2012-01-28: Being Broken


Nicholas_icon.jpg Nigel_icon.jpg Quenton_icon.jpg

Shane_icon.jpg Taylor_icon.jpg

Summary: Movie night turns into more personal discussions.

Date: January 26, 2011

Log Title: Being Broken

Rating: PG-13

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.

Nigel is seated on the couch in the Rec Room like he usually is once classes are over. Tonights fast-food of the day is Gyros apparently, though exactly how he keeps getting this stuff from town with no car is anyone's guess. The director's cut of the Watchmen in the Blu-Ray player tonight as he nurses a 2-liter of Pepsi Max.

Planning to just relax this evening in the rec room with his copy of Star Wars: A New Hope is Nicholas. He's got a bag of microwaved popcorn, a twelve ounce bottle of soda and his Star Wars Blu-Ray boxset floating in front of him. His eyes glow blue and his hand is out in front of him so it's obvious he's using his powers to telekinetically carry them from the kitchen. Once he sees Nigel and the television is already usurped he lowers his hand and his stuff sinks in front of him as he sighs.

Taylor comes through the door a little while after Nicholas, not carrying any snacks, but also likely having some kind of plan for the evening. The felinoid pauses a bit disappointed at seeing the present screen, but peers at it for a few moments with a blank expression, ears twitching lightly, likely trying to determine what's going on.

Nigel looks over as he hears somone enter and gives Nicholas a wave, smiling when he sees the floating objects "Ok now that's cool. Hey if you were gonna toss somthing in feel free, getting to the end of this as is." He motions to the disk player. look

And then Quenton walks in. Well. Bursts in, more like. Party crasher. "This movie sucks," he grunts, while he slides on in, glancing over to the floating objects Nick has and considers slapping them down. But he plays nice, for now. He has to, with the family issues. Just play it cool. "Uh. But you know. Don't turn it off." Don't worry. He won't throw a couch at the television.

Nicholas looks to Nigel and then gives him a nod. "Cool." He says as he watches Quenton storm into the room. "For the love of.." He mutters as the last person he wants to deal with is the anger bomb and the stuff he's holding up drops to the ground. He sees Taylor come into the room and watches the cat for a bit. "Hello Taylor and Nigel and Quenton." He says in a fairly frustrated sounding greeting.

Taylor glances towards Nicholas at the greeting, adjusting the green vest over their white button up for a moment and then nodding at Nicholas, "Hey." The feline turns towards Quenton at hearing his voice and noticing him properly, offering the boy a wave.

Nigel stands to flip the player off to let Nicholas load his. Looking back to Quenton but not saying anything, he does give a wave to Taylor though. "Another evening at Xaviers." He blinks and looks down as his phone goes off and checks it. "Dammit.. what now?" He moves to gather up his things. "Sorry folks gotta bolt.. looks like I'm wanted in the med Bay for somthing. Some issue with my last DR session.." He moves towards the door. "Have a good evening."

"Likely excuse," Quenton calls after Nigel, though the other boy probably was being genuine. "Med bay for his last dee are session? Danger Room? He didn't look too hurt. He hurt somebody?" He shrugs, moving over to the armchair and plopping down on it. "Someone put on something better than Watchmen."

There's a small wave to Nigel and Nick goes over and replaces Watchmen with his copy of A New Hope. "Who knows what's with him." He says not really sure what's going on. He then telekinetically grabs his soda and popcorn and sits down on the couch, kicking off his sneakers. "And if you have a problem with Star Wars Quenton, let me know now." He says with an annoyance in his tone.

"Oh, seeya later, then," says Taylor as Nigel goes by, stepping out of his way, and then shrugging towards Quenton, "I dunno, I wasn't there, I couldn't guess… Maybe something went wrong? I don't know how it works." The feline student then looks towards Nick and says, despite not having been asked, "I don't mind Star Wars…"

Realizing he's yet to greet Taylor, Quenton quickly corrects that, glancing over to Taylor now. "Hey, man. How're you doing?" He clears his throat, lifting a hand. "Anyone fuck with you?" Nick purshases his attention. "Nah. I don't mind the Wars, Warlock's in this movie, he's the little runty one."

"Warlock?" Nick questions Quenton feeling a bit relived the student isn't pressing his buttons. "You mean Warlock is R2D2?" He says trying to figure out what means by that. "Well, if any of you want popcorn, feel free, I can always grab another back from the kitchen." He says offering to Taylor and Quenton before something strikes him weird. "Why are you calling Taylor man? She's a girl."

"Hey, Q, what's happening? And, uh, no, nobody's fucked with me at all," says Taylor, smiling slightly at the query, before the felinoid turns towards Nicholas and says, "Oh, thanks, Nick. Yeah, I can't eat much popcorn, but I'd sure be down for a few kernels." At Nicholas's last statement, the felinoid's ears perk up slightly, and Tay seems kind of at a loss for a response.

"Uh. Right. Uh." Quenton glances over at Taylor, searching the felinoid's face for a reaction. "My bad, dude." Dude works. Dude's gender neutral. He's awfully friendly right now. But then aggression again. "And no one wants your stale popcorn." He leans back, hands moving behind his nape. "And no, Warlock's a fucking Jedi, man, have you seen the way he dresses?"

*clomp clomp clomp cl—* Shane pauses at the entryway to the Rec Room, eyebrow quirking upwards at the gathering. For a moment she hesitates, eyes flicking from Quenton to Taylor to Nick, then, with the barest hint of a shrug, crosses the room. Passing by Taylor and Nicholas with a brief, quiet "Sup?" she heads straight for Quenton's chair, seating herself on the armrest and leaning back onto his shoulder. Only then does she pull her headphones down, passing a hand through platinum-blond hair.

