2010-01-30: a fugue on fitting in


Dallas_icon.jpg Owen_icon.jpg Jono_icon.jpg Mike_icon.jpg Mikhail_icon.jpg

Summary: Summary of what happened.

Date: January 30, 2010

Log Title a fugue on fitting in

Rating: PG

Xavier Mansion - Recreation Room

What was once the Parlor has been turned into a Recreation Room for the students. A nice plush carpet meets the light blue walls giving it a homey feel. A pool table at one end, a foos ball table at the other, and entertainment center with video game systems, movies, and of course, cable TV. Big comfy chairs and couches surround a coffee table for comfortable loafing. Long glass windows with a pair of French doors line one side of the room bringing in plenty of light during the day. The main rule in here is to clean up after yourself.

Mid-morning on a Saturday and for once, Dallas has nothing to do. Given Jericho's comments about cutting back to three weight sessions a week, he has a morning 'off' and is caught up on his school work. He even got a good night's sleep last night, with a month's worth of three and hour hour nights conspiring to help him sleep through the ruckus downstairs. He's currently wearing jeans, sneakers and an Xavier's t-shirt tight enough to show a few self-applied bandages under it and sitting on the couch watching an ESPN2 rebroadcast of a classic basketball game. Sports, a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of juice and a whole afternoon waiting to be wasted.

Released from the medbay as he just needed the rest and the standard post-transformation physical, Owen Folger appears in the Rec Room in a cloud of DarkForce. He's in jeans and an Xavier school hoodie, hood pulled up and face hidden by DarkForce so it just look like glowing green eyes peering out from under the hood. Ooh spooky. After a moment of looking around, Owen lowers his hood to reveal his currently fuzzy face and forces a smile. "Howdy," he greets dully, moving to sit next to Dallas and slump into the couch.

Meandering in without paying much attention to where he's going, Jonothon's attention is on the phone he's got in his hands. Texting of all things. It's certainly not school issue, but one with a full keyboard and a lot of nice options. There's a glance to the pair of you as he flops down into a chair and stretches his legs out. Just a hand lifted in greeting before he resumes his reply. The jacket he normally wears is missing, but a couple layered tshirts seems to make up for it.

Dallas nudges the bowl of popcorn over to where Owen can get at it and nods, giving him a sideways glance and then looking back at the TV. "Hey. Heard you had a rough night." Understatement and sympathy, adolescent male style. He gives Jono a 'yo' nod as well and a faint grin at the texting. Old people and social trends. It's cute. He stretches out a bit and settles down to watch, knowing that if Owen wants to talk he'll talk and if he doesn't pestering him will just be annoying.

Owen glances down at the popcorn and snags a few pieces. "Yeah…the transformations always hurt like hell," he says softly. "Night was rougher on Jared, that metal fella, an' that girl with the glowin' bowlin' balls," he added. Owen had trouble with names sometimes. When Jono walks into the room, Owen raises a hand. "Howdy," he offers before going quiet. He stays that way for a long while then sighs and glances at Dallas. "Ah'm jus' glad they stopped it before it got out…or did worse. Ah feel like crap for what it did tah Jared…"

The yo is better than some greeting he's gotten here, so Jonothon pays little mind to it. It's not a matter of social trends, but the simple fact that he can't use the phone. No voice by which to speak through it. Leaves texting as the only option. As Owen speaks of transformations and Rashmi, it earns the man's attention. He's between messages anyway, and looks over. Doesn't speak immediately, but it makes two and two equal four in his head. «What do you transform into?» And with that darkness field, can it be seen? Curious mostly! Phone resting on his chest, he slouches down deep in his seat.

Dallas takes a sip of his juice and says, "Mike and Rashmi." The descriptions make it pretty obvious. He looks sideways, "Anybody seriously down or just another day at Mutant High and night in the Med Bay?" He grins faintly at the question from Jono. Even the /adults/ can't get away from the most popular question at Mutant High: What do /you/ do? He pretends to watch his game while actually focusing his attention on the two of them.

Owen snags another pieces of popcorn. "Dented Mike up bad and Rashmi got some bruises and scratches," he explains. "Jared got a chunk taken' outta his shoulder…an'," he looks down. "If it had been anyone but him that got caught they woulda died…" he trails off. He's blaming himself for the Bat again. Typical. Jono's question startles Owen and he jumps. Glowing eyes focus on the man and moment and then the young man they belong to sighs. "Giant, homocidal bat monster that tries tah suck the lifeforce out of anyone it can get it's teeth intah."

