TITLE:
Circle of Death
AUTHOR: Beaubier
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: xbeaubier@hotmail.com
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Are you serious?
CATEGORY: Humor, general screwing off
RATINGS/WARNINGS: R for language, heavy on the alcohol, mild adult innuendo.
SUMMARY: Bobby's feeling grouchy, Kurt is trying to lighten him up. Some of the
X-team stop by and end up playing a classic drinking game. Iceman,
Nightcrawler, Archangel, Husk, Northstar, and Havok all
need a break from the Chuck Austen induced drama.
DISCLAIMER: Characters are clearly not mine. Don't complain if you don't like
my Circle of Death rules. Everyone plays it differently, this is just the way I
do it.
NOTES: Yes, I was bored. I don't normally like to play cards, but I do like the
occasional drinking game. The idea of the Uncanny crew on their day off sitting
around playing an old college favorite made me laugh, so I scribbled it down.
Mild ooc stuff here, as I really can't imagine that some of them would be
talked into such a thing, but hell, it's fun anyhow. I suppose it takes place
rather recently, before The Draco storyline in Uncanny, since I'm using the
characters who were around for that, mostly.
Circle of Death Rules
2 - Give 2
3 - Give 3
4 – Give 4
5 – Give 5
6 – Give 6
7 - Give 7
8 - Never have I ever…
9 - Make a rule
10- Smack your head
J – Rhyme
Q - Question
K – Lose an article of clothing
A – Waterfall
Part One: Mopey X-Men
Kurt was getting tired of seeing Bobby like this. The younger man sat, listless, in the living room, TV blaring, looking straight through it, while the team leader leaned in the hallway, shaking his head. He looked so sickly, in the glow of that horrible mind-stealing contraption. He'd tried to lure him into small talk, conversation about the Mansion, the missions, what was going on. To no avail.
The boy (he hated to think of him like that, Bobby was a grown man, after all) was usually so animated. Or he had been, once upon a time. That was what killed the fuzzy elf about the whole thing. He just needed to relax, most likely. To forget his worries, and be himself for a bit. Be the old, honest, Iceman.
And where to go for bottled honesty…?
In Vino Veritas, Kurt smiled to himself.
The smell of sulfur drifted to him, and he shook his head. Why couldn't people just leave him in peace to watch some… whatever the hell it was he was "watching" at the moment? Did he ask to be bothered? No. All he wanted was to sit here and watch some goddamn TV. Difficult with a fuzzy blue demon bamfing around all the time.
So what if he was pouting? Being immature? Did he have to be in a good mood all the damn time? He had things on his mind…
BAMF! "Guten Abend, Herr Drake!"
"Think of the Devil, and he appears," Bobby muttered, in no mood for whatever game it was Nightcrawler wanted to play with him. He pointedly refused to look at him and sniffed disdainfully at the acidic residue of whatever godforsaken dimension the man teleported through.
"Ach, not the Devil. Just your friendly neighborhood wall-crawler."
Without meaning to, Bobby looked over at him, "Thought that was Spider-Man."
Nightcrawler shrugged, holding out a beer in one of his three-fingered hands, "Just making sure you were listening."
For a moment, the Iceman looked from the glowing yellow eyes of his teammate down to the bottle of beer, pre-opened. Heineken. He liked Heineken. So… what the hell. He was miserable enough, wasn't he? He swiped it with a grunted, "Thanks," and immediately took a big gulp of the crisp, bitter stuff.
Kurt smiled at him, "There, don't you feel better already?"
Bobby just looked at the man before him a moment, the face of a swashbuckler covered in blue fuzz, smiling with those frightening fangs. He looked a bit like the wolf waiting for little red riding hood. And he almost smiled back, at the thought. "I guess."
"Don't worry," his friend assured him, "I don't plan on dragging you into some deep, spiritual conversation. You just looked like you could use a drink."
"Apparently, you're right," he agreed, turning back to the blaring television.
"What's on?"
