but toss enough money at things and you tend to get what you want without many questions."

"Your brother? Who was your brother?" He asks curiously as he moves to take a seat on the opposite couch. He nods, "I'll say one thing about the 'new' wings I was given. They at least fold away nicely. I don't have to worry about hiding them like I used to. But the whole being blue thing is the tradeoff for that, I guess. I can't walk down the street in public, or everyone is going to know I am a mutant. The board is going to try and take the company as soon as they get wind of it. I can't keep phoning it in forever."

He glances over at Jay, sizing him up a bit. "You know, I have a whole wardrobe that is useless to me now. It might fit you."

A…wardrobe? Jay blinks, surprised speechless for a moment as he stares at Warren. Guileless green eyes sweep down Warren's frame, assessing quietly for a moment of temptation. "Ah…wouldn't know what to say, hah. Ah'm used to hand-me-downs, but nothin' quite so fine." Agast over the generosity over the very gesture.

Jay slides a hand over the back of the couch appreciatively, a mild and crooked smile turning up toward Warren once more as the man takes a seat as well. "Ah'm startin' to learn that about money. It's a new concept t'me, entirely but it seems to be mah roommate's default settin'." The ginger young man takes another drink and leans back comfortably/comfortably!/into the couch, perhaps underlining his previous remark with his next explanation. "Mah brother is Sam Guthrie. Cannonball." Jay scoops a hand through his hair again, letting the red settle back into place to frame his face. No secrets there that the million Guthrie children are poor as dirt.

Green eyes flit thoughtfully over Warren's shoulder. Lacking his wings now, but Jay's seen them. Hell, he's seen them up close and personal. "Ah didn't want to say it, but when Ah saw…yer new wings, Ah was real curious about them. It's terrible to say it, but in the interest of silver linin's, Ah am envious how compact they are. Not to sound presumptuous but have you tried invitin' a lady friend up to show you how to paint yer face?" The pale young man almost winces as he says it. "It ain't ideal and like Ah said, Ah don't know how Ah feel about hidin', but Ah do recognize that there are people who don't have my luxury of…well…unimportance."

Warren shrugs, "Shirts with holes in the back aren't exactly something I am in need of a lot of these days. If I do end up needing a hole, I can make them easily enough now. If you want them, they are yours."

"Oh, Sam! Ok. Yeah, I remember him, vaguely. One of the unfortunate…side effects…of whatever they did to me, my memory is a bit like swiss cheese. Holes in places. Now your roommate…you live with Kaleb, right? I believe I remember him mentioning you at one point. I knew him from boarding school. I guess he is the one that found me and saved me…or at least made it so I could save myself."

Warren glances over his shoulder and shrugs, "Compact enough. They fold in and then kind of…flatten into my back. It's an odd feeling. I'm more concerned with how I am regenerating feathers and producing a neurotoxin. The latter one really baffles me."

Warren chuckles, "First thing I thought of, actually. I had Diz working on a machine much like one of the new steam cabinets that would spray on the makeup, but I may have another option. Lorna's sister Wanda might be able to make me a charm that would allow me to appear normal."

"Maybe not, but judging from today, I'm not sure you don't need something," Jay mentions mildly, nodding toward Warren's currently stripped state. "Though, Ah see yer point. If yer just going to get rid of them…" Jay trails off a little bit in a rather abashed form of acceptance.

Recognition over his brother in one hand and his roommate draws a faint smile from Jay, nodding his quiet affirmation, glancing down to his beer bottle, thumb scraping lightly at the label. "Kaleb mentioned that. After you came back and we dragged ya out of the lake, Ah sat him down and had a long talk about what he knew about what happened." A tremor of motion shivers through his wings, betraying discomfort, like shivers running through him.

"Neurotoxin?" Confusion and concern, Jay's brows dip together as he looks back toward the blue skinned man across the way. "That's…well, Ah'm glad that Ah didn't get cut by 'em when Ah carried ya out. Though, Ah don't know if it would've affected me. Most things have some trouble on that note." Jay still pondering the question over when Warren mentions Lorna and Wanda. Another fwip of his wings and Jay's smile dims just around the edges. "That actually makes a lotta sense. Magic would be an easy solution if ya could get yer hands on it. Then again, from all Ah've seen from Wanda's boy, magic can pretty much be an easy answer t'anythin' if ya can get it to act right."

Warren nods once sharply. "Yeah. Whatever they did to me seemed to alter my biology in some way. I mean, other than turning me blue. The new wings, they shoot out feathers like flechettes…and they are coated with a neurotoxin that, as far as I can tell anyway, causes temporary paralysis."

He shrugs a shoulder, lifting the martini to his lips and downing the contents, popping the olive into his mouth when finished. "The pendant was Lorna's idea. I haven't heard from her though, so I don't know if I should count on it or not. I know her sister was busy with something else, and my request isn't a priority to her for sure."

