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Who: Kurt Wagner & Manuel de la Rocha
When: April 27th, 2025 (after returning from the Savage Land)
Where: A park in Mount Vernon
What: Kurt and Manuel discuss souls and alternate realities.
Warnings: n/a
The weather is pleasant. Maybe it’s because spring arrived in their absence, or maybe it’s because they’ve been recently freed from a humid jungle. A light breeze catches Kurt’s hair as he exits the church with Manuel. This is a normal sight in Mount Vernon, Kurt Wagner and his civilian friend attending mass. The pair of them in a crowd of familiar faces wishing them a nice day, asking how they’ve been, and where they had been the last two weeks. (In Europe, visiting family.) It hardly brings out any photographers anymore, so long as the X-Men haven’t been up to anything newsworthy.
Kurt had a difficult time focusing this morning. His thoughts kept wandering, composing different ways to ask an unsuspecting priest about the nature of souls. It’s hard to explain without getting into their… dilemma, but talking about it is making him feel unmoored from reality.
However, there’s at least one person who might humor him. Wisps of hopefulness radiate off Kurt as he glances over at Manny. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
Kurt has had a lot on his mind all morning. Manuel doesn't know exactly what he's been thinking about -- he's not a mind reader, after all -- but it's no surprise when his friend invites him out for a walk. And, presumably, a talk.
He nods easily, stepping away from the familiar, lingering crowd and toward the steps leading down from the modest church. It's nothing like the grand Gothic cathedral he'd attended in his youth -- the Catedral de Burgos -- but it gets the job done and they've been coming here for so long he's developed a certain fondness for it. "If we can stop for espresso after," he returns, waiting for Kurt to join him, "Lead the way, mi amigo."
“My treat,” Kurt agrees. He leads them in the direction of a small park, folding his hands behind his back as they go, tail swaying with each step. “Just promise you won’t tell Emma if I put sugar in mine again. I know that she already knows, but I hate disappointing her. Your disappointment, that I can handle.”
Manuel falls into step with Kurt, his features contorting into an exaggerated grimace at his friend's premeditated coffee crimes and dismissal of his disappointment. But he understands, of course. No one's disappointment is as scathing as Emma's and he doesn't like to let her down either.
"Heathen," he replies with a sigh and the hint of a smile, "And you've still never even tried a cortado. But...lo prometo. Your shameful secret is safe with me."
He continues to walk, silently appreciating the mild weather and the breeze and the familiarity of the town around them. It's good to be home again and it's good to be doing normal, sane, predictable things again. Even if the situation in which they've found themselves is none of those things and still looms over every moment, no matter how seemingly peaceful. He's certain Kurt feels it too. He tilts his head back and glances up into the greenery and the fragmented sunlight breaking through as they pass under the branches of a large maple tree.
“What a gentleman,” Kurt teases, flashing a fanged grin at Manny. After that he lets the pleasant silence embrace them. Since getting home his worries have not decreased, but he’s been more grounded. Less adrift. There are no good answers yet, but there’s his home, his friends, his family. Ambrose is not an entirely welcome guest, but he’s here and Kurt is making the best of it. He still believes that the strange man will come around, especially now that he’ll have to witness them as living, feeling people and not simple unfortunate errors.
“Can I ask you an existential question?”
Immediately, Manuel looks back at Kurt, his attention focused and his curiosity piqued. He knows what the question is likely related to, of course, but their situation lends itself to all manner of existential questions. Each more dreadful than the last in his experience. But...he wants to know what's been on the other man's mind.
"And here I thought you just wanted the pleasure of my company," he replies with disingenuous ease, "...But sĂ. Ask it."
”I can multitask,” Kurt counters reflexively. But as much as he enjoys these witty exchanges with Manny, that’s not what he’s here for.
”First,” he starts again just as they enter the park, “do you believe it? That we are misplaced?” He keeps his emotions steady, keeping his cards close to his chest until Manuel speaks. Kurt’s usually loud emotions go still, like he’s holding his breath.
Kurt doesn't have to wait long. Manuel's answer is reluctant but immediate.
"...SĂ. I believe it."
The idea is an unwelcome one, of course, but one that had resonated with him on a bone-deep level as soon as he'd heard it. The vivid dreams and the unsettling bond that he'd felt with that other version of himself seem like they can only be explained by a strong connection and the explanation provided to them by the Siege Perilous lines up with that. And intuition aside, if it weren't true, Charles or Emma would know by now.