He looked at it a moment longer, strained to remember what this horrible movie was… and simply hit the off button on the remote, "You know, I haven't the slightest idea Kurt."
The demon laughed, and Bobby found himself starting to laugh with him.
Paige Guthrie was grinning from ear to ear when she walked into the house, Warren at her side. It had just been a little walk. A little light conversation. Nothing earth-shattering or dramatic.
But good god, she felt like a twelve-year-old when she was this close to him.
It took all her self control to keep the grin under wraps, so that it simply looked like a calm smile. To keep the bounce out of her step, or the flutter out of her voice. So long. So long and he finally seemed to understand…
"Let's see what's on TV tonight," He offered, in that commanding, low voice he had.
She tried not to giggle. Don't be foolish, Paige. You're a grown woman, you've pursued, and been pursued by many men. Just calm yourself. "Alright," was all she said.
When they reached the TV room, however, the thing was off and Bobby and Kurt sat on the couch, Kurt talking animatedly about some adventure or other, Bobby actually half-smiling for the first time in what felt like months to Paige.
"How goes?" Warren intoned, by way of greeting.
They both looked over at the intruders, and Kurt's face lit up, yellow eyes flashing. "Oh! Warren, Paige! Get yourselves a beer and come sit with us, we are just telling old war stories."
"Male bonding at the X-Mansion huh?" Archangel seemed highly amused by the idea, running a hand self-consciously through his thick mop of golden hair.
"That's why we need you, so Paige will hang out with us," Bobby nodded, a hint of the old prankster returning to him momentarily.
It sounded like a good idea to her. And anyhow, she'd been wanting to see how Warren would act after a few beers loosened him up. "I'm in," she threw in, moving to occupy the loveseat.
Warren shrugged, "I'll bring you a beer," and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.
Jean-Paul was NOT pleased with the exams.
He flipped off the light over his desk in irritation, and decided to take a break from grading these dismal blue-books. Nothing to make you feel like a failure more than your students being unable to grasp fundamental concepts. Supply and Demand. Dieu, what was so difficult about Supply and Demand?
He closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it, and headed downstairs, fully intending to go outside for a breath of fresh air. He'd been feeling restless lately. And it was no wonder. So many things, fighting for his attention. Classes. Being an X-Man. This full-time superhero gig, he wasn't quite used to it again. And then there was all the frustration…
"Yo, JP!"
Surprised out of his reverie at the bottom of the stairs, he looked to his left to see Bobby's head sticking out of the doorway to the living room. And not so far under, his disembodied hand holding a green bottle.
His stomach tightened marginally, but he forced that away from his mind.
"Hey, we're bonding in here. Like to join?"
Northstar was mildly taken back. Bobby had been quiet lately, hardly a party-boy. And grouchy. Not that he minded, of course, he was rather a grouch himself if he admitted to it… "No, thank you. I'm not in the best of moods tonight."
"Neither am I," Bobby now came into the archway and leaned on the frame, holding one hand, with a full bottle, out to him, and taking a swig from the other one, "that's why we're bonding. Come on, man, don't act like you're too cool for us."
Rolling his eyes, but somehow pleased inside, he moved to the doorway and accepted the bottle, seeing Warren and Kurt sitting on two of the couches, watching Paige act out some sort of conversation with a charming measure of animation.
Bobby nodded at him and returned to his seat next to Kurt.
Jean-Paul followed, sitting next to him, and wondered how long it would take before he would regret this.
Warren was amused, watching Paige impersonate the Professor rather successfully. Something about her made him forget. Forget all the… well, baggage. He had to admit, he had quite a bit of it. He was young, sure, but already his life was full of tragedy, heartbreak, and yes, it was true, also astounding success. He supposed it came with the whole superhero thing though. And the Billion dollar heir thing as well.
Not that he would complain.
Well, not today anyhow.
"Wait! I have an idea," Paige suddenly stopped her act, and stood thoughtfully, one hand on her hip. She was lovely when she didn't pay attention, when she thought no one was looking. Sweet faced, intelligent, thoughtful. "Let's play a drinking game."