Jay listens attentively, his bottle resting on one knee while Warren goes through the run down of what was done to him.There's a quiet ache visible just so around the edges of the other man's expression, more clearly expressed in the way his wings compress close against his back, feathers shivering briefly. Jay nods. "Ah didn't want to ask, but Ah admit, Ah was curious what they all changed. Ah imagine it's hard t'get vollunteers t'help you figure out what's on yer feathers. The regrowth is…it's crazy to think, because they're metal. How metal can regrow…" The young man shakes his head and blows out a breath, taking another drink while he mulls it over. He hesitates to ask, but does so anyway after a moment, almost afraid of the answer, "Do you still have your healing?" What you learn about another mutant when people say you're just like them.

"Yeah…she…had a rough time recently." Jay mentions offhandedly and as kindly as he possibly can. "Ah know the family, actually. If you don't mind, Ah can send out word an' talk to Miss Wanda about it? It's important for mutants to be able to keep their businesses, even if that means that sometimes we gotta hide to do it. One day…" One of Jay's cheeks hollow a little bit as he bites on the soft inside briefly. "One day it won't be like that. But yer situation's unique."

"Yes. I still have the healing factor. In fact, it might be a little better than it was. I haven't put it though a myriad of tests to find out. As far as how the wings regrow, or how they generate the toxin, your guess is as good as mine."

After Jay speaks of Lorna, Warren nods. "I know of Lorna's situation, Mr. Guthrie. I'm aware that she has moved back with Erik, and I know that there have been some…personal issues. I don't with to trouble them anymore than I already have, so if or when it happens, it will happen." He pops the second olive into his mouth and starts the chew on it slowly, "I'll be honest, there is a part of me that is half tempted to just stroll down to the board room as is, fling open the doors and show the members exactly who runs this company…but something tells me if I ended up doing that I would end up on the news, and not in a good way. The…weapons…they grafted onto me sometimes seem to have a mind of their own. It's probably a lack of control on my part, but the last thing I need is a boardroom full of dismembered corpses."

Somehow, the news of Warren retaining his healing factor seems to be harder news than not and for a moment Jay has to close his eyes with the world's smallest cringe as he tips his chin down toward his beer bottle as his smile takes on a forced angle to it. "Hell, hah…" Jay breathes the word out and a puff of bitter laughter as he shakes his head and rebolsters himself, turning back to face Warren. "Sorry. Ah just—" The younger man halts himself preemptively, sorting his words out behind a maudlin curve of a smile that he holds on to as a shield. "Ah have it, too. Thinking about goin' through that with yer healin' in tact. Ah'd almost hoped that they'd found a way t'nullify it." The young man is prone toward empathy, so he looks to Warren with a profound understanding of pain, but also an immence respect.

"Ah figured you knew about it. Ah'm just tryin' to be kind as Ah can speakin' on it," Jay explains mildly and shakes his head. "An, good lord; Jay. Please." He drops with an exhale of breath meant initially to be a chuckle. "Mr. Guthrie was my daddy, Ah ain't ready to fill those shoes." The young man jokes easily and falls back to listening.

Listening to those hopes and urges Warren has about walking into his own board room freely. A small smile written into his expression, appreciative. A sliver of impishness detected somewhere in the background. "White, blue, purple, whatever, yer still you, an' folks should be able to respect that and respect what you've done—what yer family's done and built. Ah'd pay good money to be a fly on the wall for that meetin'." His smile slowly growing into a flash of a grin before simmering back down to his neutral smile. Thoughtful, he can't very well glance to Warren's folded wings, but Jay's gaze floats over his shoulder anyway, imagining what he'd seen a little while ago. "They were movin' when you were unconscious, Ah noticed that, though they didn't cut me when Ah was carryin' you. Ah didn't know if it was them, or maybe it was like when someone moves in their sleep. If … you want, Ah'd be happy to help ya figure out if you can keep 'em under control in a stressful situation? Test yer control limits." Jay shrugs mildly.

Arching his brow, Warren looks at Jay for a long moment in silence, then he raises his shoulder in a shrug. "If it makes a difference, I don't remember much. I get bits and pieces. Flashes of pain or visions of blood, but nothing that I can pin down as a solid memory. Whatever trauma they did, I'm at least spared most waking memory of it."

Warren smirks, "Jay it is then. From what I remember, I don't think anyone is ready to fill those shoes. How many are in that clan of yours now? Seemed like every year there was another brother or sister Sam was talking about."

He looks up at Jay, "Dangerous proposition, that. I know for a fact they can cleave a man in twain. I know because I've…done it. My escape wasn't clean, but you knew that since you were there when I showed up." He shrugs, "Maybe one day I will just walk into the board room and do that, but not until I have something iron clad drawn up with my lawyers. Just to mitigate what I can as far as damage control."

Jay watches that eyebrow raise and withdraws slightly from his empathy on the matter with a self-conscious flick of red feathers and another drink from his bottle, looking at the label again when it's something he, once again, wasn't expecting to taste. European beer. Weird. He nods a couple times. "Yeah. It does make a difference. Trust me." Trying to make the remark easy, but it drops with the solidarity of an honest lead weight as Jay tries to lighten it after the fact with a vague sketch of a smile tossed sidelong to Warren.