"Oh…oh!" Nick says as it dawns on him what Quenton is talking about. "I've always meant to ask him what the deal with those weird goggles are." He says as his eyes flick to the television. Then at Quenton's statement about his popcorn being stale, Nick gives him a bit of a dirty look which is only broken when Shane comes in. "Oh, hey." He says to her before moving his eyes back to the television.

"He wears 'em so that he can lower them when shit gets real," says Taylor, shrugging lightly, making a 'lowering goggles' gesture. The feline student gives Shane a wave and a, "Hey, Shane," and hops over the couch to sit down on it, landing rather lightly, and glancing towards her as she sits next to Quenton. The feline then reaches towards Nicholas's popcorn.

Taken off guard by Shane's entrance, Quenton's breath is taken away. God, he's a sap, suddenly. He shifts slightly, body stilling as she leans against it, his shoulder leaning back just barely so that she has more room to sit comfortably, eyes flicking over the mop on top of Shane's head to check the color. He's dressed in a tight hoodie she might recognize, with a symbol that is odd in the middle of it. "Hey, Shane," he greets, clearing his throat. "He wears them because he's straight out of a steampunk uh…" He doesn't finish. He isn't a nerd.

Shane shifts a bit in place, apparently searching for that one spot that makes everything perfectly comfortable. Finding it, she lets herself sag backwards, pausing to turn her head and inspect the hoodie closely, for a moment. "…Looks good," she says finally, nodding once. "Got y'size right 'n everything. Awesome." With that, she returns to the business of using the single most volatile student in the school as half a back-rest, glancing about the room. "…Whose goggles?"

"Warlock's." Nick replies to Shane as his eyes continue to focus on the movie. Seeing Taylor come up next to him, he reaches out with the popcorn to offer her some. "What's Steampunk?" He asks not really familiar with the term. He doesn't seem to be looking anywhere else but the television screen at the moment. "He's a weird kid, not bad just weird."

"Steampunk is like, well, it's like this style that's kind of a combination between industrial, Victorian and like, clockwork kind of stuff," explains Taylor in response to Nick's question, "Lots of brass, kind of classic looking I guess…" The felinoid seems quite happy to take the offered popcorn, and then looking towards Quenton, studying the symbol curiously now that it's been pointed out.

"'S basically, 'f steam power was the best technology ever, what coulda happened 'f we didn't switch t' electricity. So, yeah. Lotsa shit like dirigibles, leather, brass, wood, waistcoats 'n pocketwatches 'n shit. Good costumes, tricked-out Victorian shit." Her opinion given, Shane finally focuses on the television. "…What're you watchin'?"

"Yeah, fits like a fucking…" Quenton trails off, before glancing over to Nick at his question. Opting not to answer, he resists the urge to wrap an arm around Shane's waist in favor of her intact then with a broken hip. "We're all fucking weird, anyway," he mutters, while he rubs at the side of his face with the hand away from Shane, glancing at the television, answering for Nick. "The Wars."

Nicholas takes some popcorn after Taylor and leaves sitting so it's easy access for both of them. "Oh." He says at the explanation. "Sounds….costumey." He says before looking at Shane in shock. "Oh sorry, I don't mean, I mean yours are cool looking but it's not like jedi steam Victorian dude." He says trying to not insult her. "It's A New Hope, the better trilogy."

Taylor nods at what Shane says and notes, "I've got some dolls that are in that kind of stuff. Hard to make those ones, with all the little parts…" The feline looks from Quenton to Shane back to the symbol and asks, "… is that a Hero of Rage symbol?"

Quenton tugs at his hoodie before nodding his head, clearing his throat at Taylor's question. "I think so," he murmurs, glancing aside at Nicholas, now, before rubbing the side of his face, then leaning his head against Shane's arm, letting it go limp so he isn't exactly headbutting her. "This one is so fucking slow, though."

Shane solves the issue of the unused hand for herself; leaning down, she takes the free hand by the wrist, lifts up, circles it around her waist, and finally drops the hand on her leg. Problem solved. "Starts out, yeh," she says of the movie. "Trench scene, though. C'mon. Anyway, yeah. Pokin' 'round Topatoco, found Q's present. Hadda guess the size, though, glad I got it right."

With all the talking going on while trying to watch the movie, Nick just stands up and leaves the room, and his popcorn, without saying anything. The movie still playing as he doesn't even bother to take his blu-ray disc with hime

Taylor blinks a few times as Nicholas gets up to leave without a word. The feline watches with a bit of a confused expression and seems momentarily guilty before looking towards the screen and back towards the other two present, "Well… it's a cool hoodie…"

"He's just a spaz," Quenton blurts out, back on the aggressive now. "He'll have no issue coming in and doing the same thing to anyone else, but God forbid we ruin him when he's trying to be a nerd. Fucking nerd." And then he relaxes, as his hand is taken and drawn about Shane, keeping it limp. He glances over, betwen Taylor and Shane, before mumbling a, "Sorry. And thanks."

"…Yeah," Shane says after a moment's silence following Quenton's outburst, "…I kinda feel a little like shit too." Patting the boy's hand, she lets out a quiet breath, watching the movie. "…Didn't know 'f he could put it on 'thout rippin' it though. ….So I made a hoodie vest in the costume altering thingy here, too. Team colors."

Taylor nods at Shane after she says she feels a little like shit, frowning slightly, and then nodding at her explanation, "Oh, yeah, I guess that'd make sense. I've heard about that thing, I kind of want to alter my squad outfit."

Quenton nods his head in agreement. "Thing is bitching," he agrees, tilting his head idly, fingers not moving an inch. "I'm going to wear it under my squad jacket. Looks fucking badass. Like… uh…" He snaps his fingers, the sound a lot louder than a normal snap, air rippling about his thumb and forefinger. He knows the name, but he opts not to say it. He's not that nerdy.

