noteful | Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

It's a pretty low-key party, all things considered, and not significantly different than the one Parker or Meg would have thrown in a dorm room for a friend at home, not-exactly-traditional menu not withstanding.

There's music, low enough to talk over (and maybe with a little more folk in the mix than one expects to find a party). Balloons and streamers in purple and blue and red. A place to leave presents. People to meet or catch up with.

And, most importantly, a chance to wish X-23 (or Laura) a very happy birthday.

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He is trying to be more considerate that way.

"Nor do I," Castiel admits.

"But it is what is said at these celebrations."

Castiel looks out of the the party, hands held comfortably behind his back.

"It is meant to convey good wishes."

"Oh."

She absorbs that, gaze drifting to follow his.

"Thank you."

Beat.

"But I am okay."

Castiel leaves off looking out over the party, looking over at X instead.

"You are enjoying your party?"

"It is interesting," X says.

"I like the music."

Enjoying something is not a concept X is very familiar with.

"You are okay? Here?"

Castiel nods.

"I am okay."

"I have little experience with this kind of setting," he admits.

"I do not, either," X says.

Carefully.

"It is okay."

And, perhaps even more carefully, she pats his arm.

Once.

(Reaching for his shoulder is awkward. X is not that tall.)

Castiel looks down at her hand.

A little bemused. But not offended.

And after a moment, returns the gesture. Patting X on her shoulder.

It's a much easier reach for him.

"People seem to be having a good time," he observes.

X flicks another glance into the room at large.

And then, a little hesitantly--

"You cannot tell?"

He said 'seem'.

She is a little confused.

Castiel shrugs slightly.

"They look happy. They have gathered to celebrate a happy occasion."

He looks back at X.

"But I am not omniscient."

X tilts her head a little.

"I know."

Beat.

"Scent is useful, too."

You know. In case he was wondering.

Castiel gives her a sidelong look.

"Your sense of smell is superior to mine."

"Mine is only as good as that of the vessel that I inhabit."

But that's alright. He has other senses that make up for it.

"Your vessel is not a mutant."

Beat.

"It is okay."

Not everyone can have an X-gene.

Or be able to track people using only a scrap of clothing as a starting point.

"No. He is not."

Castiel thinks.

"At least not that I am aware of."

If he is, he is not the sort that can sniff out individual people.

X tilts her head, leaning forward a little.

"You do not smell right. For that."

Beat.

"Most people know. You do not get angry? Or upset?"

That tends to be a trigger for a lot of people.

Castiel surreptitiously sniffs.

He still can't smell anything. Except the garlic in the bread and the pasta sauce, wafting from the buffet table.

"Why would I get angry? Or upset?" he asks.

"Sometimes people do," she says.

Carefully.

"They lose control. Of their power."

Castiel turns this over, eyebrows drawn together, thinking.

"You feel that I should be upset if my vessel were a mutant?" he asks carefully.

"It would not matter to me," he adds.

"No. But it is how people know. That they are a mutant."

"Your vessel has already undergone puberty."

"Some time ago, yes."

Castiel smiles wryly.

"The last time I walked Earth in a vessel, this man would already be considered quite old."

"Oh."

X considers this.

"Logan is very old, too."

"How old is Logan?"

Older than X. That is all Castiel knows.

"He is more than one hundred."

Beat.

"I do not know how much."

And X is just like him.

"Very old for a mortal," Castiel observed.

"That is because he is a mutant?"

"Because of his healing factor."

Beat.

"Like mine."

"Then you will likely live to be quite old as well."

He looks at X curiously.

"That is a good thing?"

Most people like to postpone their mortality as long as possible.

Most people.

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