#firstxman

@firstxman​

It was too easy to watch others take this for granted. To have a figure in their lives that someone else didn’t have and brush off the meaning of the words. But Rachel had a life, a few of them, without her father. Without her mother. Without so many people that she had here. Everything the world took for granted was something that Rachel had to fight for. And being handed it — being told in a few short words that she wasn’t alone, that she could lean on someone — on her father — it meant something. Even if Rachel couldn’t put it into words the way she wished.

The worst part was that without her saying it — he’d never know how grateful she was for that. Not really. And maybe not at all with the way she often received his warmth. It wasn’t like the way she acted when her mother eased into a relationship. She hadn’t told him about all his failures in the past like she had shared with Jean. (Was that better or worse? Kindness or cruelty?)

Pressing her lips together, Rachel gave a firm nod, not sure how to open that door without letting in too much — or letting out too much. “Thanks.” The word was awkward and choked. “But maybe we should stick to promises we can keep.” A poor joke, but the track record in their family was… not great. And they were painfully aware of it. (Hopefully enough that she could get a laugh about of him for this.) “Maybe a promise for… something to eat when mom cooks? Under the table?”

@firstxman​

It was statements like these that Colleen was reminded of how much alone she and Scott were. He struggled to apologize properly and Colleen was the same — always putting something between herself and the problem at hand. Like a box of pizza. Or some other kind of peace offering that would help elevate tensions. But sorry was… a strained word. Something that when she did use it, felt… overused. Like a bandaid of a word that was meant to smooth things over but it wasn’t the magical word of healing that people hoped it was.

@firstxman

Natasha dropped her gun, looking at the creature - decoration - thing that had just tried to attack her. She had shot to wound at first, but a few body shots and she realized... it wasn't going to go down without a lethal one. She was crouched down next to the body, a finger in the pumpkin spillage and a blank expression on her face as she tried to piece it all together. Nothing about this made sense - and when Scott spoke, she glanced upward, shocked that he'd talk to her at all, but nothing on her face hinting at the feeling.

"Let's hope they don't have some kind of hive mind going on," Natasha muttered, not knowing enough about the creatures to give any helpful advice. Other than aim for the head. There was another rumbling around them, a strange shuffling that didn't match any human movements. "We're surrounded."

Making witty remarks was as natural to Remy as breathing, even if the situation was not the best. In fact, he tended to make even more jokes when the situation was not the best. Surely Scott knew that by now, and thus should have known that he was hardly going to stay silent when there were pumpkins, skeletons and other decorations moving around. So when they had been set upon by a couple of rowdy skeletons, Remy let one of them have it with the ace of spades, the explosion sending the now-loose bones collapsing to the ground. Naturally, his reaction to this sight was to remark how dat's gonna leave a mark, no bones 'bout it!

Scott, however, clearly did not appreciate the humor. "What?" Remy looked at him, spreading his hands, "Dat was classique! Come on mon ami, if dis situation ain't callin' for a plethora o' puns, I don' know what else would!"

@firstxman

@firstxman

Rachel made a face and shook her head. “No, one of the students gave them to me and I think it’s pretty clever. I mean, they’re tiny and they hold little projectiles — bullets, I guess... but they’re much smaller and lighter. And you know, you can’t actually hurt someone by accident with them! They don’t have enough firepower behind them to do any real damage. They’re like a nerf gun.” Rachel pointed the tiny guns and shot one at the wall as a demonstration. Which she really should have done without an audience. Because the student who had given it to her? A genius but a troublemaker. And now there was a hole in the wall. “Oh.” Rachel put them both down and cleared her throat. “They might just be tiny, regular guns.” 

@firstxman

(✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): [unsent] Did I do something— (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): [unsent] Did /you/ do something? (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): [unsent] Why this— (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Thanks. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): [unsent] NO THAT'S WRONG. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): I mean you're important to me too.

@firstxman​

Rachel swallowed. This was probably a bad time to tell him that not only did people believe he was that old — the ones that she had told this joke to had actually been confused that he wasn’t older. They had a look on their faces like she had been lying to make her dad come off as younger. (Mid-forties, they had said. He passed as a man in his mid-forties.) She looked at him, nodding her head like it was a stretch, and shoveling an overly large bite of her mother’s tuna casserole. He’d know something was up, but with any luck… she’d end up throwing up and her dad would be forced to drop the subject all together.

“You know,” Rachel said, choking on the food as she forced it down. “You’d never know this was only made yesterday by the taste.” She was digging herself a hole. Rachel straightened up and then waved her fork in the air like she had suddenly remembered something. “What was up with you and that Wing woman? I saw her around the community center a while back, I didn’t realize you two dated… kinda weird going to her wedding.”