"Alex Mercer?" Shane supplies, voice dry, apparently unperturbed by Quenton's snapping; after all, even as loud as it is, it still isn't a patch on a detonating head. "Kinda where i got the idea from, Prototype. Fun game. Have to show you the thingy, Taylor. The unstable molecule stuff's probably *way* too much a pain in the ass to work with properly, so, figure I might's well let th' machine worry about it."

"Yeah, I mean, I always have a bit of a harder time with stretchy materials, and it seems like unstable molecules is infinitely stretchy," says Taylor, considering it for a moment. The feline then nods at Quenton and says, "Yeah, it does look pretty damn badass."

"Alex Mercer," Quenton agrees, as if Shane reminded him, clearing his throat, leaning his head against her arm again. He nods to Taylor, muttering, "We should get you something badass to wear. What's your team colors?" he questions, while he occupies his other hand by scratching at his cheek, unwittingly tearing some flesh and leaving little red lines.

"Thinkin' of changin' my suit," Shane says after a moment of companionable silence. "SOLDIER's cool 'n all, but eh. Boots make it tougher t'pull off." She trails off for a moment, furrowing her brow, then blinks. "…Oh. Right. Q. Dad sent me somethin' f'you. Birthday present from me. Didn't know when it was, hadda call 'im when it popped up on th' calendar." With that, she extracts an envelope from the kangaroo pocket on her hoodie, passing it back. "Anyway. Stretchy stuff sucks ass, yeh. Rather work anythin' 'cept spandex. Or poly."

"I think I'm on Alpha Squadron, so green and black. Suits my, uh, fur patterns, I guess…" says Taylor, peering down at their somewhat pawlike hands for a moment. "I should think of one of those codenames or something, too. Make my costume suit whatever I choose." The felinoid sniffs lightly and then looks towards Quenton's cheek curiously.

Taking the envelope with his free hand, he moves that hand into Shane's lap so that his other hand can help him open the envelope. He moves his fingers just an inch and then flinches, wondering to Shane with a wetting of his lips, "Help me?" He glances over to Taylor now. "Green and black. Badass. We can work with that."

At first, it seems that Shane doesn't understand the reason for the request. The transition is interesting in itself to watch; confusion, then comprehension, then relf-reproach. "…Right. Shit. Sorry." The envelope is pulled open, just enough so the boy can hook a finger underneath the flap and tear it open the rest of the way, her hands remaining around the rest of it, for leverage. "Green and black… cat powers… hm. Depends on what'cha like, I guess. Some people love the suits. Some don't. Iunno. Ain't got th'figure to be too embarrased by it, m'self."

"Like, the skintight stuff? Yeah, that's… that doesn't suit my physique at all…" says Taylor, making a bit of a face at that, "I'd rather wear like… well, like an actual suit, like I'm wearing lots of the time just regular, with a tie and all that. Suits me, at least. Just not really good mobility, which kind've doesn't help me given that I'm pretty flexible now."

Quenton finishes tearing the envelope open, releasing an exhale as he relaxes his hand now so that he's not hurting Shane, moving to peer into the envelope, slightly against Shane. "The skintight stuff I imagine would be good for flexibility and stuff, but I hear you. I added pants to my costume. Actual pants. Over the jumpsuit."

Shane pulls out the letter, unfolding it to reveal an AMC gift card tucked away inside. The letter itself is straightened, handed back to Quenton for the boy to read. "Thinkin' a big scarf, 'n baggy pants. Maybe sleeveless. Dunno. Gotta design 'round the boots, so that's always fun. Probably you'll want somethin' loose around th'leg too, Taylor. Karate-type pants, mebbe. Or hell, just say fuckit 'n go Neo."

"Yeah, I just can't do skintight. My body's weird," says Taylor, shrugging lightly, "A big scarf? I guess I could go the fourth Doctor meets Neo, I suppose, that wouldn't look too bad if it were done right… Something sleeveless though, yeah. Uh, that'd probably do…"

"I don't know which one of your dads wrote this, but he's uh… either the coolest or scariest gay man I've ever…" Quenton just trails off, before clearing his throat, glancing over to Shane and he keeps the letter held tightly. "We'll… maybe go out and hang soon?" He shifts slightly, while glancing back over to Taylor, then rubbing the blood on his face, realizing the felinoid might feel third wheel. "Fourth Doctor? Huh?"

Shane leans her head back on Quenton's shoulder, a wry chuckle escaping her throat and drifting toward the ceiling. "…That'd be my Dad dad, not Steve. He kinda lost his shit when I was in th' hospital, 'n it wasn't till I woke up, 'fore he'd be happy with somethin' less 'n gettin' everyone on the school staff fired 'n put inna poor house. Sure. Goin' out 'n hangin' sounds like fun. Anyway, Taylor, um, I was talkin' more about m'self with the scarf 'n shit. Still think you could pull off that Chinese shirt-trenchcoat thing Neo had, second movie. Mebbe even the glasses too, hell."

Taylor seems kind of embarrassed and says, "Oh, sorry, I thought- Anyways, yeah, I'd probably do something sleeveless anyways… uh, but yeah, like a Neo look… that'd be fine…" The felinoid glances towards Quenton and says, "Oh, um, the really old version of Doctor Who… classic." The student looks between Shane and Quenton, and doesn't comment on this hanging business.

"Doctor… who?" Quenton wonders. His nerdiness is far, but it doesn't stretch so far as the popular British show. "I don't know who… uh, Doctor… whoever is," he admits, glancing aside at Shane as if he disappointed her by not knowing. "But uh, yeah. Sure. It's a -" Cuts himself off. "Thing," he opts with, setting the letter into his lap.

