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Kyle simply shrugged, the subtle, relaxed grin on his face not wavering. The question was expected and he didn't bristle at it. She hadn't crossed any of the few lines he had when it came to his personal life and more often than not rarely spoke of himself unless someone asked. It was a reasonable inquiry, of course. He was in his mid-30's, after all, and was apparently single with no talk of kids or even a family in his hometown. "Of course." The answer came without hesitation. "Woobie. Sammie. Ruger." He gestured at each of his loved ones in turn.
Naturally even Kyle didn't believe his simple reply would suffice. She'd asked a legitimate question and, given that they were on a date of sorts, she deserved a reasonable answer. "Mom and dad back home in San Jose." He said with a bit of a nod. "Few siblings floating around." A warm smile touched Kyle's features as Woobie, seemingly aware of the exchange between the two humans had slowed his pace to walk beside his owner, looking up at him with affectionate eyes. "No kids." Kyle felt the need to mention, since they were on the subject. He paused a moment to glance down to Woobie and pat the dog's muzzle lovingly. "But, uh, three ex-wives." The last revelation came almost sheepishly as he offered another shrug, his eyes shifting to glance at Clarke and gauge her reaction. Giving her time to do so before predictably turning the tables.
It hadn't been difficult for Kyle to notice Clarke's introversion. In many ways that had been what drew him to her the most. To say he'd interacted with far more 'forward' women in his time would be a hell of an understatement and after his third divorce maybe someone with a bit more of a thoughtful approach to socializing would do him well. And that she'd bonded well with his canine friends so quickly was definitely a bonus.
Now, if only they could have continued talking about her and left his own background out of the conversation Kyle'd be just fine.
A bit of a shrug followed Clarke's inquiry. It wasn't a shrug that meant the story was simple or boring, rather it was a gesture offered to simply buy a little time as he figured out the best way to go about explaining it. "After I got out of the Army I was looking for something to do and a buddy of mine mentioned an open position at Bellefonte." Kyle said, giving an almost laughably simple account of his exit from the military as well as his true intentions that had led him to the Academy. "There wasn't much keeping me in Georgia so I thought, why not?"
Kyle didn't seem to mind taking a back seat to his canine companions, in fact, it suited him just fine. The trio of dogs had become his family so he felt it fitting they got more of the redhead's attention. After all, they usually got most of his attention so it was only fair. Anyway, it eased any worry he may have had about whether the obviously out of her element Clarke would enjoy the impromptu hike.
"Dream job, huh?" Kyle replied with a faint nod of his head. He wasn't quite sure what, if anything, he would qualify as such but the weight of the comment wasn't lost on him. "Guess you can't go wrong with that." Though there was something she said that caught his attention. He glanced in her direction, in no small part to admire the sweat on her brow before she wiped it off. He would hardly deny he thought it was a good look on her. "Is no one knowing what you look like a... good thing" He questioned curiously, turning his focus back to the black lab who was still trotting a few paces in front of them.
The single, sternly spoken word caused the black lab to halt in its tracks and promptly plop down on its haunches. Deep, brown eyes turned affectionately toward their owner, watching as the tall, tattooed man moved along the hiking path. "If you're good," Kyle said, reaching down to pat the obedient animal on the head once he was within arm's reach, "I'll let you chase a squirrel on the way back." Almost as if he understood, Woobie stood up and trotted alongside his owner as he passed, tongue hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth.
The erratic early spring weather had, thankfully, been clear and sunny, if not a bit on the cool side. As the sun had reached its zenith the light breeze settled, allowing the bright rays to warm the hiking trail Kyle and Clarke had been traversing along with Kyle's trio of canine companions. The aforementioned black lab, Woobie, was the unquestioned leader of the group and elder statesman. He trotted ahead a few paces keeping tabs on the terrain ahead while casting the occasional glances behind him to ensure everyone was keeping close by. Ruger, the stoic German Shepard, remained close by Kyle's side, never daring to venture more than a few feet from him throughout the entire trip which had, up to now had spanned more than a couple miles of hilly trail. The last of Kyle's travelling companions was by far the youngest and most curious. The black and white border collie known affectionately as Sammy seemed to be far more interested in the redheaded companion accompanying them. He trotted alongside her, stealing a quick sniff of her hand as it swung by his snout and keeping his bright, blue eyes locked upon her.
"Okay." Kyle began, his eyes shifting to shoot a short glance at Clarke partially to take stock of her status. It wasn't terribly hot but the hiking trail he'd chosen for their excursion certainly wasn't the type that had public restrooms and gift shops lining the path. It was isolated, to say the least, something Kyle appreciated, and slowly rose up to the hills overlooking the Pacific Ocean. "You're gonna have to tell me how you became a fuckin' DJ." There was no judgement in Kyle's tone, despite his language. His genuine curiosity on the subject was easy to pick out. "'Cause that just seems like the most random job ever."
