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Baby, You're a Firework; Kurt and Sam Talk Politics
Topic Started: July 20, 2015, 12:59 pm (209 Views)
Jesse
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Character: Nightcrawler
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



It would have been nice to go shopping with the others. He’d like the opportunity to get to know Yoyo and the others better. While ‘things’ were nice to have, he didn’t attach a huge amount of importance to belongings, so that wasn’t really a driving factor in his quiet musings. Rather, he just envied the experience. Barring some manner of incredible disguise, Kurt’s mere presence would create a stir, if not a riot. Not only could he not do that to his fellow Utopians, he really didn’t want to worry people who were just trying to shop for sundries. While it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t walk down the street without extreme reactions from the people around him, that was the world he lived in. His appearance was a burden and one it was better for him to carry on his own rather than foist off onto the world around him.

All those thoughts were rolling around in Kurt’s head as he leaned forward onto a balcony railing, watching the boat filled with his friends pull out into the water. The weather couldn’t have been nicer for a boat ride, with mild temperatures, gentle surf, and … His thoughts trailed off abruptly as he looked back to the water. Gentle surf. Private island. He could learn to surf! Why not? It’s not something he ever could have done as part of the circus, but here… here the possibilities were endless. Sure, he couldn’t go to the mainland and shop, but he could surf. Kurt pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and began to tap out a message to Joshua using the tip of his tail.

Kurt’s Text to Joshua
 
My apologies for the late addition, but if it’s not too expensive, could you purchase a surfboard for me? If it’s too much to ask, no worries. I’m sure I can manufacture one on the island. Thank you.

Kurt hadn’t really mastered the art of text brevity.

After sending the message, he tucked his phone back away and resumed watching the boat sail away. His fellow council member, Sam Guthrie, wasn’t heading out to sea today, so Kurt had sent him a message, asking if he’d like to chat about what being a council member really meant for them. He’d never really wanted to be a council member and didn’t understand why he’d been elected, but he was, and he wasn’t going to screw this up. Sam was more together than Kurt, so maybe he’d have a better vision of how to move forward.



Tags: Cannonball
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Matthew
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Character: Cannonball
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



There was some sort of big fancy shopping trip happening. Sam would have needed to be deaf and dumb to not realize that. And he wasn't at all deaf, not even after all the time he spent in the mines. Half blind sure, deaf? No thank you, ma'am. As for dumb? Well he was the least educated out of the Guthrie youngin's. He hadn't set foot on a college campus before, and he hadn't gotten the aid of a military education either. So he reckoned the dumb part might be particularly apt in his case. Not that he minded much. He had learnt all he needed to know out on his own. He worked for his education, in sweat and blood. So that others like Liz wouldn't have to. And he was proud of that.

So yes he was well aware that there was a shopping trip on someone else's dime. He just wasn't joining in. Shopping had never been even in the top twenty of past times for him to indulge in. In fact it sat right above trapped in a mine and losing his other eye on his list of fun activities. So he had stayed behind.

That wasn't to say that Sam wasn't having someone else shop for him. He had sent money. Yes money, he wouldn't be shopping on anyone elses hard earned cash. He would spend what he could of his own, and none of someone elses. He had sent the money and a basic list of things he needed along with his younger brother, the pink winged angel, Joshua. Josh was way better at the shopping thing than he was. He LIKED it. So did Liz of course. But she had.... beauty queen sensibilities... and Sam didn't want any clothes covered in sequin and lace. Thank you but no thanks.

Instead of going, Sam had stayed behind. He had a few things to do around the island anyway. He wanted to see what he could offer up for help with security for one thing. He had heard they had two people on security. The strange boy who hardly spoke and had attacked his sister Joelle, and then been attacked in return by Sam, and the woman he had not even spoken a word to but had heard referred to as Tessa, Laurence, and evil telepath. Clearly security had a lot left to be done to it if that was the extent of things on the island for now.

It was a task for later though. For now he had plans to meet up with one of the other newly elected council members. Council members. That still seemed strange to him. He was perfectly new to the island and already he had been elected to some council position? This island seemed to get stranger and stranger by the day... who were these people that saved them? And why had they let them into their fold so easily? Sam knew the answers they had been given but it all seemed too perfect...