"It...feels true. No?" he adds without missing a beat, his gray eyes remaining focused on Kurt, "That is why you are so troubled by it."
Kurt tenses up. Even if he wanted to deny it, Manny, as always, can see through him. He wonders if he still could without his powers, but that’s a pointless thought to follow. He dislikes that it feels true. He told Scott he doesn’t believe it, that it must just be what Ambrose believes is true. That’s still possible, but like they agreed, the situation isn’t changed whether it’s a technical threat or a metaphysical threat.
Kurt watches their feet, avoiding Manny’s eyes. “I’m not certain yet. I’m still trying to understand how this all fits together. Our souls. Did God truly make a mistake? Is our life here just an error?”
Manuel can see through Kurt, but the truth revealed in his emotions doesn't change anything. The man is conflicted and confused and uncertain. He has doubts and he doesn't even know what he wants to believe. But that would be obvious to anyone looking at him now.
And, given the circumstances, it's understandable.
"God doesn't make mistakes," he responds, evenly but reflexively, though he knows it's a hollow reassurance. Saying that everything happens for a reason often falls short even when dealing with the more mundane cruelties of the world; it certainly isn't up to the task of putting their minds at ease with something as existentially bizarre as this. He shakes his head. "...Even if our souls originated somewhere else, that doesn't make them any less ours now. Perhaps we're one with those other selves. Perhaps we'll be judged as one someday. But our lives now are our own and this is where we're meant to be. No matter what Ambrose has to say about it."
He sounds more certain that he feels. The situation is fraught with unanswerable questions, but he isn't prepared to write off his entire existence just yet. Especially not for the sake of another version of him that had been so unrepentantly horrible.
God doesn’t make mistakes. It’s heresy, but Kurt isn’t sure that’s true. There are a lot of wrongs He could right, so either He’s flawed, or He’s complicit. Maybe he’ll ask forgiveness for these thoughts the next time he’s proven wrong. Bitterness and sadness seep into him.
“You’re quite the philosopher,” he says, smiling sadly at nothing in particular. “If this is all real, will you go back if you’re told you have to?”
Manuel can feel Kurt's mood sink even lower and his jaw clenches in frustration with himself and the situation. There may've been more reassuring words to offer, but he can't think of any that he could've given his friend with sincerity. And he wants to be sincere.
Though, that inclination wavers with Kurt's next question.
He sighs stiffly and considers before answering in a tense but controlled voice, "...If there's a chance I'd have to live that life? No. Never by choice."
Kurt looks over at Manny. He aches, but doesn’t resent Manny for saying what both of them are coming to terms with. Manny is someone he knows won’t sugarcoat his words for anyone’s sake. One of the people in his life with the most potential for manipulation, but still so direct. Kurt likes directness.
“I’m going to fight to keep us here,” Kurt says without hesitation. Ever-confident, even when it’s not earned. “This is your life now, mein Freund.”
Manuel can feel Kurt's resolve and sorrow in equal measure and he understands both. He also intends to do everything within his power to maintain this life, but the forces acting against them feel enormous and he doesn't know if those intentions will matter at all in the end. And that's daunting. He remains quiet for a moment.
"...Then we are in agreement," he answers finally, unwavering, "And Ambrose will have his work cut out for him."
Then he pauses again, seeming to hesitate. His jaw clenches and his lips tighten, but he does continue. "In that other reality, my other reality," he explains, "I never met any of you at the Xavier Institute. We were strangers. Then we were enemies. I...cannot accept that this could be the mistake. Given the alternative. If you prefer a less philosophical answer."
“I like your philosophy,” Kurt says with a soft laugh. “You understand things I don’t.” Their walk steadily leads them down into the park, towards the distant sound of ducks quacking and going about their duck business. Kurt sort of likes the wet, mildew smell. The opposite of when he teleports.
“If by fate or accident, if this is the world in which we are friends and family?” Kurt hesitates, thinking. Resolve, and then a wave of protectiveness. Possessiveness? Precious adoration? Desperation? (Anger?) “Then that makes it all the more dear to me.”
Sometimes Kurt's emotions are overwhelming to Manuel. Too intense. Too sincere. Too focused on him. He braces himself silently as the tide comes in and lets everything wash over him. It would be easy to be swept away in it, but he knows better than that and holds fast. Instead, he remains quiet for a long moment before looking at his friend again and smirking dryly.