"Yeah." Kyle said with a hint of affection creeping into his nearly ever present smile when the conversation shifted to the dog. "She's been with me for the last ten years." He turned in his seat, reaching back to give the dog a one armed hug and to ruffle her ears. Kyle's brows furrowed, though, as the young man spouted facts about the dog's breed like he was reading directly from Wikipedia. Kyle, being the obvious scholar that he was, hadn't a clue about any of that. All he knew was his dog had been the only constant in his life over the past decade.
A nod followed the question. "She has." Kyle confirmed as he started the truck. "She has a habit for finding mud pits when we go hiking." A light chuckle escaped at the image of his canine companion happily wallowing around in various puddles. "You have a dog or any pet back home?"
A single brow rose at what Kyle was certainly assuming to be a challenge. He studied the young yoga instructor for a moment, that ever present, goofy half-smirk still on his lips. Something she hadn't heard before? Just the mere thought of someone saying that to him of all people was humorous, to say the least. Of course he couldn't expect her to know what sort of can of worms she was opening by issuing such a blatant challenge.
"So, uh." That brow twitched a bit, giving off the perfect mock Lothario expression. "Ever taken a trip up the coast with a truck full of guns and dogs?"
Kyle waved a hand, not dismissing the young man, rather any possible weight his reply may have carried. Kyle didn't mind. His role wasn't to get the kids to talk rather set them at ease and help them transition to their new life as a student of Bellefonte and a mutant. He figured if they felt the need to talk they would in due time. Otherwise, who was he to judge? "Alright." He accepted the reply with a shrug before turning his attention back to the truck. "Hop in." He said, gesturing toward nothing in particular. "Let's get something to eat."
Rounding the vehicle, Kyle pulled open the driver's side door. "Woobie." He spoke sternly. "Chill." The curt order caused the black and white border collie who was waiting patiently in the back seat for Kyle's return to promptly sit back on its haunches
The office door had barely swung shut behind him before Kyle was heading down the hall. He would never say it to someone he just met, let alone a student, but he was hungover (as usual) and hungry. The opportunity to get off campus and keep the meeting casual and relaxing was just a bonus. He quickly strode through the halls and pushed his way outside into the cool, midday air. He paused a moment, glanced up at the sun doing its best to squeeze through the cloud cover, then slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. With a brief look over his shoulder to make sure he was still being followed Kyle started for the Academy parking lot.
"Anyway." He continued as he moved across campus. "You've got enough shit going on with moving, being what we are and all that." Kyle fished a set of car keys from his pocket as he walked. "So I don't want you to think of our meetings as 'therapy sessions'." The title escaped his lips as if it were a taboo, four letter word. He then gave a bit of a contemptuous snort. "Because I ain't no therapist. Instead I'm just here to give you a place to talk, hang out, whatever you need."
Kyle pressed a button on the remote hanging from the car keys causing the lights of a large black truck sitting nearby to flash. He paused, furrowed his brow then turned toward his newest charge, looking to the young man curiously. "You don't talk a lot, do you?" He said, his words coming out in sort of a half question, half statement.
Kyle strode easily back to his desk and reclaimed his seat behind it. He entire demeanor was light and relaxed despite the formality of the meeting. It looked more like he was greeting an old friend than beginning an evaluation or whatever it was people in his position were supposed to do. The feet didn't come back up onto the desk, though Kyle's elbows did, leaning forward he made eye contact with Rowan briefly, giving the young man his full attention.
"Alright." Kyle said after just a moment of studying his newest charge. He leaned back in the chair, clasping his hands together in his lap. "Here's the deal. We both know why you're here so I'm not going to insult your intelligence by spouting you some random, canned bullshit." Kyle always found treating these kids like equals and outlining his methods from the beginning to be beneficial and Rowan was no exception. "I got a copy of your file." Kyle paused and furrowed his brow. "Somewhere." He glanced over the near empty room before shaking his head and returning to his speech. "Anyway, I don't put a lot of stock in those. My job isn't to poke around and find what makes you tick, I'm not here to tell you you're wrong or tell you what you should be doing." He shrugged his broad shoulders. To him this was all painfully simple. Why some of his peers tried to make this role far more analytical than it really should be Kyle would never know. "What's going to happen is whenever we meet, or anytime you want, I'll give you my number, we're going to talk. We're going to get to know each other and that's it. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."
Kyle gave another moment's pause, just long enough for his spiel to sink before abruptly getting to his feet. "And I fucking hate offices so we're getting the hell out of here." He rounded the desk like it was a wasp nest, something to be avoided at all costs, and pulled open the door to the hallway. "First order of business. I need to get something to eat 'cause this hangover is killing me."
The large man didn't stir even as his office door opened. He just sat there, feet propped up on the desk, arms folded across his chest, head bowed, eyes covered by a pair of dark sunglasses. He was, apparently, adept at sleeping anywhere and showing off this talent in spades. Only when the soft cough broke the silence of the office did Kyle move. He snapped awake, pushing away from his desk and dropping his feet to the floor with an audible *thunk*. He blinked a few times, wondering why his vision was so shrouded before remembering to remove his sunglasses to remedy the issue. Once free from the room-darkening menaces, Kyle turned his attention to the source of his sleep disturbance, studying the boy with narrowed, yet curious eyes.