"Date," Shane finishes, lifting a shoulder. "Told Taylor 'bout us. Anyway. Never watched Doctor Who. Heard a lot about it though. Guess I should look it up. Hear it's great. Sleeveless… yeah I c'n see that. High collar, too. Loose pants, easier t'move in. Would work."

"Doctor Who is pretty good. It's a British sci fi show'n stuff, it's good… I watch it sometimes while I'm working on stuff," says Taylor, smiling, "I feel so British when I watch it. I could bring it down here sometime, or lend it to you guys… I've got DVDs."

"Uh, yeah, sure, we can watch that. We usually… watch stuff alot," agrees Quenton, rubbing his nape slightly. "That is the extent of our dating, usually, but now we got… this." He holds the envelope, wetting his lips. "Which is good. I was going to take her out with my allowance, but…" HE trails off, glancing over at Shane. "You and Sage… you guys are awesome. Date and a giant cookie."

Shane snorts, lips curling up in a wry smirk as she turns to look at Quenton. "Hey. Think Dad was just happy hearin' I got a boyfriend, y'know?" Lifting a shoulder, she tilts her head at Taylor's suggestin, nodding once. "Could be cool. Coupla Dr. Who nights. Popcorn, bad soda, 'n old, awesome cheap British TV. ….Sounds pretty fun, actually."

"I imagine it'd be fun. It's a fun show. I like both the classic and the modern series…" says Taylor, smiling slightly, before looking towards Quenton and nodding, "Well, I'm not really sure what dating really consists of, normally. Watching stuff seems like as good a thing as anything…"

"If you don't have an issue hanging out with a couple… I mean, I don't wanna leave you as a third wheel or something… but if you don't got an issue with that, then we can always… I dunno." Quenton glances aside at Shane now, shrugging his shoulders, offering Taylor, "watch it with us. I don't think either of us would mind." Yes. He's being nice.

Shane glances back, lifting a shoulder. "Nothin's sayin' we gotta miss a date for it. Hell, got enough people I don't mind watchin' TV with, could always just make it a thing. You guys, Sage, mebbe Nick… I mean, if we're gonna make a thing of it… might as well make a *thing* of it, y'know?"

"That'd be cool, yeah… making a thing of it," says Taylor, nodding slightly, "Though I guess the modern doctor's probably a little more, uh, palatable for mass consumption… But no, I don't have an issue hanging out with a couple, I mean, so long as I'm not like… in the way and stuff."

"Nick," Quenton breathes, furrowing his brow, glancing off towards the door a moment, wetting his lips needlessly. "Right." He releases an exhale, then glances over to Shane. "I mean, sure. If that's what you want." His upper lip twitches only the faintest. "And you… I mean, we'd be hanging out as friends. You wouldn't be in the way, Taylor."

"Sure, why not?" Shane says, furrowing her brow. "Know you don't get along. Figure it'll be okay anyway. Can't hurt to bring it up. He comes, cool. He don't, his call. And yeah. Can't be in th' way if it's a big friends thing…" Trailing off at this, Shane frowns at a passing thought, giving her head a brief shake. "…Anyway. Dr. Who marathon. Gotta start with the classics. Q here's a subs purist anyway, figure old British TV's the next best thing."

"Yeah, true enough, it's hard to get in the way of big friends things," says Taylor, nodding about the reassurances of not being in the way, "Old British TV's pretty fantastic. Gotta say. I've got it all, though." The feline glances between Shane and Quenton, and then says, "So long as he doesn't insult me, Nicholas can be okay…"

"It's fine. I can deal with him. I don't get along with him because he's like me. Just… not. The difference between him and me other then our mutations and his retarted taste in music, and uh, his blonde hair is that I want to punch my problems away and he wants to run from them." Quenton is silent for a while, before admitting now, "Maybe he's the bigger person."

Shane falls silent at this for a while, lips pursed in thought. "…Dunno. Sorta. Me… think it's more like… You know what happened with you, Q. Nick… He knows what happened to'm, but everyone in the whole world thinks it's all his fault. So… Say he's *super* broken, right now, 'n people like us're just broke a little less. Don't matter who's bigger."

Taylor glances between Quenton and Shane, shrugging lightly, "I don't know much about him… I mean, he seems okay when he's not being, uh, not okay." The student looks away and shrugs, "Anyways, we all deal with our problems a bit differently. Running away is probably just as bad…"

"I guess I never thought of it that way," admits Quenton now, jerking his shoulders up in a rough shrug, clearing his throat. "It's why you're the brains of this operation, Shane," he murmurs, lifting a hand to gesture with his finger between her and him. "What happened to me isn't as bad as what happened to most, really."

Shane snorts. "Find new brains. Mine're borked," she mutters, cheeks flushing slightly. "Anyway. Sounds like a plan. "If I get to plop you both down in fronta Paprika, week after, anyway."

"Paprika?" repeats Taylor, taking a turn at being unfamiliar with the particular thing being talked about, "I probably had the whole mutant thing pretty easy. A bit of pain… lost my face…" The felinoid touches their face lightly, indicating that the latter was probably a bigger deal than the first, "I think it's pretty fair that anyone can take some time to get over it, though. Just cause there's always someone hurting worse doesn't mean anyone's hurting isn't legit."

"Paprika?" echoes Quenton, glancing between the felinoid and the girl. He shrugs his shoulders. "My mutation wasn't bad when it first happened. I've never been so happy before. It broke me and Jake's life of getting beat on all the time always. We developed powers near the same time. We were heroes," he murmurs quietly. "It was the uh… second mutation that ruined my life. The rage. It gets stronger the more I… Ah, well." He glances at Shane. "I think yours was pretty bad."