"You are so terribly sentimental," he points out, disregarding that his own admission had prompted that response in the first place. Still. The other man feels less uncertain that he had when they'd started and that's something.
"...Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"
“Me? Sentimental?” he asks, grinning at a duck preening itself instead of looking at Manny. Embarrassed, perhaps. “Where did you get that idea?” Kurt can laugh at himself, especially since Manny isn’t wrong. Even Kurt knows he is, occasionally, too much. But for now, his emotions finally settle down again, pulling back out to sea until they’re just surf lapping at the beach. The feelings still linger, but they’re quieter with each moment.
Kurt’s question is rhetorical, of course, while Manny’s isn’t. “You already answered most of them,” he admits. “Sometimes I forget how good you are at giving advice. You’re surprisingly wise when you want to be.”
Manuel's smirk widens at Kurt's denial but he doesn't respond otherwise. He doesn't need to. His friend may as well be claiming that the sky isn't blue. He focuses on the offered praise instead, lifting his chin and soaking it in contentedly.
"Nothing surprising about it," he quips back, clearly pleased with himself even if he knows they haven't actually accomplished anything. Apart from, perhaps, lifting each other's spirits a little. "But I'm glad you're finally taking notice."
“Sooner or later, your ego will grow so big that I won’t be able to fit in the same room as you,” Kurt complains, but he’s never that displeased to see Manny smiling. He makes Kurt think of a content snake sunning on a rock.
"And so?" Manuel inquires, seemingly unconcerned with this hypothetical problem or his friend's assessment of his ego. Having an ego is only a problem if it's undeserved and he's worked hard to be worthy of his.
Kurt shakes his head in defeat, as though he had put up much of a fight. “Hopefully you’re not too good for me to let me buy you that espresso?”
This meaningless victory only encourages Manuel and he places a hand briefly on Kurt's shoulder as they continue to walk. He gives it a squeeze, a teasing reassurance, before drawing his hand lightly down the other man's back and then dropping it to his side again.
"Claro que no," he returns easily, "I have earned it."
With his head rolled back so he can pretend to smile at the sky instead of the touch, Kurt lets Manny have another win. “I suppose that you have.”
When: April 27th, 2025 (after returning from the Savage Land)
Where: A park in Mount Vernon
What: Kurt and Manuel discuss souls and alternate realities.
Warnings: n/a
The weather is pleasant. Maybe it’s because spring arrived in their absence, or maybe it’s because they’ve been recently freed from a humid jungle. A light breeze catches Kurt’s hair as he exits the church with Manuel. This is a normal sight in Mount Vernon, Kurt Wagner and his civilian friend attending mass. The pair of them in a crowd of familiar faces wishing them a nice day, asking how they’ve been, and where they had been the last two weeks. (In Europe, visiting family.) It hardly brings out any photographers anymore, so long as the X-Men haven’t been up to anything newsworthy.
Kurt had a difficult time focusing this morning. His thoughts kept wandering, composing different ways to ask an unsuspecting priest about the nature of souls. It’s hard to explain without getting into their… dilemma, but talking about it is making him feel unmoored from reality.
However, there’s at least one person who might humor him. Wisps of hopefulness radiate off Kurt as he glances over at Manny. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
Kurt has had a lot on his mind all morning. Manuel doesn't know exactly what he's been thinking about -- he's not a mind reader, after all -- but it's no surprise when his friend invites him out for a walk. And, presumably, a talk.
He nods easily, stepping away from the familiar, lingering crowd and toward the steps leading down from the modest church. It's nothing like the grand Gothic cathedral he'd attended in his youth -- the Catedral de Burgos -- but it gets the job done and they've been coming here for so long he's developed a certain fondness for it. "If we can stop for espresso after," he returns, waiting for Kurt to join him, "Lead the way, mi amigo."
“My treat,” Kurt agrees. He leads them in the direction of a small park, folding his hands behind his back as they go, tail swaying with each step. “Just promise you won’t tell Emma if I put sugar in mine again. I know that she already knows, but I hate disappointing her. Your disappointment, that I can handle.”
Manuel falls into step with Kurt, his features contorting into an exaggerated grimace at his friend's premeditated coffee crimes and dismissal of his disappointment. But he understands, of course. No one's disappointment is as scathing as Emma's and he doesn't like to let her down either.