Speak of the Robot Devil… Mike has come to the rec room. The Shiar machine has done its miracle of mechanical medicine and the dents are gone, his paint is pristine again, and his voice, such as it is, has been restored. How it worked? Too gruesome to describe, and anyway Doctor Reyes pulled the privacy curtain around when she entered the override code into the medbay bed.
The autobot student (or is it decepticon?) has returned to try to play the game he downloaded a few days ago, and the rec room is full again. Darnit. He stops, remaining standing just inside the door.

Jonothon can only shrug at Dallas, «First I've heard about it really.» He just saw the foyer. A giant what? «Heh.» That's all he says, not sounding at all worried about it. Not that he has a lifeforce to steal. «You need help, let me know.» The offer is given to anyone really. «Jonothon Starsmore, by the way.» Mike's entry distracts and Jono cranes his head around. «Hey, mate.» Lifting a hand. The phone on his chest beeps quietly, and has him looking at it. Of course knowing about Mike means Mike gets a voice.

Dallas shrugs at Owen and says plainly, "Dude. The bar has /so/ been raised in terms of what it takes to be a bad guy around here." He looks sideways at Owen with a frank expression on his face and says, "Is anybody dead or scarred for life? No? Take the win." Well, /that's/ a healthy attitude for a sixteen year old. When Mike enters he gets another greeting nod and a "Hey Mike." When Jono 'speaks' Dallas gives him a thoughtful look. Jono's getting a reputation for being actually accessible and approachable amongst the students and that offer seems to be consistent with that assessment. Not that /he/ needs anybody to talk to or anything. But it might be good to point others Jono's way.

Owen worries his lip with a fang. "Is it really all that different though, Dallas?" he asked. "Ah can' control the thin'…it's dangerous. Hell, if it didn' get stopped last night it'd probably be down in the city makin' thin's worst right now," he sighs. "Not that Ah know of," he answers Dallas' question and slumps again. "Thanks," he tells Jono. "An' Ah'm Owen Folger,' he adds. Looking over his shoulder, Owen teses at the sight of Mike. "Howdy…"

«Dallas is right.» Jonothon agrees for the most part. «This school's all about mucking it up so that you learn better. Hell, you only trashed the foyer.» He waves a finger in a 'big woop' kind of gesture. No big deal. Some people were hurt, but that happens every day too. The man doesn't mention how he once destroyed part of a building for getting a kiss on the cheek by a pretty girl. Powers happen.

A grateful telepathic 'voice' is heard, apparently Mike's, teenage tenor starting to shade to baritone. "Thanks Jono. You're made of 100% pure awesomeite. Hey, Dallas. Takin' a rest day? About time, you were looking really overtrained… Hey fuzzy guy. Sorry I didn't introduce myself last night, but I was kinda busy with stuff. Does that happen often with the biting and the throwing people and the darkforce blasting?"
Oh yeah Mike's got voice again.

Mikhail is heading to the rec room in the hope that there will be some people there to study, hes dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans with ripped knees, for once this is for fashon purposes, a blue t-shirt, red sneakers, a black and yellow checkered emo scarf and is even wearing socks and boxershorts, the waistband is just above the top of his jeans, hes even got headphones around his neck connected to and ipod and has cut his hair which is now dyed blond (his research fron the TV has shown that people respond well to blonds) and is wearing sunglasses. When he enters the room he notices that the other people in the room are in a conforsation, and apparently its rude to interupt a conforsation, so he just stands by the door and waits for them to finish.

Dallas nods to Owen. "Yea. It's that different. Thinking isn't the same as doing. And if things were different, they'd be different. They aren't. You aren't down there raising hell. And nobody's permanently hurt. So, you know, deal. Doesn't mean you have to pretend things are rainbows and kittens or that you don't have to be careful, but you shouldn't assume guilt before you've earned it." He pauses and adds in a mock thoughtful tone, "And besides, we could have t-shirts printed up. 'I was mauled by Batboy and all I got was a night in Med Bay and this t-shirt'." He's obviously trying to lighten things up and he nods at Jono's statement. "There's a difference between screwing up with powers and being evil." Mike's words get lowered eyebrows and then Dallas tries to take that in the spirit it was offered. He shrugs. "Yea, working out is how I relax. But you know, overdoing it." He literally doesn't recognize Mikhail seeing him from the corner of his eye and doesn't speak yet.