Shane shrugs once, squirming into Quenton's shoulder. "…Mostly over mine. Sorta. 'Sides. Wasn't so bad as what happened after. But anyway. Paprika. 'S like Ghost in the Shell. On acid. Also a detective story. Good stuff, 'f you can wrap y'brain around it."

"Well, that sounds like it'll be interesting at least. I kind of like stories that are a bit weird, funky cinematics and all that," decides Taylor, shrugging lightly, "I can kind of relate to the stuff happening after being worse, but not… well, it wasn't so bad, really, I guess…"

"I like action. Obviously. Not always. Maybe it's part of the anger bit. I like action, though. Like Baccano! And uh, other stuff." Quenton grunts as he leans back and stares at the ceiling. "Paprika. We'll make it a thing. We'll just burn through stuff."

"'S got action," Shane assures Quenton. "Also creepy head-trip reality-warping shit. Awesome stuff." Glancing back at Quenton, Shane seems to actually smile, if only briefly, and loop her arm around to settle around his neck. "…Y'know? Sounds like an awesome idea. Gonna hafta get on it."

"That does sound like a pretty awesome idea," decides Taylor, smiling lightly. "I used to sometimes watch stuff with my kind of sort of boyfriend, or ex kind of sort of boyfriend I guess… always liked it."

"I'm sorry about… him," Quenton grunts over to Taylor, releasing a breath. "If you weren't still obviously in love with him, I'd toss him into the air once for you," he mutters. "Just once. I'd catch him." Maybe.

Shane blinks, looking from Taylor to Quenton, slightly puzzled. "…Hwuh?"

Taylor laughs softly at Quenton's comment and nods, "Yeah… it's too bad about him…" The feline looks towards Shane and explains, "Well, like, nobody liked me at my school, I only had one friend, one person to go to. Who was kind of sort of my boyfriend, I mean, I don't know, but we kissed and stuff sometimes, so I think so? I mean, I would have been cool with a boyfriend. Anyways… didn't want anything to do with me after this. Hurts." Tay shrugs.

"Well. I mean. Shane's my girlfriend," Quenton murmurs. "But we can't… we can't do much affection, except I can sometimes wrap my arms around her, if I'm real careful. We can't kiss like… I mean we can peck each other, but we can't make out or anything like that. Not with our powers the way they are. I mean, well mine. I don't know how much control…" He trails off, glancing side at Shane. "You have. And I'm not mad, hell, you're the best thing to happen to me at this school." He shifts uncomfortably, steam briefly rising from him. "So… kind of sort of? Well. He was still yours. I'm hers."

Shane's expression slowly darkens, from simple puzzlement into something truly thunderous, throughout the tale. What could have been a truly black mood is lightened, somewhat, by Quenton's attempt at describing their relationship. "Useta be I didn't have any control. Get upset, hafta jump out a window or something, 'fore I blew. Got a handle on it, though. Didn't have a choice. Think it was either learn, 'r die. Still ain't got a handle on what Heather's parents woulda done 'f I wasn't up t'snuff. Don't wanna ask." Shaking her head, as though to clear out a mob of particularly evil thoughts, she curls her legs up. "…Ain't gonna be sorry f'sayin' I wanna find this guy, 'n give'm a big hug, Taylor. Dick."

Taylor listens to Quenton describing his relationship with Shane, nodding slowly as he says they can't kiss, but smiling at the final bit. The expression says, 'Aww, that's cute', but Taylor dares not say it. The feline nods at Shane and says, "I kind of just want to smack him when I think about it, but I miss him. I hoped he'd be okay. He was always okay with me being a bit different, but I guess this was too much. Kind of ungrateful, I sorta saved his fucking life. I'd've stayed with him if something like this happened."

"Saving people isn't all it's cracked up to be," Quenton grunts bitterly, before furrowing his brow, glancing to the television, where by now credits are rolling, wetting his lips slightly yet again. A tic of his, perhaps. The steam stopped, at least. "Soon there'll be a time where we don't have to worry about those differences, maybe. I mean. I guess… you got a bad end of the deal. People can see your mutation and be scared of it, or disgusted. People if they see my veins or eyes are usually afraid, too. Not that I mind humans being afraid of me, but I'm not like you. I'm sorry your life was turned so upside down. What about your parents?"

Shane snorts hard, but for the moment says nothing, though it is, in the least, clear that she doesn't think much at all of people being afraid of her, either. Instead she simply closes her eyes for a moment, resting her head against Quenton's shoulder and listening until something comes up she can offer an opinion on.

"Yeah, I mean, it's hard enough adjusting to looking so different myself without having being kind of singled out people everywhere, or having the few people I fucking care about turn away," says Taylor, frowning slightly, "I'm used to being alone. I'm okay with it. As for my parents… they'll adjust. They didn't visit me in the hospital on Christmas but… they'll adjust. They've never known what to do with me anyways."

"You know what sucks?" Quenton murmurs, leaning back. "I'm the kind of nerd who'd think having a superpowered friend, no matter how they'd look, would be awesome. But at the same time, I bet that I'd be scared of them in some way." He glances over to Shane a moment. "I bet that most of us, if we never mutated, would be scared of each other. Maybe even hate each other."

"Probably," Shane murmurs, cracking an eye open. "…But I'm scared of everyone. So, y'know. Whatever. …Probably wouldn't've had a boyfriend yet, though. So that's good. Could still do without the being a walkin' grenade, 'r bein' brainwashed into a god-moding suicide bomber, or that Kick shit, or whatever else stupid crazy horrible thing's gonna happen 'fore spring pops up. ….Could be worse, though." Reaching up, she wraps her arms around Quenton's neck, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Startin' to crash," she murmurs. "Gonna go sleep. Doctor Who on Sunday?"