"Heathen," he replies with a sigh and the hint of a smile, "And you've still never even tried a cortado. But...lo prometo. Your shameful secret is safe with me."
He continues to walk, silently appreciating the mild weather and the breeze and the familiarity of the town around them. It's good to be home again and it's good to be doing normal, sane, predictable things again. Even if the situation in which they've found themselves is none of those things and still looms over every moment, no matter how seemingly peaceful. He's certain Kurt feels it too. He tilts his head back and glances up into the greenery and the fragmented sunlight breaking through as they pass under the branches of a large maple tree.
“What a gentleman,” Kurt teases, flashing a fanged grin at Manny. After that he lets the pleasant silence embrace them. Since getting home his worries have not decreased, but he’s been more grounded. Less adrift. There are no good answers yet, but there’s his home, his friends, his family. Ambrose is not an entirely welcome guest, but he’s here and Kurt is making the best of it. He still believes that the strange man will come around, especially now that he’ll have to witness them as living, feeling people and not simple unfortunate errors.
“Can I ask you an existential question?”
Immediately, Manuel looks back at Kurt, his attention focused and his curiosity piqued. He knows what the question is likely related to, of course, but their situation lends itself to all manner of existential questions. Each more dreadful than the last in his experience. But...he wants to know what's been on the other man's mind.
"And here I thought you just wanted the pleasure of my company," he replies with disingenuous ease, "...But sĂ. Ask it."
”I can multitask,” Kurt counters reflexively. But as much as he enjoys these witty exchanges with Manny, that’s not what he’s here for.
”First,” he starts again just as they enter the park, “do you believe it? That we are misplaced?” He keeps his emotions steady, keeping his cards close to his chest until Manuel speaks. Kurt’s usually loud emotions go still, like he’s holding his breath.
Kurt doesn't have to wait long. Manuel's answer is reluctant but immediate.
"...SĂ. I believe it."
The idea is an unwelcome one, of course, but one that had resonated with him on a bone-deep level as soon as he'd heard it. The vivid dreams and the unsettling bond that he'd felt with that other version of himself seem like they can only be explained by a strong connection and the explanation provided to them by the Siege Perilous lines up with that. And intuition aside, if it weren't true, Charles or Emma would know by now.
"It...feels true. No?" he adds without missing a beat, his gray eyes remaining focused on Kurt, "That is why you are so troubled by it."
Kurt tenses up. Even if he wanted to deny it, Manny, as always, can see through him. He wonders if he still could without his powers, but that’s a pointless thought to follow. He dislikes that it feels true. He told Scott he doesn’t believe it, that it must just be what Ambrose believes is true. That’s still possible, but like they agreed, the situation isn’t changed whether it’s a technical threat or a metaphysical threat.
Kurt watches their feet, avoiding Manny’s eyes. “I’m not certain yet. I’m still trying to understand how this all fits together. Our souls. Did God truly make a mistake? Is our life here just an error?”
Manuel can see through Kurt, but the truth revealed in his emotions doesn't change anything. The man is conflicted and confused and uncertain. He has doubts and he doesn't even know what he wants to believe. But that would be obvious to anyone looking at him now.
And, given the circumstances, it's understandable.
"God doesn't make mistakes," he responds, evenly but reflexively, though he knows it's a hollow reassurance. Saying that everything happens for a reason often falls short even when dealing with the more mundane cruelties of the world; it certainly isn't up to the task of putting their minds at ease with something as existentially bizarre as this. He shakes his head. "...Even if our souls originated somewhere else, that doesn't make them any less ours now. Perhaps we're one with those other selves. Perhaps we'll be judged as one someday. But our lives now are our own and this is where we're meant to be. No matter what Ambrose has to say about it."
He sounds more certain that he feels. The situation is fraught with unanswerable questions, but he isn't prepared to write off his entire existence just yet. Especially not for the sake of another version of him that had been so unrepentantly horrible.
God doesn’t make mistakes. It’s heresy, but Kurt isn’t sure that’s true. There are a lot of wrongs He could right, so either He’s flawed, or He’s complicit. Maybe he’ll ask forgiveness for these thoughts the next time he’s proven wrong. Bitterness and sadness seep into him.
“You’re quite the philosopher,” he says, smiling sadly at nothing in particular. “If this is all real, will you go back if you’re told you have to?”
