1964-11-02 - Heinlein-Schmeinlein
Summary: Discussing books, war, and postcards from the edge
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
sunspot douglas cannonball wither 

Doug is sitting in the cafeteria, reading a book in Hindi and eating his lunch, which is chili with cornbread. Munch, munch, munch… mmm, chili. He turns a page. Nonstop, endless excitement, that's the glamorous life of a Mutant for you. He really gets wild with it, and puts some butter AND honey on his cornbread before he takes a bite of it.

Cannonball can't crash into anything if he's not moving very fast…in this case, walking speed. Totally carrying a beer, the top open, probably against a rule or two, but whatever…Xavier and Scott can show up and stop him. "Hey nerd." He greets as he enters the cafeteria and puts one hand on his hip as he looks over what's on the buffet.

Wither usually avoided meal time but that doesn't always work out. Kevin was cleaned up mostly but for residual grime that didn't come off at first pass washing his hands from the garage. He had a small plastic tupperware bowl and a tall plastic up with water in it, and wrapped in seran wrap and tin foil a book. Well that was one way to keep it clean and fairly Kev proof. There was a nod to Sam, but he asked Doug, "Anyone sittin here?"

Doug looks up, and then pushes out the chair across from him with a foot. "Nope." Then he looks up at Sam, and says, "Nerd? I don't see any nerds here, Guthrie! Chili's not bad today. Coffee's awful like always, though." He pauses, for just a moment, and then slips a bookmark into his book and sets it down.

Cannonball ends up trusting Dougy and picking out the chili before coming back over towards Doug and Kev. He doesn't ask if he can join, though. He lives in 'cool guy world', which means he's just lived his whole life expecting that people want him to sit with them. "What's going on, Kev, Doug? And the guy with the book is always the nerd." He grins crookedly.

Wither would forever be in awe of that level of bravado that Sam and Bobby seem to continuously pull off. Wooooah. He offered to Doug as, perhaps, Sam's anthetesis in this, "Ah' brought a book too. It's… okay." Not the point, Kev-o. Ah well. He paused and shrugged, "Got a screen built. Got the projector. We're gettin a movie soon. Operation Drive In Theatre non teh Lawn is almsot done?"

"Speaking of, Sam," Doug says, around a mouthful of chili, "Have you been making any headway on that Heinlein I gave you? He seemed like your kind of writer. But if that's not to your taste, I've got some other books I could lend you. You ever heard of Conan?" Then he looks back to Wither, and reaches out to clap the student on his (covered) shoulder. "Hey, that's AWESOME! I knew you could do it!"

"Errrrrrrrrrr…" Sam looks awkwardly at Doug, "I was actually a little afraid that it might be…deep and…mind-provoking. I'm more used to the Hardy Boys and stufff like that. Little mystery, little twist. But, if its a good story, I'll pick it up." he grudgingly confesses and promises.

"Also…are yo making a theater? On the lawn? A real one?"

Wither looked up to Doug and blinked, "Heinlein? Like the guy that wrote the Star Beast? Jes' finished that one." Tales of space exploration? Apparently this was as throlling as watching Paladin. At the pat on the back he smiled, proud of himself but the bridge of his nose and ears were bright red. It didn't stop the little bit of smug. Yes, yes he did do it. The tupperware bowl was cracked open and many many teaspoons of whatever that was was now going into the bit of water like, what a powdered oatmeal? To San the Georgia boy grinned, "That's right, Guthrie. Real theatre, where people can bring their own blankets na whatever and park their butts on the lawn like we used to back home when we broke inta' the drive-in. Ah' miss it and relaly a lot of the younger kids might miss out on that soooo Ah'm fixin' it.

Doug rests his chin in his hand, and gestures with his spoon. "I'll tell you what. Let's START with Robert E. Howard and work our way up to Heinlein…" He gestures with his spoon. And then he flicks his eyes back to Kevin. "Yeah, I gave Sam my copy of 'Stranger in a Strange Land', he published that last year. Maybe I should've tried Have Spacesuit, Will Travel…" He stirs his chili. "Don't let Sam fool you, Kevin, he's incredibly smart. He and Sunspot are the only two people I've ever met who can beat me in a chess game. I still don't know HOW Bobby does it… it's like he knows what I'm going to do ten moves before I do it."

"I am not that smart." Sam denies and is humble about that much, at least. "Not like…the smart ones." He's right. "Doug's just bein' nice." He flicks a grin at Doug and Wither, then bites some of his chili. "I just like a book that…i barely have to read…and that has some sort of mystery in it."

Wither arched an eyebrow and said witha grin, "What, like the Sunday comics?" Now he was cruisin for a bruisin. There was a grin through as he mixed thatever that was together withteh water and capped the tupperware bowl again. "Really though maybe ya have a problem beatin Bobby cause while y'all are playin chess he's playin you. M'daddy used to say y'all gotta play your opponent not the board. Not that I was much good at it, but it's what he says."

