Current Timeline.
<Victor> The engine purred like a thing possessed as he turned into the driveway, the tuned growl bouncing around the building and a curl of cigar smoke escaping out of the window. The car had dents in the bonnet and what looked like claw marks, but despite that it was a damned nice car - and was blaring Motorhead right now. It finally rolled to a stop and the music and engine cut off, door opening for a booted foot to rest on the ground.
<Victor> He looked up, eyes calculating behind the sunglasses and tawny-blond hair falling into his face before he unfolded himself out of the car. At seven feet and built, he was bloody huge, a lion's tail curling behind him and ticking to get rid of pins and needles. Well now, this place was almost grand enough. He wondered if Fury was still here...
<Carol> The noise of the car disturbed Carol as she went over the information Fury had provided her and she closed her laptop before getting up to head out of her office and over to the front door, energy flashing over her to swap her more practical SHIELD uniform for the more presentable Air Force one as she opened the door.
<Victor> He looked around as the door opened, eyes hidden by the glasses and giving the woman a smirk. He recognised her from the dossier, shutting the door to his car and ambling over, hands in pockets. He had his ID, just in case, considering this was a completely unannounced visit. "Afternoon. Y' must be Lieutenant Colonel Danvers, righ'?" He wasn't going to mention anything he didn't have to, but he appreciated in leather and jeans he didn't look much right now.
<Carol> She gave a nod, "I am, and who might you be?"
<Victor> He pulled his hand out of his pocket, handing it over. "Air Chief Marshal Victor Creed, sweetheart. Same level as Fury. Woulda called ahead, but this is unofficial an' strictly personal, y' understan'?" He looked up at the building again.
<Carol> Carol shook the hand though pulled a face at being called 'sweetheart'. "I know the ranking system. Calling ahead would have been preferable, we've had enough surprises this last little while."
<Victor> "Yeah well, short notice an' this way no one can try to tell me it ain't a good idea." A grin gave her a flash of fangs as he released her hand from his large, clawed one. "That an' - strictly speakin' - I shouldn't be here, but hey." He pulled out his ID, handing it over. "Ex-student, believe it or not. Nick still around or am I lucky enough to have missed him?"
<Carol> Carol took the ID and looked it over, "General Fury has gone back to Washington to chase up a few leads." She offered the ID back, "Why are you here?"
<Victor> Vic looked up at the building again as he took the ID. "Xavier's was my home f' a long time, had my back durin' some bloody hard shit. I know quite a few people stayed on here - most of 'em mine and my wife's friends. I want t' check they're alright." And nothing to do with anything he was involved in, nope.
<Victor> "Well, guess me an' Nick can swap cigars and whiskey another time." He chuckled lightly. "Take it SHIELD's protectin' this place then?"
<Carol> "And renovating," She nodded, "So this is just a social call?"
<Victor> "Yup. Promise, one airman to another." Vic grinned innocently. "All I wanna know, Danvers, is that my friends - an' their home - is safe."
<Carol> "Safest place in the country after the Whitehouse and the Pentagon." She gestured to the building, "Want to have a look?"
<Victor> He gave her a slight smile, pulling off his sunglasses to reveal completely white eyes. "Hell yeah. An' if you've got any decent coffee I might jus' be tempted to accept a cup - I never got over my serious fuckin' dislike for flyin' in a plane I ain't controllin' myself." He slipped the glasses into a pocket. "Lead on."
<Carol> "Airforce rank and you hate to fly? There's something wrong with you." She shook her head, heading back into the building. "There's coffee all over."
<Victor> "No, no, I hate t' fly in planes I ain't in the pilot's seat of. Someone else flies 'em, I get incredibly airsick." Vic grinned, following her, noting the agents unobtrusively watching him, wondering how many of them Fury had given his description to - the man was smart, he'd probably know his opposite on British soil would come over about this soon.
<Victor> "And no one wants a sick pussy in a tin can, righ'?"
<Carol> "Then I would advise you to avoid coming with us when we go anywhere in the jet - I'm the pilot. Fury's orders."