He sighed to himself as he made his way to the spot that the blue mutant he had been imprisoned with, who had also been elected to the council, had suggested as their meeting spot. A balcony from which they could see most of the island. Not a bad spot, especially when planning to discuss this island and this council they were now a part of.

"Howdy pard'ner," Sam let out in the drawl that was typical of the Guthrie clan, himself and a few of the others especially. He could cut the accent back if he really tried, but he seldom saw reason to and the effort was hardly worth the slight uptick in city-style it afforded him.

"So, fellow council memb'r, y'all wanted to talk?" Sam asked, still uncomfortable with the whole council member term, but testing it out on his tongue all the same. He would after all need to get used to it, and quickly.



Tags: Nightcrawler
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Jesse
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Character: Nightcrawler
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



'Howdy pardner'. It was like dialogue from a film. Privately, he was delighted to find that Americans did talk this way, at least some of them. While cowboy movies weren't his favorites, they were generally morale passion plays about good and evil, which did appeal to the furry carnivalian. Kurt turned toward Sam with a brilliant, if jagged smile and bowed to the map, invisible hat plucked from his head with a flourish. "Guten Morgen, Herr Guthrie. It is a pleasure to have an opportunity to speak with you."

The council member was clad in the very latest in Utopian refugee fashion. A tee-shirt emblazoned with the Utopia logo, a pair of baggy shorts with the same logo on the left leg, and little else. He gestured to a nearby table, where he'd sat out some fruit, a couple pastries, and some fruit, "Yes, yes. Thank you for seeing me. I gathered refreshments in case you had not had breakfast. I am typically a late riser, myself."

With his distinctive, rolling gait, Kurt made his way to the table and grabbed up a small bunch of grapes, wanting both to eat, and have something to do with his hands while they spoke. This was all new and alien to him, which made him a touch anxious. "So... right to it then, yes?" He cleared his throat and began with, "I've never in my life had as much as a modicum of authority. I've never even had much responsibility. I don't know why I was elected to represent anyone, save for the idea that I might not abuse whatever power we actually hold, which is fair, but I also don't know what it is, or how to use it."

He plucked a grape and flicked it off his thumb into his mouth where it was crunched with a satisfying pop, then gestured to his partner in council. "You, as I understand, have been an officer of the law. You also are intimately familiar with a sizable portion of those whose concerns we are intended to advance. I was hoping to get some advice and perhaps develop a plan we can work together on for the betterment of this community."



Tags: Cannonball
Edited by Jesse, July 25, 2015, 9:25 pm.
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Marc
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Character: Icarus
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: text message


Josh’s Text back to Kurt
 
Howdy. Sure, I’ll take a gander. Might just be that I can find you such a mighty fine thing. Josh



Tags: Nightcrawler, indirectly
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Matthew
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Character: Cannonball
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



Sam knew just enough German to know that he didn't know any German at all. So when the blue skinned fellow refuge responded to his greeting with a greeting of his own, Sam had a few options. He could admit he had no idea exactly what the other man had said. He could take it as something offensive. Or he could assume it must have been something similar to a howdy, but in a more German way. Sam had spent MONTHS locked up with the guy, as well as his family and others. Sure they hadn't been able to see one another or interact exactly. He knew that out of his three choices the second was not likely. Kurt had always come across as gentle. As such asking what he meant would be fine, just make him look stupid. Sam knew he wasn't a genius, but he didn't want to play up the fact his education was the most lacking out of any of his kin. He already knew he came across as a country bumpkin, no need to add to that.

So Sam took the blue man's words for what they most likely were. Friendly greeting. Sam smiled at him and looked over at the offered food. He mosied over and grabbed himself an apple and shined it on his shirt until it was bright enough to all but reflect the sun's rays. Without missing a beat he took a big bite of the apple, chomping right into the ripe fruit.

"I went an' got raised on a farm, sleepin' in is the las' thing you do on a farm, too many chores, too many roosters crowin away..." Sam smiled at Kurt, sure that the other man had no idea of his exact past. Country bumpkin for sure.

"That dun mean I ever pass up food when it is offered to me, ya learn that one in the country too," He offered up the comment with a smaller smile. There were a lot of times money was tight and food was scarce on the farm. When you were offered a meal you took it. Unless it was a hand out. Guthrie's didn't accept handouts. They didn't have a lot to their names, but they always had their pride. This offering of morning fruit was no hand out though, it was mere friendship. That was what this new island place was supposed to be about wasn't it?