Owen takes a deep breath and nods. "Alright then," he says. It's still going to bother him for a long while. Until he gets control of it anyway. Dallas' joke gets a face before Owen reaches over to try giving him a playful punch to the arm. "Dude," he says. He then looks back to Mike and takes a deep breath. "Ah'm sorry about last night," he says. He'll have similar for Jared and Rashmi. "Every two weeks like clockwork unless somene with Livin' Light helps me out," he says. Mikhail gets an odd look when he appears. Owen doesn't recognize him but ha the od feeling he should. "Howdy."

You know, Dallas says it damn near perfectly, for once, so Jonothon doesn't add anything immediately. And a casual wave at his awesomeness. No, he focuses in on replying to a text mail. Considering how long he's working at it, he's certainly not twittering. Once he's done he looks to Owen. «Ever tried to let it out?» Asked as the phone is placed on black-clad chest again. Jono's lower face is covered in a black material, and it doesn't move as he speaks. «In controlled conditions. Like the danger room. If you know about when, we could work with that.» Let it loose somewhere no one will get hurt.

Mike realizes that he's come in on another Deep Conversation and hearing reasonable words from Dallas … well, mostly reasonable … Why can't the world be easier?
He glances at the new kid who just came in and WTF. Robyn and Richard, sure. That's unlikely but believable. Skyler and Dallas or anyone else? Sure, that's inevitable. But Mikhail having a blond twin? Just too much to believe.
A distracted mental voice, "Not a problem Owen, you weren't quite yourself," and he finally blurts, "Mikhail? Is that you?"

Mikhail nods and says in the New York accent hes been pracising, "Heya Owen" and in reaspone to Mike, "Yeah Mike, I'm Mikhail, you've spoken to me before remember?", whats going on, hes just looking normal, why doesn't Mike recognise him, they only spoke the other day.

Dallas just answers Owen with a wide grin at that punch, apparently on firm and comfortable social grounds with /that/ kind of interaction. "You hit like a big, fuzzy girl." It's a mild taunt but more amusement than he's let himself have in, well, a while. That question from Jono gets arched eyebrows. He'd never even imagined that. Scary thought. One's monsters should stay caged. He looks back to Mike when he mentioned Mikhail's name and then gives the new blond kid a closer look. And a blink at the accent. "Mik? Dude! What did you do?"

"Mah arms still hurt. Ya'll try havin' giant wing burst outta yours an' then get sucked back in and see how hard ya punch," Owen counters moving to try grabbing Dallas into a headlock for a noogie. "Ah tried once…didn' go so well. Addison an' Ah were plannin' an experiment but thin's keep comin' up for the both of us," vague gesture. "Are ya alright then, Mike?" he asks, looking him over for dents. "Well damn. Ya'll clean up nice an' hot there, Mik."

Who? Jonothon cranes his head around again and eyes the blond Mikhail. Huh. Didn't notice him there in the doorway, if only for poor visibility. Dyed hair little interests the man though and he returns his attention to Owen. Monsters shouldn't remain hidden if letting them loose once and a while allows you to learn how to control the shift. It seems Addison had a good idea. «Well, I've more free time than Addison, so let's try. You can't learn to control it if you don't get a feel for it. The danger room is the best place.» A shrug after that and he leaves it there. Owen doesn't want to, no skin off his nose.

Mike has seen Mikhail doing some odd stuff lately, and figured it for pranking, which is a practice and tradition he deeply respects and honors. (And it's part of why he has been in trouble at some point at every school he's been to.)
But this is a MAKEOVER, like Mikhail has been gang-critiqued by How Do I Look, What Not To Wear, and Queer Eye for the Emo Guy. But … it works for him. Then again he's got the mutant 'hotness' gene (as Jason back home called it) so almost anything would work.
Mike answers Mikhail first, "You changed your look quite a bit, Mikhail, it's just unexpected."
He tears his eyes away, well, figuratively, and looks over to Owen. "I'm fine, fuzzy guy. I'll send you my shop bill." Even though Mike's not smiling any more than his usual Robot Mona Lisa smirk, there's a definite evil grin behind that line.

Mikhail shrugs, "Felt like a change i guess", in answer to Dallas' question, hes confused by Owen's statment, hes seen the word hot used in several different ways, but he cant see why Owen would use any of them in reference to how hes dressed, "Urrm, thanks i guess", he grins at Mike, "Expect the unexpected", he walks over and sits one the pool table, "So something happened to Owen?"