<Victor> "Well, as I ain't precisely under SHIELD's jurisdiction, I wouldn't be joinin' you on it anyway." Vic chuckled. "Besides, I have my own top of th' range military jet, and Fury stole my idea of a heated pilot seat, one-eyed bastard that he is." As he walked, he pulled his jacket off and hooked it over a shoulder, showing he was bare-chested - and for good reason.
<Victor> Wearing a shirt over a full mane rubbed his fur all the wrong way. Quite literally.
<Carol> "None of the kids are under SHIELD's jurisdiction either - doesn't stop them. Doesn't stop the staff... and they all bitch about not being allowed to fly the jet when half of them aren't even qualified to fly a glider." She rolled her eyes. "As for heated pilot seats, I don't need them so I can't say I've ever noticed the difference." She turned to go into her office, "Nearest coffee station is in here."
<Victor> "I don't either. But hell knows I likes me a warm arse when I'm flyin' a goddamned nuclear warhead at th' speed of sound." Vic chuckled, glancing out of a window as it started to snow and wondering how many of the original gang were still here. Reports had been sporadic, with good reason he knew, but still... "Oh...one thing. I'd rather it was kept quiet tha' I'm here."
<Victor> "Guess as a SHIELD agent y' understand th' need for...certain people to stay outta the loop, as it were, an' I don't want people knowin' I'm military unless I decide - an' only Fury really has clearance to say otherwise." Vic was serious for a moment. "Last thing I need people seein' me as is another government spook."
<Carol> "I'd rather they didn't see me as a government spook either but I'm working on fixing that. Your secret's safe with me, means you're less likely to try and pull rank on me so I'm hardly going to say no." She gestured to the coffee machine, indicating that he could help himself whilst she retrieved her own coffee and heated it up.
<Victor> "Ah, see, I'd only do that if I kinda had to. You're American, an' though we both work under NATO I fuckin' hate Americans salutin'. Looks wrong. No offence." He grinned at her easily, automatically putting together a strong black coffee. "Besides. As I said, unofficial an' personal. On paper, I'm on leave an' spendin' time with my wife an' kids...who just so happen t' be over here right now."
<Carol> "There's no reason that you'd have to. I've been as open an honest with the students and staff here as I can be, even if some of the students don't think so. I plan to keep it that way. What I know, they know. This is supposed to be a partnership. For that to work, they need to trust me." She took a sip of her coffee and leaned back against her desk.
<Victor> He wrapped his hands around his coffee, quiet for a moment. "Good. This has always been somewhere t' protect th' most vulnerable of kids, an' righ' now they need someone t' trust. Give 'em time, they'll come 'round, but they ain' had good track records wit' governments." He gave her a bitter smirk. "Which is another reason I don't want 'em knowin' just how high I am."
<Carol> "Hey at least you can say you were once just like them. I don't have that luxury. And I have the added problem of a lot of the staff feeling like I'm coming in to just take over, which is exactly the opposite of what I want to do. I'm supposed to be some kind of consultant."
<Victor> "Ah, you'll be alrigh', darlin'." Vic smiled, leaning against the side. "Remember, they're nervous an' scared righ' now, an' hurtin'. You'll be a newcomer an' therefore a target - kinda like th' new kid in the barracks. Soon they'll be draggin' you out for keggers an' you'll wish they left you alone, if they're anythin' like when I was here."
<Carol> "I'm not supposed to get that involved." She shook her head, "The reason I was assigned to this role and not someone they're familiar with that has the same clearance level is because I'm supposed to be an objective third party to make sure they're sensible and don't go running off and get themselves in trouble again. They're an emotional bunch... honestly I'm surprised they only blew up two jets."
<Victor> "Yeeaaah, much as I like 'em, Kent, Drake, Brock an' Gibney ain't my first choices for this shit." Vic chuckled. "Oh, th' Blackbirds One an' Two were their babies, no joke. Y' shoulda seen Kent if someone so much as scuffed the paintwork. Anythin' else though, no matter what, was fair game...God, those years were fun." He took a mouthful. "Anyway, shall we continue?"