Taylor looks down at what Quenton has to say, nodding slowly. "Yeah… I mean, if Tim'd turned into a cat… thing… ocelot, I guess is the cat I am like? I have no doubt I'd stay with him. But it'd have freaked me out a little at least… It'd be tough at first…" Tay looks towards Shane and then nods, "I'll supply the Doctor Who."

"I'll supply the uh… " He trails off, before nodding. "You know. Wannabe Superman." He leans his head towards Shane as she kisses him, not the way a normal person would, just letting his head fall into the kiss and then stilling himself before they collide. Then he turns his own lips on her, kissing her just behind the ear, his skin extremely hot to the touch. "Mine," he tells her, before clearing his throat, nodding to Taylor.

"No," Shane mutters into Quenton's ear, the word apparently amusing her. "*Mine.* Had it right b'fore." Hopping off the chair, she makes her way to the Blu-Ray player, popping out Nicholas' disc and putting it back in its case. "….Dunno where t'put this so he'll get it," she says, placing it prominently on the stand. "So just let'm know it's here? Anyway. Later, guys. See y'here Sunday." And with that, she turns on her iPod, manic, complex guitars backing almost desperately upbeat vocals. I'm alive again, the darkness far behind me! I'm invincible, despair will never find me! before her earphones are clapped over her ears, as she walks out the door and to the Dorms.

"I'll let him know if I see him," says Taylor, nodding towards Shane as she goes, and examining the disc for a moment from a distance before looking back to Quenton. "You two're good together."

"She's too good for me," Quenton says in an oh so cliche way. But then, he is the biggest twit in the school, so maybe he's not too far off. "She's amazing and… brave. And smarter then people thik." He glances over to Taylor now.

"She seems plenty smart to me," says Taylor, looking over towards the door past Quenton, and then shrugging at him. "She seems really cool. I'm glad we ran into each other on that first day I was here…"

"She is really cool," Quenton agrees, nodding over to Taylor, lifting his hand and putting it behind his head, watching the felinoid now, lips pressing tightly together. "I hope it's just me, you, her and Sage. We can… I dunno. Be the group. The -group-."

"Yeah, that'd be cool… I mean, I've never been a part of a group before. Much less. -The- group," says Taylor, chuckling softly. The teen sprawls out on the couch now, picking up the popcorn to start eating it. It seems thoroughly abandoned.

"That'd be cool," Quenton agrees, the young man glancing down at the popcorn before he glances over to the television, wondering, with a shrug of his shoulders; "Wanna watch something else? Mine and Shane's anime stash are hidden underneath that couch you're on."

"Oh, I'd be down for watching something else. I feel like I've become, well… nocturnal in the last little while. Can't sleep at night, can't stay awake during the day," says Taylor. The student rolls off of the couch and says, "You guys keep a secret stash?"

"We do," Quenton agrees. "Well. I do. Stuff Shane keeps getting me to watch. Most of it is hers, but I'm borrowing them." He sits up slightly. "I'd grab it, but I might break something."

Taylor nods at Quenton and says, "I understand, I'll get it." The feline finds this stash and glances over towards Quenton, "Is there anything you've got a hankering to watch?"

"Nothing much. Just pick something that pops to you," he suggests, Quenton lifting off the chair and drifting over to land beside Taylor. "Baccano! Paranoia Agent, uh… that one there with the girl with the purple hair, it's about this group of friends that keep killing each other but time resets every few episodes."

"It sounds like you've already watches Baccano," says Taylor, considering the available choices, "Let's go with the purple haired girl one, that sounds interesting." Taylor picks up the case and squints at it, bringing it closer and further away a few times.

"I can't pronounce the name," admits Quenton, while he peers over Taylor's shoulder, rubbing the side of his face. "Shane pronounces it easy. I can't even spell it right," he mutters, shifting uncomfortably. "But it is very weird. Very odd." He scratches at his face again, leaving the little bloody lines.

"I just can't see it right. My eyes aren't good at reading anymore," admits Taylor, frowning slightly but bringing it on over to the television, sniffing at the air lightly, and asking without looking back at Quenton, "Do you usually cut your face so easily?"

"It's always been like this," Quenton murmurs, while he lowers his hand. "Since the incident. I… uh… I need the pain to fight it back. What's inside me." He shrugs his shoulders now, while they slump defeatedly. "Sorry if it bothers you."

"No, it doesn't. I was just concerned, y'know? I just smell the blood. Which, I dunno, it's not an unpleasant smell for me now…" says Taylor, fiddling with the device and putting it in, "I feel the same way I used to when I smelled freshly baked cookies." The student pauses and says, "Which sounds fucked up now that the words have left my mouth."

"Yeah, that's just a little creepy," Quenton agrees, glancing to the side, hands in his pockets. but he doesn't shy away. "But I… hear you. Seeing blood is… I dunno. It makes me feel…" He exhales. "We're a little different, you and I, aren't we?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Eh. I dunno. I'm not too weirded out."

Taylor finishes putting in the dvd and starting the player, moving back to sit down on the couch, "Yeah, probably a bit different… I feel like my brain is all different now. Catch myself doing things that aren't… me."

"Kind of like… a cat?" guesses Quenton, as he moves to sit down onto the couch, next to Taylor. He crosses his hands behind his head, elbows out, crimson eyes on the television. "I'd say I know how you feel, but I'm sure it's different for you. It must be uh… you know. Scary."

