Xaviers!

About two days after the festival ended, a rideshare car drove up to the front of Xaviers' University.

Will got out, and leaned back in, saying something to the driver and laughing before tapping the top of the car and letting them drive off, making the long walk up the drive.

He was wearing...well, skin-tight green and black latex. Almost like a diving suit, except most diving suits didn't have a massive open panel, stretching from the neck to just above the hips, creating a large oval of bare skin. Proportionally, most of him was covered in clothing, so it he wasn't in danger of an indecent exposure charge or anything -- and, after all, X-Men uniforms could sometimes be a bit tight, as well -- but at the same time, it was clear that he probably wasn't going to head directly to class dressed like this.

He seemed fairly pleased with himself, however, so it wasn't quite a walk of shame. Too self-confident for that. And not at all bothered by any looks that were shot his way; that was, after all, kind of the point of something like this, right?

((open))

"Is this the kind of evening attire people wear in the future?" Miriam calls out, a hint of teasing amusement in her voice. She's sitting on the steps leading up to the dorms, leaning against the wall with one shoulder, an umbrella propped up on the other as she's smoking.

"Depends on what part of town you're in. I think the Royal Opera House still has a stick up their bum about it," Will called back.

"Their loss. You missed quite the night out yourself, but you seem like you rather enjoyed yourself... Make any new friends?"

"I'm everybody's friend, Miriam. I'm generally jovial," Will said, with a look.

"Jovial's not the word I would use to describe the attitude you're trying to convey with that. Not that I'm complaining, it's rather fetching." she smirks.

"Confidence can be jovial, Miriam. Sometimes, at least," Will grinned.

"Whoever you were with, I am 100% certain they would not pick 'jovial' as the first thing that comes to mind when asked about this entire situation." she laughs, waving her finger at Will in a circular motion, vaguely indicating the neckline plunging all the way to the edge of pelvic decency.

"Well, I suppose you are a vampire," Will admitted. "So I suppose you might describe this as a cicchetto."

"I won't argue with that. You are quite a little snack."

"Well, I'm sure if you're famished, the mirror will have a six-pack for you that would love to help off. This snack just got off the clock, and is looking to put his feet up and shower down."

"That's only fair but I do want to know where you've been. Any place encouraging that kind of outfit is worth a visit..."

"I'm not sure Omega is quite up your alley. Wrong kind of goods on offer, generally speaking," Will nodded.

"Such as you? Or were you there to... peruse?"

"Perform, actually. Festivals and block parties and the like are an all-hands-on-deck sort of situation; I figured I'd go down and see if I couldn't help out. Been a bit, but I shook off the rust soon enough."

"And that would not be to my liking why exactly?"

"I mean, it's an all-dude club and review. Different strokes for different folks."

"As much as this is kind of working for me, that does sound like it isn't my scene."

"I mean, if you want to go and check it out for yourself, it doesn't have, like, a secret password or anything. There's a bit of a run of those sorts of things down there -- Omega, Miscreant, Xzotic, all kind of going after their own little audience; varying levels of taste and class.

But, well, we both know what kind of place you tend to prefer," he said, not entirely keeping an edge out of his voice there.

"Excuse me? I didn't realize my tastes were on trial here." she says with a frown that's bordering on a glare.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, it's been a long few days, I'm tired, and the filter from brain to mouth was never the best to begin with," Will said, trying to wave it off. "No offense meant, seriously. Just you favor a different class of club."

"I do but how's that prompt this kind of snapping?"

"It doesn't at all; it's entirely unjustified," Will said, again trying to deflect. "Just coming down from an endorphin high, I'm sure; pay it no mind whatsoever."

He waved his hand, trying to dismiss Miriam's concerns, in an alltogether unconvincing performance.

"Yeah, endorphins always make me pissy too and you're a shitty liar."

"Better than being such an exceptional liar you wouldn't notice, right?" Will tried, with an abashed smile.

"OK, OK, I was out of line and trying to backtrack things, because I need to judge things by people's actions in this universe. Chalk it up as a personal fault of mine and move on?" he tried.

"She took you to that club. Or one like it." It's phrased like a question but her inflection doesn't make it sound like one.

"Why do that to yourself then? Stick your finger in that wound?"

"OK, A) she didn't take me to this club. This club is a professional place for performers, where the clientele appreciate the skill of the people on stage on multiple levels; they go to see them. It isn't some club with people in cages hanging from the ceiling for ambiance.

And 2) I don't need to explain myself here; I can deal with...you know, with things...in any way that seems appropriate to me."

Will was on the defensive here, which may have come off tougher were he wearing literally anything else.

"You don't have to do anything, no. And I'm not going to stop you from heading in and hopping into the mirror to sleep whatever this is off."

"But don't bloody snap at me over something I didn't do and then pretend everything's fine. If you want to talk, you know where to find me and if you don't then good luck working through your baggage being a venerated performer."

"Look, I'm sorry I snapped. It struck a nerve, that's all.

And I'm fairly sure you would prefer not to talk about this, yeah? So I guess we're all good, then."

"I like going to clubs and I like bringing you along. I've already set you off once to the point you ran off to live on a farm doing just that."

"I don't believe you've actually taken me to a club," Will said, thinking. "I took you to a club; it was my idea.

...I'm working on it. I'm working through it. It's...there's a lot. A lot there."

"Right, you missed the outing with Samantha. Was that one more okay with everything because you took all the baggage with you?"

"I don't think it works like that. I don't think this is something you can just...excise like a tumor."

"No, but then people usually can't split parts of themselves off to begin with. It could very well be how this works, we don't know. If you were carrying this burden it might have made it lighter for the rest of you." she shrugs.

"These aren't exactly well-trodden paths we're talking about."

"Surely, though, there must be something that permeates everything, down to it's very core. Otherwise, the versions of me aren't...versions of me; they're just some random people.

And, well, some things cut deep."

"You're right but that's... deeply saddening to think it cuts that deep."

"Deeply saddening wasn't what I was going for in the club. They have to pay extra for that," Will tried to joke.

Miriam let's out something between a scoff and a laugh.

"Do what makes you happy, Will."

"That's what my therapist said. Easier said than done, y'know? But I'm working on it," he said, brushing some imaginary dirt off of his shoulder.

"Therapists..." she says and this time it is a scoff.

"That was back home? Or do you pick someone to send out to go talk to somebody here?"