Sam nodded in agreement to getting right to the meat of things. He nodded again as Kurt asked if he had been in law enforcement. "County sheriff for a number of years, I've been trained, I've been seasoned, and I reckon I seen it all..." He would not explain just what he had seen, but there had been some rough sights back home, and he had been sheriff for many a tough situation. "Two fellow refugees are my kin, then there's Paige whose new here too, all you fellow prisoners I have a connection to as well... so I reckon I do have a bit of a bond to at least half this here places population, not that it makes me special, jus' means I know em all," Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I can tell ya this, an stop me if'n ya think I am wrong, but the first thing we need ta do is get some rules in order and some security in place, we are lackin' both of em, and that's a quick way to turn from a community into something else entirely,"



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Jesse
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Character: Nightcrawler
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks

________________________________________

Samuel Guthrie wasn’t a slow man, although Kurt could imagine why someone might leap to that conclusion. The accent, the gradual drawl, the reserved mannerisms… it’s be simple to write off Herr Guthrie as some moonshining good ol’ boy who hunts for bottom feeding fish with dynamite while using religion to justify racist views. As a species, humans love fitting each other into little boxes, classifying, putting away, and forgetting about those outside of our immediate circles. Kurt wasn’t human though. He’d never really been human. He was an outsider from birth, and that had given him a peculiar perspective on his study of humanity.

No, Sam wasn’t slow. He was deliberate. The different was uncanny. A slow person struggled with deciding what to do with the data at hand. A deliberate person gathered all the data they could before committing to a course of action. Sam Guthrie was deliberate. Kurt could see the gears turning as his fellow council member sized up him, the plateau, his words, and even the quality of the apple he’d been given.

The refugees had chosen wisely. At least, they’d made one good choice.

“Circuses are similar, although the hours are different. We tend to the animals, cook, clean, raise structures, engage in large engine mechanics with finicky machines that should have been replaced years before, and never pass up a chance to eat good food, for who knows when another opportunity will arise.” A mischievous twinkle sparkled in the imp’s yellow eyes, “And while I’ve never had cause to arrest a criminal, I suspect I may well have known a number that approaches yours, eh?”

The fruit laden table was surrounded by a number of white lacquered, wooden dining chairs, making a nice little breakfast area overlooking the water far below. Kurt twirled one of the chairs and straddled it, sitting with his chest leaning forward into the chair’s back as he munched on his grapes and listened to Sam’s CV, nodding in agreement as appropriate. And yes, at one point he did give his phone a quick glance and a smile before tucking it away.

“I feel we have an accord, in terms of neither of us being anything special. We’re just men trying to make the best we can in a world that could stand to make a bit more sense. Although perhaps I am just projecting.” He smiled and started peeling an orange, claws making swift work of the fleshy skin. He was careful and perhaps a touch compulsive about removing all the skin, then setting out the segments in a neatly arranged line.

“Rules… security…” He sighed, looking over his wedges. “I suppose you are right, my friend. While it would be a pleasant change of pace to find a group of individuals whom can simply choose to work together, the beach party showed that even in our infancy, that’s a whimsical dream.” He separated his segments into two halves, “According to my reading, the founders were hand selected for this experiment. Extensive psychological evaluations, selected for skills and powers, and let’s not forget the Omega presentation.” His hand hovered over those oranges, “And yet, they seem to be the most fractious.”

Another sigh, before Kurt’s yellow eyes met Sam’s. “I thought Teon was going to attack Tessa, and given how he acted during our rescue, I’m concerned that he’s a bit too willing to resort to violence, and brutal violence at that. I understand that’s part of who he is, but threatening fellow inhabitants with violence seems inappropriate at best.” He scratched his cheek before shrugging and munching on an orange. “So, rules. We need to establish rules, but with rules come penalties. Do we have enough social capital as a community for penalties like extra chores or the like to have weight? Reduced privileges? Punitive training exercises? In the circus, I was beaten for misbehaving, and I know that’s inappropriate. It only taught me to be more circumspect about my disobedience.”