"Oh. I have just the one for you then. I think you'll dig it." Doug says, "It's not long at all, it's got funny spots, and it does make you think a little…" His tone goes wry, "But not too much." He thinks about that, and then says, "…Huh." Then he looks up at Sam, and says, simply enough, "You sell yourself short. But then, you always did." He looks back to Wither, and says, "That's good advice, Kevin. Thanks."

Cannonball takes a bite of his chili, "Yer just biased because I'm yer friend is all. But, if ya say so…it aint polite ta argue. But…going on past what book I need ta read…" Sam tries to change the subject. "Anyone get the feelin' that there's some trouble brewin'?

Wither drank his lunch and siad drily, "Sam, y'all been sleepin through class? We're mutains. Always been trouble, always be toruble. But… I mean yeah I been listenin to the news. It really doesn't sound so good." Uneasy he looked to the two older fellas at the table and just asked, "Y'all don't think they're try to draft us do ya? Ah' dunno about either of y'all but I don't wanna wind up in some government thing bein used as a weapon."

"What day is it?" Doug says, before he takes another bite of his chili. "I haven't picked up on anything, myself. But I've been down in New York a lot. There's the problem that a second Illyana's showed up, I've heard—I haven't actually spoken to her. That could mean SOMETHING I guess. But I guess I always assume a baseline of trouble and see where things go from there." Then he says, "I never discount the chance of anything, but Xavier's lawyers are the best in the world. They'll pull every possible rabbit out of their hat to keep students and affiliates from going to war." He takes a slug of his coffee. Now, someone trying to poach Mutants on the sly…"

Wither looked to Doug with his brow furrowed and drank his slurry. He was envious as hell that Doug had cornbread. His missed it, but was also raised withthe manners not to bring it up. Hey, at least Doug had good taste. That went pretty far as far as he was concerned. The issue on the table though was more serious than starches, "Another Illyana? She from the future like Hope an' Blink? THey said things about, ya know." The future being bleak and scary as hell? Yeah. Everyone was on the lawn for that discussion. "Illyana alright?"

"If you hang around Illyana long enough," Doug says, "And I have," He finishes his chili, and then pops the last bit of cornbread in his mouth, "You know that it isn't really a question of 'is she all right'. It's more like…" He taps his chin, "Like… how under control things are, I suppose. The fact that things haven't exploded into a cyclone of demons — yet — is a good sign."

and it was at that moment…that good ole bobby would show up!

wearing a longsleeve black shirt and looking..actually fairly downtrodden today, he would eventually find Wither and Douglas and Sam, thus did he walk on over…though for Wither, he sets down a postcard from Rio. "As promised." he smiles lightly as he takes a seat, planting his forehead right into the table. Tired maybe?

Wither took out his gloves to put on as to not ruin the postcard. "Woah you remembered! THanks, Bobby. That's pretty swell of ya. Ah' really appreciate this. Though honestly y'all look like somethin ate your dog. You alright?" Wince the hand was gloved head-desk Berto got a pat on teh back. Kev looked back to Doug and blinked, "Man she's got it pretty rough. Anythin we can do to help her out?"

Doug sits back, and says, "I've seen that before. That's either 'Bobby struck out with a girl' or 'Bobby scored and didn't get any sleep last ngiht." He strokes his chin, and leans back in his chair. "So which is it?" Then he looks to Wither and his eyebrows go up. "Not unless she asks you for it. It takes a lot of gall to poke the Demon Queen of Limbo. Best leave it to me."

Roberto would simply give a thumbs up on the desk to Wither when he thanks him and asks if he's okay."mmhm." is all he says with a bit of a grumble, before lifting his head to answer Doug "Sleepy, struck out with a girl, but went on a few dates, dealt with an annoying person in my company."he siiiiiigggghhhhhssss. "It's been a long week. and I have jet lag."

"That's about par for the course." Doug says, before he slugs Bobby in the shoulder and gets up. "Anyway, I have a class in ten. Beginner's French. You two take it easy, okay?"

Wither arched an eyebrow and squint at Sunspot, "I didn't know y'all strikin out with a girl was like…even a thing. You sure they were breathin?" Somewhere the math between rumor and reality didn't align. "If it didn't sort maybe there's a reason. Never know. Hell, that's what I keep tellin myself." For his own reasons this amused him. "Ah' think you'll live to see another day. Still, disappointment sucks, Ah' know, man." Tilting his head back to Doug, "Au revoir, mon ami." Seeee someone paid attention in classes even if he was terrible at it. "Bobby, after lunch, basketball? Take your mind off things?"

Bobby gives Doug a small nod as he announces his departure, "Sure thing." even though that punch playfully does nothing to him, he gives a small smile to Cipher before looking to Wither at his question. "Heh, thanks for the pep talk. and sure, I could use the distraction." he smiles lightly. Lord knows alot was goin on in his world.

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