<Carol> "Babies or not, they still blew up. They're not cheap either." She straightened up, "I guess you'll be wanting to stay on the grounds?"
<Victor> "All depends. If it ain' done renovatin', me and the wifey's got a hotel close. If you are, well, sure, not like you ain' got the room here." Vic smirked. "An' didn't you know? Th' X-Men blow everythin' up. It's somethin' to do wit' bein' a teenager."
<Carol> "Yeah, I've read the file... we're all surprised the kitchen is still in one piece." She moved back out into the entrance hall, "The staff are staying in that building," She pointed out the window and down across the lawn to the Gray Gables building. "There's another couple there sharing a room... which I'm not pleased about because one of them's a student - she has a room here but it's full of frogs."
<Victor> "Hah, if th' kitchen's still standin', it's everywhere else you hafta worry about." Vic grinned, locks of tawny-blond falling into his face as he scratched the perma-stubble. "Alrigh', I'll see if th' missus is happy wit' that. An' back in the day, money weren't an object, not wit' old Chrome Dome..." He trailed off. "Fuck. Y' know, even wit' my clearance, reports are sketchy. Is Cess still here?"
<Victor> He didn't want to say the words, but is she still alive was very much there.
<Carol> "Oh yeah, she's around somewhere... her schedule's pretty full though, as I'm sure you can imagine." She turned and gestured down the corridor, "Her office is that way on the left if you wanted to try and catch her at lunch or something."
<Victor> Vic smiled, blank eyes flicking up and noting it. "May do. God knows it's been years, though, migh' not even remember me." Hah. He carried on following Carol, jacket over shoulder and hand stuck in pocket. "Seems like you lot's got this place sorted. Who's head of the kids now? Or do they fall under SHIELD now?" He hoped not. That would make his presence an...issue, at best...
<Carol> "SHIELD is just here to keep an eye on things, we're not really into the whole teaching thing... although while we're short on staff I've been talked into helping out." She shook her head. "That doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun but whatever." She walked along the corridor towards the back of the main building to show off where the kitchen and dining areas were.
<Carol> "Professor Lehnsherr is the Headteacher now, or well acting head but..." She gave a small shrug, "We don't know how long for."
<Victor> He nodded, frowning thoughtfully as he took in the information. "Well, if she's up t' it, me and the wife can toss in a helpin' hand if needed. Certainly for th' older generations, we'll be familiar faces at leas'. Holy fuck, Nick pulled out everythin' to get this place redone...I saw the original plans, this place was good t' fall in a good wind last I saw."
<Carol> "Yeah and it was draughty as all hell. We've plugged most of the gaps. This building is all finished, the students' dorms are above us. We have the first floor of the two wings either side finished too and all of the back part of this building where the kitchen is. The rest is still being worked on but it's all weather proof, finally. God knows we need it, a lot of them aren't used to all the snow."
<Carol> She smiled and shook her head, "It snows a bit in New York but nothing like you get here... I'm used to it though - grew up around here. Which might have had a little something to do with wanting to save this building in particular. But, you have to admit, the space is great."
<Victor> "Hell yes. I can remember jus' how cooped up it could feel in th' old place." He smiled a little sadly at the memories. "Hah, y' call this snow? Try livin' up in the Scottish Highlands - tha's where I live when I ain' bein' all military an' heroic." He chuckled. "...Though I could use all this space f' the bloody kids. Be glad you ain' a feral, sweetheart, we don' have single births, apparently." He pulled a face.
<Carol> Carol wrinkled her nose, both at being called sweetheart again and the idea of multiple children. "Yeah, no thanks... and this snow isn't as bad as it was. It was six feet in places when we got here and inside the building."
<Victor> "Yeah, it's exactly like tha'." He chuckled at her nose-wrinkle. "Wouldn' change 'em for the world, but holy shit I never figured I'd fin' the limit to my energy through kids." He was picking up a lot of new scents, tail ticking as he walked. "Reminds me of a couple weeks ago - me an' the girl got snowed in. Twenty feet of snow. Tha' was fun."