________________________________________

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Matthew
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Character: Cannonball
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



He honestly had no idea just what to expect from the blue colored mutant from a far away land. It was nothing bigoted on Sam's part. He would have been a hypocrite to have issues with any mutant no matter their color or appearance. He himself, and literally half his siblings were of the mutant kind. No, Sam was no hypocrite or bigot. And while he did have that small town country vibe of not understanding anything that wasn't a part of his community, it didn't mean he disliked anyone who wasn't from where he dwelled though.

Under that ideology he would have hated everyone not a Utopian now. That would have gone against the whole idea of Utopia, wouldn't it? Or would it have just meant he still only liked the people from Kentucky? Which in and of itself would have meant disliking HALF of the Utopian residents.

Maybe that was what they needed rules and laws about? No discrimination? Sam thought about it a moment but the idea just didn't sit right with him. The world at large tried that. They built laws to prevent discrimination which just made people hate each other all the more while pretending not to, so as not to break a law. That just made hatred simmer until it boiled over. Then there would be a shooting, or some other unspeakable act. No, they wouldnt try that on Utopia. They would build a home of mutual trust and understanding, no need to force people to be nice. People were people, they were nice when you let them be nice.

Naive view, Sam knew it from having seen the world at large. Yet it was still a world view he hoped could work out. One that Utopia could achieve.

"Be it circus or farm, there ain't no place like home, I reckon," Sam offered up after Kurt had spoke. "For good or for ill," He added as an after thought as he absent mindedly ran a the back of his hand across his patch covered eye. There was a story behind that injury. Just like there was a story behind every injury they each had, be it physical or mental.

That led Sam to another thought. How did one make rules for a group of people with so many hidden scars and wounds? Simple. They did it one step at a time.

"Punishment fittin' the crime seems ta be the course of action, but I reckon we ain't gonna be dealing with any major crimes here, no murders an the like," Sam said gently with a nod. "We do have cells in this here place, throwbacks ta when there was a military presence here, I reckon things that are so bad we didn't expect em can land a person in a cell, elsewise I'd suggest our rules follow two basic paths, physical labor punishment, or deduction in a person's weekly pay," Making someone work or making someone earn less. Money and hard work. Those seemed to be the way to motivate without threatening, at least in Sam's mind. Back home on the farm it was that way. Extra chores, or less allowance.

"Course we gotta decide WHAT rules we have, so any ideas there my German friend?" Sam asked in as jovial a tone as he could pull off, what with having just been the man to suggest punishments and mention murder. Wasn't exactly an easy place to jump to frivolity from.



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Jesse
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Character: Nightcrawler
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks

________________________________________

Chores and garnished waged were the typical punishments in the circus. Sure, some performers would catch the occasional beating, especially the kids, but in general, the carnies tended to look after their own and didn’t cross each other. Punishments tended to be meted out when the circus itself was harmed. Stealing from the coffers, fleecing rubes in such a way that would bring untoward attention back on the circus, allowing a private disagreement to be made public before the customers… that sort of thing. More serious crimes were dealt with swiftly and surely. One rowdy had forced himself onto a girl. When the others had learned of his action, the rowdy was beaten within an inch of his life, dropped off with the local constabulary, and the circus moved on. Abandonment was typically the harshest punishment a person could face. The circus was your home, your family. To lose all of it was…

Well, it hurt.

Kurt snaked another bunch of grapes out of the basket of fruit with his tail, the nimble appendage curling about the fruit with nary an orb of juicy goodness escaping its grasp. He regarded the one eyed man thoughtfully while sitting up onto the balcony’s railing, sea lapping against the rocks so far below. His strange toes gripped the railing’s vertical bars are he transferred the grapes from tail to hands. After a long moment, he flashed a blindingly white smile, “My study of the Leviticus has shown me a great many laws we shouldn’t institute for our Utopia, if that’s any help.”

With a rolling shrug, he quickly conceded, “Terrible joke, I know. I don’t stand by it.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t know. I don’t know how to make laws. Making rules is easy, making good rules is harder, and making fair rules that people are expected to live by sounds crazy. But I know we need theme. As this place gets larger, we’re going to have situations where people are bad actors. Those bad actors cannot be allowed to destroy what we’ve built here. I… I’m just floored by the responsibility of trying to lay a foundation for all of this. I’ve only ever seen the outside of a school.” The last admission carried with it a faint hint of bitterness and desperation, which he quickly tried to hide with a, “Well, ok. I did sneak into one once to see what all the fuss was about. I wasn’t that impressed.”