Then it dawned on Kyle the reason he was at the Academy in the first place was for an appointment.
Immediately the cobwebs of sleep lifted and Kyle's face lit up. He got to his feet and crossed the room toward Rowan, offering a hand. "Rowan, right?" He asked even though he already knew the answer. He'd skimmed through the file folder given to him before the boy's arrival, at least enough to remember the name and face. "Come in, sit down."
Among his peers Kyle Foster was somewhat of an enigma. He lacked much of the formal education as most of the teachers and other specialized staff members and carried himself with about as much professionalism as a college drop out who spends his days smoking weed and playing video games. Sneakers and t-shirts were his attire of choice every so often his speech would shift into a strange, profanity and acronym laden language few understood but many were offended by. This was all to say nothing of his unorthodox methods. Rarely did he spend much time on campus and there was some debate whether or not he actually knew where his office was in the first place, let alone made use of it. And yet, through it all, he regularly scored high on performance evaluations and never seemed to get in trouble. A fact that made him a divisive figure among the few who bothered getting to know him.
Mid-morning found one 'Mister Foster' in the office in question, though from the looks of it the space seemed largely unused. The desk was empty, save for the sneakered feet propped up against them, the computer hadn't been turned on and the keys to the filing cabinet in the corner were still hanging in a small plastic baggie clipped to one of the handles. There were no pictures or degrees on the walls and not even a nameplate sitting on the desk. The only evidence that the office was occupied, aside from the well muscled, tattooed individual sound asleep behind the desk, was the name 'Kyle Foster' printed on the outside of the door above the words 'Integration Counselor'.
It was safe to say Kyle was okay with how the brief conversation had gone so far. He'd already learned some very interesting bits of information about Alice. Information that was beginning to pain a very... curious picture about the brunette. So while, yes, he responded to the discovery of Alice's side job with interest and curiosity, she wasn't the first dancer he'd ever met. Just the first who agreed to go day drinking with him before teaching a yoga class.
"I guess it's a good thing I have a very active imagination." He mused with a smirk of his own playing on his lips. Kyle took down the rest of his drink with ease and gestured to the bartender for another. "Because I was thinking of a... different sort of exchange." Eyebrows then waggled in an almost cartoonish way at that.
It didn't matter that she so obviously abhorred his drink of choice (she still choked it down anyway) or that she looked at him like he was growing a third arm out of his forehead when he asked the somewhat normal question. She was a dancer? That was something he hadn't expected though it could readily be considered a pleasant surprise. His interest in the much younger woman had suddenly grown tenfold.
"So you're... flexible and know how to move." Kyle mused with a smirk that was less than innocent. He may have drifted into 'normal' territory for just a moment but it wasn't as if he could resist making a comment on that bit of news Alice had just divulged. "I'm impressed. What would I have to do to sign up for private lessons sometime?"
Kyle couldn't help but nod. It was true. If there weren't those who lived with a bit of reckless abandon the world would be a lot more boring than it already was. A pair of glasses were set on the bar in front of them prompting Kyle to slide hand over his credit card to open a tab with. He scooped up his glass and raised it to Alice. "I'll drink to that." He proclaimed with a chuckle. Though, truth be told he really didn't need much of an excuse to drink, it just helped to have one.
He took a drink, feeling the warmth of the whiskey as it went down. He glanced at the auburn liquid in his glass before his eyes slid to the side, taking in Alice's reaction to the hard liquor. The time for jokes and flippant remarks was reaching its end. Eventually those grew old and started to annoy even Kyle. "Alright." Kyle said curtly, sitting up a bit as he took another drink from his glass, though he made a mental note to not go so fast with it. Whiskey could sneak up on even the more experienced of drinkers and it was far too early in the day to drunkenly stumble home. "How do you end up teaching yoga? You a personal trainer on the side or something?"
A little know fact about Kyle was that he wasn't, by any means, a charismatic guy, at least not consciously so. The ease in which he interacted with people and the world around him as a whole didn't stem from an innate comfort or natural aptitude for making people like him rather it came from one, simple source: Kyle had just seen so much shit in his life he had lost all capacity to care much about what anyone thought of him. By the same token he'd overcome so much he lacked any sense of ego. It wasn't as if he had anything to prove to anyone. If he truly wanted to get into a dick swinging competition he'd just dust off the medals and ribbons he kept stuffed in a box in his closet.
"Bar." He replied without hesitation. He never saw the point of sitting anywhere else when in a place like this. He didn't wait for a response, rather he made a beeline for a barstool and took up residence like he was paying rent. The bartender, by default, made his way toward them. Kyle raised two fingers. "Jameson on the rocks." He said. "Two." He exchanged nods with the bartender who immediately went to fulfill the order. "You know." Kyle said, turning his attention to the snarky woman nearby. "I didn't expect you to go along with this so easily." He admitted. "The last yoga instructor I asked out wasn't nearly this laid back." He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "She just yelled at me, mumbling something about being married or some shit."
