27 years old freezing agent
citizen of the United States member of the X-Men
unmarried
Go backAnd somehow, Bobby at twenty-seven isn't much different from Bobby at twenty, or, if you believe his team-mates, Bobby at twelve, which is how old he was when he arrived at Charles Xavier's Westchester home, which eventually became the Xavier Institute. Perennially single and mischievous, he strikes me as a man assured of his place in the hearts of the household, willing at certain moments to tempt the patience of saints by virtue of that confidence. He has never apologized for dropping the temperature of my shower to something that would daunt a polar bear, and I have yet to forgive him.Youngest of the originals, and still not among the older group of X-Men, Bobby has become a watcher. His awareness of others' moods is staggering for a non-telepath, and he seems more attuned to those around him even than the team psis.
His friendship with Dr Henry McCoy is insular and not, apparently, much marked by those outside the basement laboratory. They were students at the same combined school on Long Island when their powers manifested, though Henry was a senior and Bobby was just entering junior high. I'm of the impression that something fairly serious happened to them both around that time, traumatic enough to push them out of suburban life, but neither of them wanted to tell me, and none of the other original X-Men knew.
Abstract, mathematical, and quietly dedicated to only non-lethal violence, Bobby has quietly become a kind of spirit of the house, caring for everyone who arrives with same casual friendliness. He's a collector of secrets, and sometimes careless with them, but there are a number of his own that I suspect I didn't reach.
Sinclair: What would you do if you left?
Bobby: I have no idea. I mean, I know -- the Accounting degree's useful enough -- but it's boring. I tried living like that and I couldn't. I guess I see this as too normal.
Sinclair: You don't strike me as an adrenaline junkie.
Bobby: Me? No way. Oh. What I meant was living on my own. I think if I'd stayed living with my parents it would've been easier to flee the nest. Only child, heavy parental supervision, Bobby gone. But I got to spend all of my teen years in a houseful of people who were more or less my own age, and who I liked, and there just got to be more and more people as we got older. And there were other teams that I was on, but it tended to be mostly like this. And I guess I must like it.
Sinclair: But you've never thought about, I don't know, marriage, two kids, house in the suburbs? You could.
Bobby: Stealth mutants, infiltrating your neighbourhoods as we speak. Making ice cubes out of the garden hose, replacing the local zamboni . . .
Sinclair: OK, not the suburbs, then. But marriage and kids?
Bobby: [laughs and rubs both hands over his face, stopping with his whole face covered. stares out for a few moments from between his fingers before dropping them.] I'll let Scott do that. Besides, if I left, who'd drag Hank out of the lab to go on midnight twinkie runs?
Sinclair: I don't even want to know, do I?
Bobby: No. . . . I like it here, honestly. I slack, I tease Scott so he can forget for a while that he's got a stick up his ass, I remind Hank to eat, I borrow Warren's credit cards so he won't choke on his own money, I make Jean mother me so she won't go mother Cable and bring the universe to a premature end, I make sure the kids have fun.
Sinclair: You're in danger of become a permanent bachelor uncle.
Bobby: There are worse fates.