Set Up: Johnny & Bobby
"Welcome to Life at Xavier's," Bobby said as he placed a large basket of flowers down on the table. Bobby wasn't good with the decorating bit. He just did as he was told. He stood next to Johnny, slipping his hands into his coat pockets, and took a deep breath. "It's only gotten worse since..." Well, since the world started becoming more aware that mutants were a thing that was real and not just fodder for The Sun; that batboy? Wasn't just Photoshop. He really did look like a bat and could send out sonic screeches. But that was neither here nor there. He tried not to look at the protestors. He could still hear the professor, even now, telling him something like: "Be still, Robert. We'll get them to understand us some day."
And now? Now here they were. At his memorial because someone had assassinated him. There were enough emotions firing in his head that he wasn't sure what to do with all. They were mixed in with his own personal bullshit. So, Bobby did what he always did: he plastered on a smile, slapped Johnny on the shoulder, and said: "Come on. I know where they're setting up the alcohol. So, let's have a drink and use this terrible opportunity to get you laid." Because lord knew Bobby Drake wasn't going to be picking up anyone at this shindig. Was it disrespectful? Maybe. Or maybe Bobby just needed to distract himself by getting a drink and pretending he was okay.
"They may be loud and obnoxious, but they're not starting a riot any time soon," he reassured him. "Most of them are aware that 'peaceful protest' stops at shouting angry obscenities." Not that the cops always did their job.