Dallas laughs and tries to fend off Owen. "Help, rabies! Rabid batboy attacks!" Apparently a night of sleep and a lack of a self-castigating workout today have done his attitude some good. Well, that and Owen acts like a 'guy' in a sense that Dallas can relate to. That conversation about letting the beast out is basically none of his business so he keeps out of it, just looking back to Mik as Mike speaks and nodding. "It's a pretty big change." Mikhail's statement gets quirked eyebrows and a dubious expression but the obvious subject change cue is respected. He makes a note to hunt Mik down later. And with rare tact from him, he lets Owen tell the tale, if he wishes, rather than just saying, 'He Drac'ed out' or something similar.

Owen smirks when called rabid and increases his 'attack'. Now he's going for a full tackle and wrestling match while laughing. "Sure thin', Mike," he laughs out, flashing a quick grin his way. "Basically. Mah powers overloaded an' turned intah a giant, homicidal bat monster, Mikhail," he says, inching back into that 'bury it all under grins and laughter with some flirting' Owen people know and love. "Thanks, Mr. Starsmore. Jus' um…we'll need tah lock the room down when we do it…an' make sure the Bat can' get tah you either," he is concerned for the man's safety. "Two weeks an Ah transform again."

«Call me Jono. Doubt you can hurt me.» Said of the bat getting to him. «You can't drain me, and I'm resistant to a lot of physical harm.» Sounds so sure of himself. Wrestling on the couch isn't something Jonothon worries about either. Legs crossed at the ankle, the man gets another reply on his phone, and works on his own response. It really does take most of his attention. Gave Owen the offer for help, and now it's out of his hands.

That 'expect the unexpected' elicits a reflexive 'toucha ma bike an I keel yoo ded,' in a casual, joking tone. Mike's mental voice is probably better at conveying that than his physical one was - the squeaks from changing would usually pop up around the middle of a retort like that.
Mike goes over and sits on the couch next to Dallas and Owen, on whichever end is least occupied by their wrassling. He doesn't slump into it. Not good to slump. Chairs have broken when he slumped. He rescues the bowl of popcorn from the flailing, looks at it for a moment, and puts it down away from the area of action.

Mikhail's eyes widen at Owen's explanation of what happened, "Whoa, that sounds… unpleasant", from what hes seen on TV, whoa is an appropriate responce to something strange or shocking, he flashes a fanged grin at Mike in responce to his joking threat, and laughs at Dallas and Owen wrestling.

Dallas fights the good fight but without calling his shadow he's not a match for Owen, given the other young man's enhanced abilities. And doing that would be cheating. Eventually, he slips free of the losing battle and quickly stands to put the couch between he and Owen, trying not to laugh and holding his hands out at chest level in the universal 'I give' gesture. "Ok, ok. rabid may have been inappropriate. I meant to say 'plagued'." He gives Mikhail another look at word choices and accent and then shakes his head. It's just been all around a weird week. Even for Mutant High.

Owen flops onto the couch a moment as Dallas slips free. Looks like he's planning the next attack. "Alright, Jono. How abot we try tahmorrow?" he asks, not entirely sure what the man has in mind but desperate to get the Bat under control. "Ah'm a bit too drained tah try tahday," he adds, not eager for a potential transformation when he still got that weird 'phantom limb' sensation from last night's. "Worse for the people the monster attacked, Mik," he says serious for a moment. He looks to Dallas and teleports to the other side of the couch before trying to give the blond a joking punch to the arm again. "Plagued?"

There's a bit of a delay as Jonothon works out sentences in his head. «Sounds good.» Odds are it's over someone else's words, but ah well. Hopefully he remembers about tomorrow. The teleport has him eyeing the teens a moment, but since there's no harm done, nothing is said about it. Type type type type..

Mikhail whistles, "That sucks" and laughs as Owen attacks Dallas again.

Dallas jumps a little at that teleport. How do you get used to something like that? The punch merits another laugh and a broad, slow, easily dodged swipe in return. "Ok, ok, fine. You're not rabid or plagued. Maybe needing a flea dip?" He backs away as he says it, watching Owen not unlike he would an offensive lineman with a grudge, albeit grinning as he moves back.

Owen gets a look and starts to say something. There's an abrupt pause as he notices the others in the room and Owen smirks instead. Evading the swipe, he moves to grab Dallas in a quick friendly hug. "Ya'll gonna pay for the flea dip remark later," he teases in a whisper. He lets out a deep breath and then moves to flop back onto the couch.