"Yeah. Yeah, like a cat, where I'm like… just acting like an animal without realizing it, like jumping after something I think has moved, or begging Nick for food or… or… murdering small animals," says Taylor, swallowing after the last and nodding, "Fucking scary! But yeah. I guess… maybe lots of people feel that way…"

"Begging Nick for food," Quenton murmurs, and he can't hide the boyish grin on his face as he runs his fingers through his dark hair. "Murdering small animals," he echoes, more somberly. He releases a shuddering breath before glancing aside at Taylor. "I guess that's even scarier."

"I… I never meant to… It's only when I've realized what I've done, I've never eaten, you know…" Taylor trails off and shrugs, "I just see the movement, and it's like, I just move. And yeah, um, Nick had like these little burgers… I smelled 'em from the hall. I only realized I was begging like an animal when he told me to fuck off."

"He told you to fuck off?" Quenton wonders abrubtly, glancing over to Taylor, hands clenching reflxively into fists. "Listen. He isn't going to do that anymore. He wants me to be nice to his fucking snitch of a god damned friend, he needs to chill the fuck out before I knock his ass out." The sudden anger is abrubtly halted and he furrows his brow, relaxing slightly. "Sorry."

"Well, that time he was right to. I was being a pest," says Taylor, frowning slightly, as much as a felinoid face can frown, "That Warlock kid got into a fight with him, trying to defend me or something… but I mean, Nick was right that time. I was begging for food. And… and what snitch of a friend?"

"It's a part of your mutation. At least you're not trying to goad everybody in a fight because you have these urges to kill people." Quenton clears his throat. "You're a lot cooler then most people at this school, and life has been shitty to you since birth." He grunts, shaking his head. "I get he's in a bad situation and I think that the Purifiers should pay. But that's no reason to take it out on you when it's something you can't control. It's not like you're hurting people."

"Eh, yeah, I wasn't but I… I hate that I'm acting this way, even if I can't control it. I mean, I'm a person, I'm not an animal, just a person," says Taylor, shrugging lightly and glancing towards the television when there's any significant motion. "Is… that why you were making fun of me the other day when we met? 'cause you were trying to goad me?"

"Yes," admits Quenton. "It's a defense mechanism. It wasn't for you to fight me, though," he murmurs. Across the television is a macabre image of animated children strewn about, unmoving with no visible cause of death. "Since we're friends now, I guess I can tell you. I want people to hate me so they stay away from me. It's deep. I want to hurt people, but I don't want to. If that makes sense."

Taylor stares at the screen for a moment at the scene to try and make out any subtitles on it, before looking back towards Quenton, "I… I think I get it. When I was at school, I wanted people to think I was tough so they'd stay away. Like I'd fuck 'em up if they fucked with me. But that was more 'cause I didn't want them to hurt me. Your reason seems more noble, I guess… but it seems like, I dunno, Shane calms you down when you get all, uh, steamed up. Probably good you have her. Someone. I dunno."

"More noble?" Quenton wonders, while he looks from the screen to Taylor a moment, oblivious for the time being. "I -want- to hurt people. Badly. You don't understand, Taylor, I… I keep trying to think of brutal ways to…" He trails off. "Let's not talk about me. Anyway. No one's fucking with you for now on, or I'll throw them in the air once." He glances over, and then rests his hand carefully on a shoulde,r though he doesn't squeeze at all.

"I only meant… it's kind of noble that you'd want to keep other people from being hurt. Even if it's by being a jerk to 'em…" says Taylor, shrugging slightly, before nodding and looking from the hand to Quenton, nodding again and saying, "Thanks, Q… I actually really appreciate it…"

"We're pals now. And stuff." Quenton withdraws his hand and closes it into a fist. "And thanks for uh… you know. Calling me noble. And shit." He scratches at his cheek slightly, at the already red lines. "We do gotta find a way for you feel less like an animal, though. That means your boyfriend won, and fuck if I'm letting him win."

"Yeah. I mean, even with all these… things that I do and stuff, weird cat shit, I'm not an animal. I'm just a kid, y'know? But it freaks me out so much, 'cause… what if I just lose myself? It's like I'm on autopilot when I do stuff like that," says Taylor, "I don't want to lose my mind."

"We'll get you some help. That's something I can focus on, getting you some help," Quenton murmurs while he glances aside at Taylor now, pressing his lips tightly together. "We'll be alright. I've nothing better to do but worry about my family, and that's… pretty stressful."

Taylor looks towards Quenton and frowns slightly, seeming torn between asking and not asking, but decides to go with, "I don't know what's up with your family but… I hope it's okay… like, turns out fine and stuff."

"I don't know what's up with my family, either," admits Quenton now, clearing his throat. "But… my dad's a hero. They'll be fine. He'll know what to do. He'll know." He grunts. "Here I am, being eighteen and still wanting to be like him. Welcome to Xavier's."

Taylor's ears twitch lightly at what Quenton says and the feline student nods, "Oh. Yeah, if he's a hero, I'm sure that they'll be fine. And… Sounds like you respect him a lot… My dad was a stay at home dad. Looked after me, good guy…"

"Yeah? How was your home life?" Quenton wonders, noticing the ear twitch but opting to say nothing, remaining silent. "And what about your mother? And siblings, if you have any?"

"I'm an only child. It's probably why my dad stayed at home… just so I'd have some company. I mean, I know he cares about me, always has," says Taylor, considering that, "My mom's the district manager for Staples. In our district. She'd like, drive around and visit Staples stores across the state or something. I mean, they dealt with the whole, partial androgen insensitivity syndrome thing pretty well, but I guess… they're still dealing with the mutant thing. I understand. It's weird."

"I think of all people your parents should have taken it into stride," grunts Quenton, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "My dad felt sorry for me, I think. My sister, well, she knew for a while, so she was confused when she found out what I did. My mother hated it. Hated me. My brother did, too. I don't know." He glances over again. "So that's what it's called? Partial… androgen… uh. Mouthful."

