ikissdhimbck | OOM: Down in the East Texas Town of Galveston... -- 1888 -- for X-23

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OOM: Down in the East Texas Town of Galveston... -- 1888 -- for X-23

Kate's door opens out into her hotel room. It's nice — real nice, to be honest. Four poster bed, basin, writing desk, carved oak bureau and vanity. Empire draperies in rich reds and golds; pristine horsehair plaster walls.

"C'mon in."

Kate sets her things down on the bed, and turns to Miss X. Standing akimbo, she grins.

"Shall we see what the Miss picked out?"

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"Oh-ho, surely, Little Miss! Just take a gander here."

He motions to the drawings and blueprints for the modern velocipede, the boiler replaced with a real engine. It's thicker than what they have on the showroom floor, sturdier, and that engine is heavier.

"You can ride both of these gals just fine, miss, but if you're hopin' for speed then you're not gonna want to be weighted down, now are you?"

X leans over to better view the blueprints, frowning a little as she looks them over.

But at last --

"No. That is accurate."

Beat.

"I like maneuverability."

"And maneuverability you'll get! She's smaller'n a horse, and less stubborn."

A few people in the audience chuckle.

"Best thing is, you ain't gotta feed her an' you ain't gotta stable her, and if she breaks, you can fix her!"

Kate's mingling with the crowd a few paces off. She wouldn't toss over one of her animals for that thing if she were paid to do it, but she hasn't quite made the leap into the future of the 19th century just yet.

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

"I like taking care of animals, too."

This is true.

"But repair on mechanical equipment is easier."

You know. For people without access to magical healers. And mutants.

It's a curious statement for a young woman to make, thus eliciting a response from the gentleman customer who had been engaging the barker's time prior to X.

"Woman after my own heart."

He looks enchanted.

Kate knew she'd fit in just fine. Still, she doesn't want her to fit in too well. That is to say, the gentleman is getting the stink-eye.

"Miss Talbot?"

She nods to the next booth, if X is finished here.

X appears oblivious to the gentleman's enchantment.

There are multiple reasons for that.

Her head turns, gaze flicking toward Kate as the other woman says her (assumed) name.

"We can go. Now."

Then she turns back to the man with the velocipede.

"Thank you."

Okay, now they can really go.

The men all tip their hats and grin.

They keep on grinning, long after X has turned away.

Kate smirks, offering her the taffy as they walk past a cotton gin and a 'dish washer', pausing at the booth where they're selling bottles of root beer for two cents.

"I'm guessin' y'have a vehicle like that in your world, only better?"

Such is often the case.

She gestures to the bottles of soda, silently asking if X would like one.

"It is lighter," X allows, nodding once.

"And it is yellow."

She flicks a look toward the soda bottles, nostrils flaring as she catches the scent of root beer.

Does she smile?

Maybe. At the very least she nods.

"You could see it. Sometime. If you want."

"Yellow? Honestly?"

Kate smiles brightly, exchanging coin with the vendor for a couple of sodas. They're warm, but they're tasty.

"Such a lovely color. I'd like t'see it sometime. I've really only seen automobiles from the future up close. An' aeroplanes, but they was in a museum. Never been up in one."

"I could teach you," X offers, as she reaches over to take her soda.

"To drive it. If you want."

You know.

When they are no longer in Texas.

Her eyes widen.

"Really? How different is it from an automobile?"

Oh, she certainly would like that. Very much.

"It is simpler," X offers, after thinking it over for a few moments.

"Except that it requires balance."

Kate grins.

"Balance I got aplenty. I ain't too bad drivin' a 'motor', so — sure! Why not."

Someday, she'll have a license to drive every contraption known to man and then some. Someday.

She continues along the exhibition hall at a leisurely pace, giving X plenty of time to spy booths or demonstrations she might be particularly interested in. All manner of folk pass by as they mosey along, heading nearer the coastline where more of the games are set up.

"Here I've got you out in Texas, an' we ain't even ridin' horses. Y'must think those ridin' lessons were a waste of time."

"No," X says promptly, looking a little startled.

"I do not think that."

Beat.

"We could do that? Here. Later."

If Kate wants.

X would not say no!

Her eyebrows brush her hairline.

"I was teasin'."

She bumps X's shoulder, and takes another swig of root beer.

"Sure. I know a horse y'could borrow. We could take a ride up Main Street."

There's a Colt shooting gallery to their right, with a line of eager young men waiting to try their luck. A little ways further, a strongman game sports a similar line, but there's a girl of about eleven holding the hammer while her older brothers snicker beside her. And beyond that, accompanied by the sound of an accordion, turns a merry-go-round.

Kate nods toward it.

"Or we could always ride that."

X's gaze flicks immediately toward what Kate is gesturing at, head tilting as she studies the ride.

"You like them?"

Beat.

"I have seen one. Before. But we did not -- use it."

If 'use' is the right word.

"I do not know why."

"I've only seen one once before, at a fair my daddy took me to when I was young. Never been on one."

It's an elegant contraption at every angle: trimmings in gold and ivory, finely carved; a colorfully painted polyptych at its crown; gold leaf etched horses, baskets, and poles of every color merrily circling its base. It's drawn a sizable number of children and couples, women riding sidesaddle with their gloved hands clutching their hats while their beaus stand by and smile.

(Behind them, the bell dings on the strongman game to the delighted crowing of the young girl.)

"I think they're beautiful, though."

X flicks a quick glance at Kate, then --

"We can try."

Beat.

"The children like it."

And X is often for many things that children like. Blame her Little League team.

Kate grins.

"If there's one thing I learned from teachin', it's t'follow the children's lead."

Maypoles, lake swimming, and hide-and-go-seek are just a few of the thrills one learns from being surrounded by the young.

"All right, let's go."

She slips among the onlookers, drinking down the last of her root beer while they wait for the ride to stop.

X does not grin, but she relaxes a little as she follows Kate toward the ride.

Her root beer is already gone.

What?

No judgment here.

The music is lively, and most of the riders disembark, though some remain for a second turn. Kate offers X a hand up.

There's a wide variety of wooden steeds to choose from.

The only unfortunate thing about the merry-go-round is that it grabs attention. A handful of gentleman happen to notice Miss Laura Talbot, and her companion, Katherine James.

"Hey, those're the women from the barroom!"

"Those li'l cotton pickers!"

"Sh-yit, you're right."

"I have half'a mind t'string 'em up by their pigs for the money they cost me."

"Someone oughta teach 'em a lesson, damn tootin'."

"You watch that duck fit of your'n, Henry, you'll get yourself in trouble."

"Then why don't y'run along home? This is a matter'a pride."

Three cowpokes, just brimming with pride, advance on the merry-go-round.

It is too bad for these cowpokes that they do not know Laura Talbot's hearing is superhuman.

She leans toward Kate, one hand holding on to the neck of her elephant.

"There are people. Men. From the bar."

Beat.

"They are looking for us."

This is Kate's world. She gets to decide how they handle things.

X does not want to get her in trouble.

Astride the back of her mighty chestnut steed, only just now laughing into the wind as they ride, hellbent for leather, Kate turns at her friend's prompting.

Men from the bar? She feels a quick stab of panic, thinking X means Milliways.

But, how—?

That's when she sees one of the cardsharps hauling himself up onto the carousel mid-rotation, the other two at his heels. She snaps her attention back to X.

"They don't look too happy 'bout what happened. How invested are you in finishin' our ride?"

"I would rather stop them," X allows, gaze already flicking over the crowd on the carousel, looking for a useful path of egress.

Maybe one that takes her nearest to the cardsharps.

Hush.

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