________________________________________

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Matthew
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Character: Cannonball
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



Sam wasn't sure he would make a good lawmaker. He could tell that Kurt had the same reservations. It was a lot of responsibility to be left in charge of others. Sure Sam had been in charge of his kin for almost as long as he could remember. That was different though. Sure he placed rules on his kin. Sure he expected things of them. But he also knew they would break the rules, and he knew he would hand out fitting punishments. Like more chores, a stern lecture. They were family. It always worked out in the end. Except with Joelle... Sam wasn't going down that particular branch of his mental family tree at the moment. She was the reason he and Kurt were there at all, were representing the 'prisoners' the 'rescued'.

So it wasn't going to be like it was at home. No punishing youngins for doing wrong. No long winded lectures. It was instead going to be law and order. They had to make laws. They had to enforce the laws. They had to have punishments in place for when the laws were broken. And they would be broken. Laws were ALWAYS broken. Sam didn't need a history in law enforcement to know that. His sheriff past simply added a solid foundation to what he already knew. People like to bend the rules, to see what they could and couldn't get away with.

So how would they make rules AND enforce them? Sam listened to Kurt as he spoke and nodded his head. "Religion and laws dun always mix, especially in a diverse group like this here one we are creatin'," Sam added a loud, continuing down whatever thoughts it seemed Kurt had come up with. Wether Kurt had been serious or not, it was best to be clear that they shouldn't try some sort of ten commandments law enforcement or some such.

"We jus' gotta do what our hearts say we should do. The best leaders, the best rule makers, they ain't the ones who WANT to lead, who ASK to lead, they is the one's who get the task handed to em, and they do it, cuz they have to," That was Sam's philosophy anyway. He wasn't sure how true it was in practice. He did know that politicians always sought out their work. And look how many of them didn't work FOR the people once elected...

"I still say we clean them old jail cells up... if not fer our own people, then fer... well who knows what may happen on a mission... we should have a spot to take anyone we catch doin wrong, can't just hand a super powered mutant over ta the local authorities..." Sam was thinking about Joelle. Again. But again he would not voice that sore subject. The wounds were too raw. The images of her, shooting herself, killing a man, all too fresh in his mind. He did know she would need to be found and stopped though. The idea of locking up his kin... he hated it, but it was better than any alternatives...



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Jesse
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Character: Nightcrawler
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia Bunker Balcony, Overlooking Docks



"Ahh, contrary to certain American politicians, I'm not a fan of mixing religion and law. I've not run across a historical instance where that's been anything other than oppressive." Kurt clarified with a hand over his heart. It was a seductive idea. If you're so certain that your faith is correct, imposing that on others seems like a way to help, not oppress. And yet, despite his beliefs, part of faith is a lack of certainty, at least in Kurt's eyes. He /believes/. That's different than surety, different than knowledge. His belief carries no more weight than anyone else's, so how arrogant must one be to take that belief, that faith, and force it on others?

"Perhaps something as simple as grievances are brought before the council, which weighs the evidence and must agree on a resolution. Or, perhaps better, two thirds of the present council must agree? Wouldn't do to have the proceedings derailed by a single contrarian, which could be a genuine concern as our community grows and evolves. That would allow us to remain flexible." He rubbed his chin and knew the proposal had enormous holes. He could envision them even as he was proposing it, but it was a start.

After a moment he shook his head and sighed, "I can't argue with the potential need for cells, but if we use the cells we'll need to use nullifiers, much like the Friends used on us." Clawed fingers scratched absently at the side of his neck, digging through the soft fur coat to the skin underneath. He could still feel the collar at times. "With nullifiers, we'd not need to physically imprison many mutants, giving them a chance to be part of our community and better integrate and rehabilitate."

That actually generated a smile. "Yes... rather than collaring and kenneling mutants like animals, we can just give them a time to become better people without the distraction of mutant powers." Kurt snagged a banana with his tail, the barbed in deftly coiling about it like a boa grappling a wild boar, "I think that workable, and certainly, there will be those who need to be imprisoned for safety concerns, but most mutant criminals are probably just hurting and lost. We can help them find a place."



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