Xaviers!

"Family tradition, huh? Must be kinda nice. Pops ain't a mutant or anything, so I had to kinda figure out all this on my own. Don't get me wrong; he helped in other ways. Just not a book on what to do when yer kid starts walking through the walls."

"It's just my parents, so I dunno about tradition quote yet." she chuckles. "But yeah, I never had to wonder too much. Benefits of being born at a mutant school too. Kinda skews your perspective on this stuff."

"Yeah, I guess you've kinda got a...different view on how things work out in the world, yeah? With everyone bouncing off of walls or blasting lasers from their eyes or whathaveyou."

"Little bit. People don't... give you a hard time for this, do they? Aside from the goons, I mean."

"Well, I mean, you get shit from time to time, aye? Just one of those things. People spittin' down, and you just gotta make your own umbrella."

"I mean you shouldn't have to but I get it. I think. Still, that sucks."

"Eh, I'm making my way alright, don't worry about me. Don't need no silver spoon up my ass to make my way through," Ryan smiled, half-cockily. "Got a few things on the fire, I'll be fine."

"Oof. Is that how you see me?" she jokes with a mock-hurt expression on her face. "And I can't even argue with it. Hell I even picked a look that screams 'backpacking around Europe', didn't I?" she asks, squinting at her vague reflection in the window around the helm of their boat. She grabs her cheeks and pulls on them just a tad too much than what human skin would tolerate before letting them snap back into place.

"Well, I mean, I guess you just kinda look what you wanna look like, right? Let me guess - you wanted to see what it was really like roughing it," Ryan said, with physical air quotes.

"That sounds so... I dunno." Robin makes a face as if she's just biten into something sour. "I wanted to get out of my bubble, not... pretend 'rough it'. Is that shitty? Cause it feels a little shitty all of a sudden." she admits.

"Eh. It's hard to know what you don't know, y'know? And I bet your classes never prepared you for 'fighting the mafia', so that's pretty real, right? Don't be too hard on yourself, Pink."

"Maybe not the Mafia, but you'd be surprised!" she laughs. "But yeah, guess it's inevitable to look a little blundery when you try to learn."

"Yeah, and effort is somethin' in and of itself. Besides, you look like you, yeah? If you tried to look like someone else, that's just less authentic."

"Sorta. I look like the me I feel like looking like. I did kind of pick this look for this trip. I guess this is VacationRobin." she says, running her hands down from her shoulders and sweeping out in kind of a ta-dah gesture.

"Yeah, but it's all basically you, right? I mean, that's how it works? Like, putting on a different t-shirt or something. You're not, like, disguised as something you're not. Right?"

"I don't think I am. I guess other people might..."

Robin Stanton wrote:"I don't think I am. I guess other people might..."

"Well, fuck other people, right? You gotta do what's right for you in the end. You can't live with yourself, who can ya live with, yeah?" Ryan said, as she maneuvered the boat back into the bay proper.

"I mean yeah, that's obviously the most important thing and anyone who goes 'Okay but what do you really look like' is an asshole, but, like... people see you differently. Right now I'm 'obvious backpacker tourist', back home I was usually 'Will Stanton's kid'. Everything's got it's baggage, you know?"

"Well, I have no idea who that is, so you're free from that at least. I'd hate to be just known as my pop's kid all the time. Gotta make a name for yourself, y'know?"

"Exactly! That's the main reason I changed it up. For myself mostly since, yeah, no one I meet is gonna know."

"You plannin' on being Captain Pink, the Boat Stealer? Or did you have a plan with your wanderin' around? Feels like I owe you a solid after what you did for me."

"Probably not!" she chuckles. "I don't really have much of a plan though. I'm just kind of seeing where this trip takes me. Trying not to do the obvious tourist things. Instead of the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre I went to a demo-turned-riot in Paris and got myself arrested." she says, scratching the back of her head in a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "I definitely gotta go and visit Da Vinci's hometown though and then Florence. Or maybe the other way around. Beyond that, who knows!" she grins.

"Ah, spending a night in the slammer. You are doing the whole 'backpacker experience' thing, aren't you?" Ryan laughed. "I suppose it's easy to get past the gendarme when you can look like whatever you like, aye?

You, uh. You hangin' around for a little longer, or do ya gotta go check out Leonardo and the rest of the Ninja Turtles?"

"They did kind of taze me into a pile of goo but I had some help busting out. And I'm in no rush to get out of dodge. Besides, I just found this cool bar." she chuckles.

"Taze you into goo? Noted. Don't zap the pink girl," Ryan nodded.

"You're, ah. Welcome to stay around in the bar for a bit, if you need a place to stay. The hostels can be hostile."

"That bad, huh? And yeah, me and electricity don't get along great. That's part of what got me so winded. Who knew ship engines had sparkplugs."

"Like, how long does it normally take for you to get less...gooey? A couple minutes or so?" Ryan asked casually, pulling the boat up to the docks.

"Depends how bad the shock is and how tired I am. It's mostly like catching your breath after a long sprint, just winded and you gotta take a minute or ten to get yourself back to being able to be a proper person."

"Gotcha. Don't need to worry about static electricity then," Ryan nodded, mock-seriously.

"Not so much, no. I mean, it still zaps so worry the normal amount." she nods solemnly before breaking out into a grin. "So, what do you usually do after an early morning of sending smuggler-freighters out to sea?"

"Well, in all my lengthy experience," Ryan joked. "Usually breakfast is a good palate cleanser."

"Yes! The bigger the better!" Robin says and her stomach actually audibly rumbles over the slow puttering of the boat slowing to a stop.