<Carol> "Ouch... yeah we try not to let it get that deep. We lost a few agents in a drift for a while. Turned out they'd constructed an igloo and were playing cards. They got suspended and put on shoveling duty for a week."
<Victor> "Hard not t' in Scotland, winters there are nasty as fuck, but then it's Scotland." Vic grinned. "Not tha' it stops me. Spent a day constructin' snow-castles in th' drifts, was great fun. How many agents y' got here then?"
<Carol> "We're just as far north as Scotland and we get some pretty bad winters, trust me." She poked her head into the spare dining hall to check for stragglers, "It varies from day to day but there's a permanent staff of about thirty, myself included. Then there's all the construction people on top of that."
<Victor> "Heh. I hadta get used to Scotland after London. Jus' gets soggy there." He caught sight of a kid - one he didn't recognise - ducking into a room with a determined expression and a sketchbook, trailing shadows. "I swear mutations get weirder every day."
<Carol> "You think that's bad? We have a gold Australian with giant wings who's about the same height as you." They reached the kitchen and she showed him inside.
<Victor> "Hah! Don' introduce me t' her, you know what happens wit' birds an' cats." He grinned, then looked around with a low whistle. "Holy hell. They better not blow this up, this is amazin'." His tail curled curiously as he looked it around. "I need th' name of your contractors, because I wan' this in my office."
<Carol> "Well... I insisted we have proper coffee because there were lots of complaints about the coffee and I have to live here now. The rest just sort of got added on..." She leaned against the counter, "Hopefully with such a nice kitchen, it'll discourage anyone from blowing it up just for kicks."
<Victor> "Don' think anyone back there wanted to blow th' kitchen up on purpose...after all, where would they get coffee from?" Something was bothering him, though. Vic looked around for a moment, putting his coffee and jacket down before finding a bit of scrap paper and pulling out a pen. Leaning on the top, he wrote something on it and then went to put it on the door.
<Victor> As he came back for his coffee, the words 'STAFF KITCHEN' could be seen. He gave Carol an innocent grin. "There. More like home."
<Carol> Carol laughed a little, "If they read that they'll think they have to go back to the field kitchen outside in the snow. No one wants that."
<Victor> "Are y' kiddin'? Assumin' none of the old lot recognise my shitty handwritin', they had that on the kitchen in Xavier's an' it never stopped 'em. Certainly didn' stop me." He chuckled.
<Carol> "Well I guess at least I know who to send them to to complain about it." She glanced around the kitchen, "Anything you want to see in particular? Like I said, this block's mostly done. There're art classrooms behind the kitchen, temporary classrooms everywhere else until there's enough blocks completed for everyone. We're doing other things with the rest of the buildings onsite."
<Victor> Vic looked into his coffee thoughtfully. "Actually...if y' don't mind, I'd like t' take a wander around by myself?" He smiled at her. "Bes' way to learn somewhere is t' get lost, an' I might run into an old frien' or somethin'. Don' worry about me stickin' my nose where it shouldn't be, I won' be goin' near SHIELD."
<Carol> "You'd be hard pressed to avoid us around here," she offered a small smirk, "But, sure, feel free to take a look around... but if you get down into the tunnels and get lost, no one can help you - no cell service down there."
<Victor> Vic just smirked and tapped his nose. "I'm th' world's best tracker, doll. I don't get lost." He looked around then. "I'll come find y' when my girl wants t' settle for the nigh', she's doin' womany things at the moment. Thanks f' showin' me around, though."
<Carol> "No problem. I'll be in my office most of the day - paperwork's piled up so I need to get through it or it'll go in the shredder..."
<Victor> "That's why I love my rank. I employ people t' do my paperwork for me." Vic grinned, finishing his coffee and putting the cup down. "Alrigh'. I'll catch y' later, Lieutenant Colonel. Oh...think I already mentioned but...keep it on th' down-low tha' I'm here. Bad enough Fury hasta know my movements on USA soil." He gave her a half-hearted salute and headed out of the kitchen, pulling his jacket back on.