Jean-Paul was the first to protest, naturally. The man had a stick so far up his Canadian ass, Warren wondered how he managed to walk properly. And people had thought he was stuffy? "I don't know, aren't we a bit… old for that kind of nonsense?"
"Yeah," she agreed with him, but maybe that's why we should do it. Look at you mopey bastards. Lemme guess, Northstar. You've been grading exams all night?"
One dark eyebrow arched on his pale forehead, and he nodded his admission.
"And Bobby, you're sitting here being a grouch right?"
Kurt nodded for him, and Bobby shot him a look. Warren was surprised it didn't frost the man's fur.
"Kurt, you're always game for a beer, I mean, you're German."
"Ja, good point liebchen."
"Warren, you said yourself you didn't have any plans for the night."
He was at a loss. Not that he was entirely against her idea, but it was rather… irresponsible. Still… it couldn't hurt. "Well, I suppose we don't have a mission coming up tomorrow. We have the day off."
Bobby looked at him, amazed, "You're kidding? You're gonna do this?"
He shrugged, "Like she said, why not?"
His old friend looked from him to Paige a few times, then shook his head, "Ok, ok."
"I'd think it'd be more like you to suggest such a thing, in fact, frosty," he couldn't resist throwing at him.
Bobby only shrugged, "I suppose that's true."
Paige looked at Jean-Paul now, expectantly. Sharp blue eyes looked around, clearly searching for an exit. And finally he looked back to her. "I suppose it won't kill me."
"Great!" She clapped her hands together once, like a schoolteacher about to begin class. "Now, let me go get my cards, and… who else should we ask?"
"Not Cain…," Bobby suggested.
Everyone groaned in consent.
"Alex," Husk suggested, flipping her shining hair a bit, and heading out of the room. "He's mopey too. I'll bring him back with me."
He watched her go, appreciatively, then caught Bobby staring at him, one eyebrow raised accusingly.
"What?!"
Alex Summers was not in a good mood either. In fact, he was downright brain-fried. The emotional stress of this whole mess with Lorna… a mess he still didn't quite understand. And Annie… and Carter. Not to mention the stress of being a superhero in general. He'd been doing it for a long time, sure, but it had sure as hell had its ups and downs. And right now… well at least he wasn't in a coma anymore…
He tried to pay attention while Paige explained the rules of her game to the reluctant audience. He looked around at the faces of his teammates, Amused to see that only Nightcrawler, their fearless leader, looked like he was actually looking forward to this. Warren seemed oddly indifferent, just looking at Paige with a kind of stupid grin on his face, obviously about to be lovestruck once again, if he wasn't already. Northstar and Iceman just looked… irritated. This was nothing new for Northstar, of course. Or for Iceman, anymore. There was a time, when all of this would've been his idea instead of Paige's.
For his own part, he was secretly looking forward to it. No Lorna. No Annie. Just hanging out with his friends. No bad guys to defeat, no mission to accomplish. Just… some beer.
He figured he had earned it.
"Ok, I'll go first," Husk told them, after her patient explanation of each card and what it meant they had to do. The only important one, he told himself, was ten. If he saw a ten, he had to slap the table, then his own forehead, fast. Last one to do it had to drink. Anything else, he could handle being reminded of without losing utterly.
Not that it was possible to win this game. It appeared to be a bit of a deathtrap.
Havok had seen enough of those in his lifetime to recognize them.
She put her hand over the pile of cards in the center of the table, and chose one at random. "A three," she announced, showing it to them. "Which means, I get to give out three drinks to whomever I choose…" She began to look around the table almost menacingly, and finally, settled on Iceman. "Bobby, take three drinks."
He wrinkled up his nose at her, remind Alex very much of the Bobby of a few years ago. The merry prankster. "Why me?"
"Because you had the sourest face on. Now drink."
Alex found himself laughing. Well, it would be interesting, if nothing else.