Manuel can feel Kurt's mood sink even lower and his jaw clenches in frustration with himself and the situation. There may've been more reassuring words to offer, but he can't think of any that he could've given his friend with sincerity. And he wants to be sincere.
Though, that inclination wavers with Kurt's next question.
He sighs stiffly and considers before answering in a tense but controlled voice, "...If there's a chance I'd have to live that life? No. Never by choice."
Kurt looks over at Manny. He aches, but doesn’t resent Manny for saying what both of them are coming to terms with. Manny is someone he knows won’t sugarcoat his words for anyone’s sake. One of the people in his life with the most potential for manipulation, but still so direct. Kurt likes directness.
“I’m going to fight to keep us here,” Kurt says without hesitation. Ever-confident, even when it’s not earned. “This is your life now, mein Freund.”
Manuel can feel Kurt's resolve and sorrow in equal measure and he understands both. He also intends to do everything within his power to maintain this life, but the forces acting against them feel enormous and he doesn't know if those intentions will matter at all in the end. And that's daunting. He remains quiet for a moment.
"...Then we are in agreement," he answers finally, unwavering, "And Ambrose will have his work cut out for him."
Then he pauses again, seeming to hesitate. His jaw clenches and his lips tighten, but he does continue. "In that other reality, my other reality," he explains, "I never met any of you at the Xavier Institute. We were strangers. Then we were enemies. I...cannot accept that this could be the mistake. Given the alternative. If you prefer a less philosophical answer."
“I like your philosophy,” Kurt says with a soft laugh. “You understand things I don’t.” Their walk steadily leads them down into the park, towards the distant sound of ducks quacking and going about their duck business. Kurt sort of likes the wet, mildew smell. The opposite of when he teleports.
“If by fate or accident, if this is the world in which we are friends and family?” Kurt hesitates, thinking. Resolve, and then a wave of protectiveness. Possessiveness? Precious adoration? Desperation? (Anger?) “Then that makes it all the more dear to me.”
Sometimes Kurt's emotions are overwhelming to Manuel. Too intense. Too sincere. Too focused on him. He braces himself silently as the tide comes in and lets everything wash over him. It would be easy to be swept away in it, but he knows better than that and holds fast. Instead, he remains quiet for a long moment before looking at his friend again and smirking dryly.
"You are so terribly sentimental," he points out, disregarding that his own admission had prompted that response in the first place. Still. The other man feels less uncertain that he had when they'd started and that's something.
"...Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"
“Me? Sentimental?” he asks, grinning at a duck preening itself instead of looking at Manny. Embarrassed, perhaps. “Where did you get that idea?” Kurt can laugh at himself, especially since Manny isn’t wrong. Even Kurt knows he is, occasionally, too much. But for now, his emotions finally settle down again, pulling back out to sea until they’re just surf lapping at the beach. The feelings still linger, but they’re quieter with each moment.
Kurt’s question is rhetorical, of course, while Manny’s isn’t. “You already answered most of them,” he admits. “Sometimes I forget how good you are at giving advice. You’re surprisingly wise when you want to be.”
Manuel's smirk widens at Kurt's denial but he doesn't respond otherwise. He doesn't need to. His friend may as well be claiming that the sky isn't blue. He focuses on the offered praise instead, lifting his chin and soaking it in contentedly.
"Nothing surprising about it," he quips back, clearly pleased with himself even if he knows they haven't actually accomplished anything. Apart from, perhaps, lifting each other's spirits a little. "But I'm glad you're finally taking notice."
“Sooner or later, your ego will grow so big that I won’t be able to fit in the same room as you,” Kurt complains, but he’s never that displeased to see Manny smiling. He makes Kurt think of a content snake sunning on a rock.
"And so?" Manuel inquires, seemingly unconcerned with this hypothetical problem or his friend's assessment of his ego. Having an ego is only a problem if it's undeserved and he's worked hard to be worthy of his.
Kurt shakes his head in defeat, as though he had put up much of a fight. “Hopefully you’re not too good for me to let me buy you that espresso?”
This meaningless victory only encourages Manuel and he places a hand briefly on Kurt's shoulder as they continue to walk. He gives it a squeeze, a teasing reassurance, before drawing his hand lightly down the other man's back and then dropping it to his side again.
"Claro que no," he returns easily, "I have earned it."
With his head rolled back so he can pretend to smile at the sky instead of the touch, Kurt lets Manny have another win. “I suppose that you have.”