"Fer a while it was like that. There are eleven of us, now," Jay nods a couple times, unable to hide the bit of pride he feels for his kin. "Ten blood, but adopted the boy of a fellah who died tryin' to protect us from a damn nutter. Daddy died a few years ago though, so we're done. So far every one of us turn up mutant, too." Jay exhales a short breath of laughter. "So Ah'm sure the school'll be neck deep in Guthries fer a bit if they keep up the trend."

Inspecting the label he's been picking at and peeling, Jay looks over once more to meet Warren's gaze. Untroubled. "Dangerous, but worth it. What's it called?" Jay squints, trying to pull up terms he doesn't use every day. "Equitable exchange? Spendin' too much time with Kale." The earthy young man sighs and sits back again in the surprisingly comfortable couch. "Ah've never lost a limb b'fore…Ah don't know if that would grow back." Jay squints thoughtfully and looks at one of his lily-white hands, spanning his fingers out while he ponders it. "But nothin' else has stuck so far."

"The day you walk in the joint like you own it, because you /do/ own it, just as you are? That's goin' to be a damn good day. It'll happen." Jay nods to Warren, the ever optimist. The font of hope to some degrees. "When it does, you know you'll have a target on ya, but with a good team behind yabusiness and personalanythin' is possible. Just gotta start cultivatin' it now."

"Yeah well, it doesn't help me sleep at night most nights. Fact is I had to have a friend come over and sleep with me…not like that….just so I could get a decent nights sleep. I'm not sure what she did to keep me from having the nightmares, but whatever she did it worked for a little bit. I may have to ask her t come back over for another sleepover sometime." Warren says with a shrug as his fingers dance lightly around the rim of his glass

"That….is a lot of kids. Hell, I am not even sure I could handle one…but eleven?" He shakes his head, "Sorry to hear about your father. Loosing a parent isn't easy. Maybe I should throw your family a thanksgiving dinner. Bring them all up to the city and treat them to a nice meal. Your poor mom has got to be worked to death."

Warren shrugs, "Well, it wouldn't be a good thing to find out that you can't regenerate limbs after the fact. I'd feel like crap if I disarmed you, literally, and then you stayed that way. I don't know that would be such a good idea. I should stick to Logan or someone who I know I can't do permanent damage to. We will see."

Warren nods, "Yeah. I just have to make sure I can protect Worthington Industries from those that would see me ousted. Hell, i'm surprised they didn't do it while I was away. I owe some people something for stalling that process at all." He sighs, standing to move back over to the wet bar, "Anyway, if you want to try on some of those clothes, bedroom is that way. Closet on the left has all the 'old' Angel gear as well as my casual clothes, including a couple spare harnesses if you want them. You can pick out what you like, and I can have it shipped, or I can just ship the whole damned wardrobe and you can go through it at your hearts content."

Jay lifts a hand gently and shakes his head when Warren insists that when he says sleeping, he doesn't mean like that. The young man dips his head with a wry smile. "No, no…Ah get it, Warren. Believe me, Ah get it. Ah've…done the same. More than once. When you've been through some stuff, the nights can be the worst." Understanding, he waves away the further explanation and tosses back the rest of his drink, fingering the bottle idly.

"Momma's a tough lady, but everyone's got a limit," Jay murmurs in agreement. "Ah still go back to help when she lets me, but not much. They don't really care fer me much back home. S'why she sent me off here. But…Ah'm lucky. Now that Ah live with Kale, Ah can send her most of my paycheck and that helps. Ah work at a grocer in Mutant Town. Glamorous, Ah know." A warm green eye winks jovially to Warren. "It's an incredible thought, though we wouldn't want to put you out any, Warren." Trying to be polite, the age old dance of yes but no but yes.

Jay smiles wryly his understanding, not wanting to cause Jay any real damage, giving him a shrug and a nod, "Well, Ah appreciate the forethought, not wantin' to maim me. A musician without his hands ain't much of one." Tell that to Rick Allen in about ten years! "Then maybe a flight sometime. Try out those new ones you got, maybe put us both through some paces an' no loss of limb necessary." Jay gathers to his feet, looking around to dispose of his bottle so Warren doesn't have to pick up after him. He glances toward the bedroom.

"Ah'm surprised they didn't, either. The scariest part about what happened with you an' Kale is that it happened because of high society folk. Yer peers." He shakes his head slowly. "Aside from all the similaries you an' Ah got, an' how afraid Kale is that Ah'm gonna end up the same, it's jus' because you guys are of a certain profile an' visibility, sounds like. We need people in yer positions, though, an' they know that. Whoever stalled it is definitely someone you want on yer side an' make sure stays on yer side."

Jay turns back to Warren again. "Can Ah maybe come back? Ah don't really have my own room so Ah gotta be careful how much Ah amass." He check his wristwatch and angles a small smile toward Warren. "Ah'm supposed to meet a friend down at this jazz club in about twenty."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License