Well, looks like the tussling is over. Phone finally finished with, the man stuffs it into the back pocket of his jeans. This
involves his leaning to one side a bit, but it's not long before he's relaxing back. Sorry he's not been too involved today. Jonothon's distracted. «Mikhail..» Oh hell, he totally forgot. Looking over he says, «Robyn was asking about your tattoo. You can get it removed down in the medical bay.» Saves Mikhail having to wait for Robyn to relay. Of course Jono could be too late. «Ask Dr McCoy about it.»

Hmm. Male Bondage«<ING Warzone wrong place to be. Older boys being weird (yes Mike JUST turned 15 even if he seems older sometimes. Put it down to being raised around adults and having few same-age friends.)
So while the skirmish was ongoing Mike pushed off of the couch and now he walks across the room to the rack of game consoles, pulling a USB keyfob from his pocket. He downloaded a perfectly good game from Steampunk a few days ago and would really like to get to play it… now do they have a Z-Box…

When Jono tells him he can get his tattoo removed a huge grin speads across his face, "Really?, i can get the tattoo gone?, thanks so much, i'll go down to see Dr MaCoy in the morning", that has really made Mikhail's day.

Dallas lets out a startled 'erk!' of surprise at the hug and gives Owen a wary, dubious look at that comment but he just shrugs and straightens out his t-shirt. He shakes his head and looks back towards the game. The Lakers are still winning. But then again, they won twenty years ago. It's a repeat. He leans on the back of the couch and snags some popcorn from the bowl. He doesn't actually care, watching it was just an excuse to get some badly needed socialization. He actually winces a bit as Mikhail says that and says, cautiously, "You sure about that, Mikhail? I mean, it's your body and stuff, but that is pretty much your 'look'. Well, it was."

Owen quirks an eyebrow. "Tattoo?" he asks, curious. He sat back and watched the others, just enjoying being around people again. "Ah considered getting a tattoo once but mah Ma caught me and Ah got whooped for it," he laughs at the memory. "Ah should call an' let 'em know Ah'm alright…" he mutters.

Jonothon shrugs about the tattoo. «I didn't get details. Mikhail wants it gone, so I offered a way.» Whether or not Mikhail opts to give those details, well, that's up to him. With this the man levers himself from his chair. «Cheers, mates. I've got to go. Just got a call.» And he doesn't mean his phone. Glad that he made Mikhail happy though. «Don't destroy anything while I'm gone.» With the wrestling and teleporting and all. Poor Mike though. A wave and Jono leaves the room.

Mike starts to think out loud, "It was forced on him to make him seem more like an animal."
Because Mikhail said essentially that the other day, and it made Mike's admiration of the design evaporate completely. But Jono heads out before he can say it, so he just stands quietly for a second. Just aas well Mike. That's Mik's story to tell if he wants.
He returns his attention to the game consoles - ah, wait, there's a sticky on the Z box that says Blue Ring of Doom. Crapspackle.

Mikhail sighs and holds out his wrist for Dallas to see, clearly visable is the tattoo of his name crossed out, "This is a symbol of my captivity, it showed that my former master had enough power over me that he could even take away my name, I want it gone", he ignores Dallas comment refuring to his change, Dallas is in no position to comment on someone pretending to be someone they arn't.

Dallas waves a genial goodbye to Jono and then nods to Mike, thoughtfully. He winces slightly at that demonstration and then just nods. "Yea, I can see wanting to get rid of that. Well, good luck with it." He straightens up and stretches and says, "I'm going to take a run in the woods, since the weather is still warm. Seems like a good day for it." Well, apparently he couldn't go all morning without doing something physical. "You guys have a good one." With that he starts to head out.

Owen blinks and looks Mikhail over. "Oh. Ah'd want somethin' like that gone too," he agrees. "If ya'll need anythin' or want some moral support, Ah'd be happy to come along," he offers. "See ya, Jono," he offers. He waves as Dallas goes and then stands. "Ah gotta run too. Good seein' ya'll," he offers. WIth little more, he's gone in a teleport.

Mike scrawls on a piece of paper, defeated by the lack of working machines. "I HATE having to write everything down. I like the new look. Take care." And he starts toward the door, a 15 year old's dejected attitude on his not-at-all 15-looking robot frame.

Mikhail waves at everyone as they leave, then goes to sit on the couch to go over in his head what he learned from this little gathering.

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