"Well, I usually just used the acronym, PAIS, but then people ask what the acronym means, so I'd rather go in reverse order…" admits Taylor, shrugging lightly, "basically, got a Y chromosome, but testosterone doesn't work well on me, so I didn't develop into a boy like boys do, and so I'm in between. And… I'm sorry about your mother and brother… I hope that my parents don't hate me at all, I don't think. I think they were just scared…"

"I don't know. They both sound cool. And pretty normal, considering. Isn't it weird we're the only mutants in our families?" Quenton wonders abrubtly, looking at the other mutant, while he scratches his bridge of his nose. "So you probably understand uh… biology better then most, yeah? I mean, you probably researched your condition."

"Well, I dunno, I understand the biology of the condition itself. I'm not a biology genius, but I can explain stuff relating to what I've got or other conditions that make people… in between," says Taylor, looking idly at the screen while speaking, pausing for a moment before looking to Quenton and continuing, "But yeah, they're normal. I guess that's how it is in lots of families, though? Parents normal, and they have a mutant kid. I'm surprised you didn't have any mutant siblings. I think my parents stopped having kids cause of my problem… thought they'd screw up any other kid they had with their genes. But I mean, if you have siblings, then it's possible they have whatever genes work together to activate?"

The purple haired girl seems to be talking to someone that no one else can see, but Quenton doesn't seem surprised in the least at what's going on. He studies the screen for a while, reading the subtitles but talking over most of the high pitched Japanese conversations. "I wonder if that kind of thing ever happened in the middle ages, or during the colonial era, and how people reacted. I guess I'm weird like that. And yeah. I've even heard of mutants having normal kids for children."

"Well, for the last hundred years, they've pretty much just done surgery on kids born on the in between to fit them into a box, which is fucked up. I mean, I'm a fucked up kid, but at least I get a say. But yeah, it happened plenty, same prominence in the middle ages and during colonial ages. I guess in the West, though, it wasn't really noted too much until the eighteen hundreds… until medicine noticed and was like, 'Oh man these people living apparently normal lives are sick and we gotta help 'em.' And then I guess some traditions thought of intersex people as having like, shamanic properties…" explains Taylor, shrugging lightly at the explanation, "Can you imagine me as a shaman?"

"I've played a lot of weird fantasy games, Taylor. I can see you as a shaman, yeah," Quenton agrees, glancing over to Taylor a moment and tilting his head, while he leans back and places his feet on the table, making them go limp so he doesn't destroy it.

"Haha, really?" says Taylor, grinning a creepy sharptoothed feline grin at that, "I could never picture myself as like… a fucking spirit guide or any of that. I mean, it'd be cool, but I'm not good at making decisions. People coming to me for direction or whatever shamans do? I'd dispense like generic advice, 'Follow your heart' or something like that. Or I guess in some cultures get stoned out of my fucking mind and just say whatever crazy shit happens to come to mind."

"Really," agrees Quenton, glancing over now. "You'd make a kick ass spirit guide. And here's a bonus to being intersexxed for now. Getting into clubs and shit. Ladies night. You can pass for a girl. Boy's night. Samesies. Though I guess being a mutant would make things a lot more different." He rolls his tongue in his cheek. "Anyway, generic advice is better then nothing."

"Oh, yeah. I've always been able to pass either way, it's useful, I guess…" says Taylor, chuckling softly, "I usually just go with how I'm feeling. 'course, if someone sees you in a dress or skirt, to them, you'll be a girl forever, 'cause girls can wear guys clothes. Nick saw me in a dress the other day. But some days I want people to think I'm a boy. Other days I want them to think I'm a girl. Does that make sense?"

"Feeling out gender roles," Quenton guesses, without actually asking. "I don't know if I'd do the same in your situation. I can't know, really. It must be tough." He lean back and rubs the marks on his cheek. "But I'm not going to blame you for it, Taylor. Hell, I'll treat you however you want me to. Just sometimes it's hard to tell if you're wearing dude clothes and want to be treated all… like a dude."

"Eh, you're right, it can be hard to tell… really, I guess I'm not really sure how I want people to treat me. I mean, I kind of hope the same either way, but then why would I change how people're perceiving me with my presentation? I mean, though, if you're having a hard time telling on a particular day, feel free to ask. I know it sounds weird to ask," says Taylor, pausing to stretch in a rather feline manner, with a big yawn, "But some days, I'll feel like being a guy, a girl or neither… I don't want to set stuff in stone. That's something I loved about Tim. He could make me feel like his girl or his guy, either way, he'd… well, make me feel either normal or special. Don't know which I wanted…" The felinoid glances towards the television and notes, "I should be getting to my room right away here…"

Quenton yawns, too. Contagious. At Taylor's words, he nods, glancing over and watching the student for a long time. "Alright," he murmurs, grunting. "We've blown through like four episodes already anyway." The tall mutant shifts uncertainly. "I don't mean to be a dick, but can you put it back? I'd do it, but I don't want to break anything…" He trails off.

"Don't worry about it, I figured," says Taylor, hopping off the couch to put it away, glancing back towards Quenton, "We all got things with our powers, I guess. Just forgive me if I ever do weird cat shit around you in return, okay?" The student puts it away in the case and slots the case back in the super secret stashing location.

"Well. I'll forgive you. I can't ask you to forgive me if I make a mistake with mine, I can only hope." Quenton nods his head a moment, wetting his lips before shifting on his feet as he rises too. And then he closes his hand into a fist and offers it to Taylor. "We'll be alright, yeah?"

Taylor seems to study the offered fist for a moment before offering a fuzzy fist bump, thinking that's what the gesture is for, "Yeah, for sure." The feline student nods once and says, "Have a good night, Q," heading towards the door.

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