Players:
Summary: Nicholas and Taylor clash leaving Shane in an awkward position.
Date: January 2, 2012
Log Title: Cats and Jerks
Rating: R
/Xavier Mansion - Art Room//
The Art Room has pictures of classic artists and small sculptures of famous pieces of art around the room. Any art supply you need may be found in this room, a large variety of paints, charcoals, markers, pencils, clays, canvases, easels, paper, and much more are accessible for the students. A large kelm is in one of the far corners of the room as well. On one side of the art room are a few sewing machines with a large variety of fabrics and sewing supplies for the students as well.
Early evening, and in one corner of the Art Room the sewing machine chatters to itself, patiently worked by a slight young girl with puke-green hair, shot through with neon-blue strands. The enormous cups of her armored earphones cover her ears, head bobbing slightly in time with the music as she smoothly pushes the thick red fabric through a pass on the machine, as content as she ever seems to be in school.
Peaking into his head into the room looking a bit like Pigpen is Nicholas. He's covered in dirt pretty much from head to toe and scowls for a second before spotting Shane. "I'm in the wrong building again for the dorms aren't I?" He says reluctantly.
Shane, her back mostly turned to the door and her headphones blotting out all sound, merely continues to sew, blissfully unaware that a dirt-covered student is talking to her.
Taylor enters from the hallways, carrying a few pairs of pants, some scrap fabric, and a very naked G.I Joe in one arm. The feline student is wearing pretty simple clothes, a long, baggy black t-shirt and a pair of equally saggy black pants. The pants are low enough to let the felinoid student's tail hang free. The teen pauses for a moment at seeing Nicholas, "No offense, but you need a shower, guy." Shane currently goes as unnoticed to Taylor as Nicholas to Shane.
Nicholas just throws up his hands in frustration as Shane doesn't answer and turns to find Taylor right in front of him. "No offense but you have a naked G.I. Joe doll under your arm and that's really creepy." He says in response to them sounding quite rude about it. "And thank you Captain Obvious, I know I need a shower, unlike some people I can't just lick myself clean."
The sewing machine shuts down with a loud *clack*, the needle pulled back up into place, and the remaining thread is deftly snipped and tied off. Pulling the ploth out, Shane gives the piece a shake, holding it up and rising from her chair to inspect what appears to be the back and side panels to a trenchcoat-sized cotton jacket. It's about then, that she notices the filthy Nicholas and the new kid at the other end of the room. Blinking, she pulls down her headphones, loosing an audible blast of HELLO NO ONE, HOW WILL I BE DOING NOTHING TILL TOMORROW! SOMETHING TOLD ME NO ONE CALLED! TO TELL ME NOTHING WILL BE HOME! P'HAPS I SHOULD NOT TA— before the iPod at her hip is turned off. "….Sup?" she says, voice guarded, puzzled.
Taylor stares for a few moments at Nicholas blankly before saying, "I don't fucking lick myself. I'm here to make some tail holes in a couple of pairs of pants, and to make an outfit for this little guy. Which works best if he's been, holy shit, stripped!" The furry teen gives an eyeroll and then looks towards Shane, raising a hand awkwardly, "Oh, hey. I'm new."
"What the hell is with all the cats around here." Nick grumbles as he looks over at Shane. "I thought I was in the building with the dorms, apparently not so…anyway new student, aka Captain Obvious, decided to oh so kindly point out that I need a shower because when I peaked in here I was expecting to see…well…not the fucking art room." He grumbles.
Shane glances at the doll, then the chair behind her, and steps away from her station. "….Just finished," she says, draping her project over one arm, the free hand waving vaguely in the chair's direction. Looking to Nicholas, she raises an eyebrow. "….Kay?"
"Oh, stop fucking complaining about cats being around here. I didn't choose to look like this, /I/ just want my /face/ back," says Taylor, ears folding back aggressively, "You don't need to such a fuckass, Lieutenant Colonel Fuckass." The feline peers over towards Shane again, and seems less agitated for a moment, replying, "Oh, um, thank you. So long as I've got the fucking title, I guess you sew?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, I don't fuck ass." Nick says to Taylor rolling his eyes with a long sigh. "Though I imagine there must be one hell of a litter box for you all." He says before sitting down in one of the chairs and resting his head on the table. "What are you making?" He asks Shane turning his attention away from Taylor.
"…Yeah. Cosplay," Shane replies, apparently falling back on very simple sentences in response to the explosion of drama that greeted her on emerging from her work. Looking to Nick, she lifts a shoulder. "…Jacket. F'spring."
"No, no, it's one word, Lieutenant Colonel. I'm not saying that you fuck ass, I am saying you /are/ a fuckass. There's a distinction there, and… you're obviously never gonna get that. And I /don't/ use a /litter box/," says Taylor, giving a resigned eyeroll and then sitting down, "Cosplay's pretty cool. I've seen really cool stuff. I don't usually make big outfits like that, I make things for my dolls… Kind of lame, but a hobby."
"So do you just dig a hole outside then?" Nick says to her raising an eyebrow. "And you're right, it is lame." He really doesn't care what Taylor does just that they're getting to him so he's just snapping right back. "Oh. Do you make a lot of your own clothes?"
"S'fine. Works," Shane says at Taylor's self-deprecating summary of their own hobby, scooting out of the feline's way and allowing unfettered access to the machines. To Nick, she turns a guarded look, glancing once back at Taylor, then shrugging again. "Do now, more. I guess."
"I use a fucking toilet, you imbecile. God, I was told I wouldn't have to deal with this kind of shit here. 'Har har, litterbox, you want some catnip, be a good kitty, have some meow mix, need a scratching post, gotta get you spayed or neutered, want a tummy rub, I'll get you some yarn, ohhh are you going to follow the red dot.' I get it. I look like a fucking freaky cat thing. I've already heard it all, it's tired and it's only been a fucking /week/. I didn't choose this," says Taylor, fur bristling and ears folding back, now refocusing on the fabric scraps, which are actually just previously cut pieces of fabric that the ocelot student is now sewing together. "Should've known people are the same everywhere you go."
"Well I didn't choose to be here or this life either so fuck you." Nicholas snaps to Taylor. "And whoever told you you wouldn't have to deal with shit here lied to you, welcome to the real world Spotty." He says without much feeling behind his words. "Well if you ever need a cat friend to bitch about me to, I'm sure my roommate would love to oblige you."
"….Okay y'know what screw this," Shane explodes, clomping toward the door. "'F I'd'a known people'd be dropping fifty-emoton drama bombs all over the place, I'd'a stayed home another day." Pausing in the doorway, she rounds on Nicholas. "Son of a fucking crap, Nick, next time you get lost? PULL THE BEEHIVE OUT OF YOUR ASS, it's getting old." Shaking her head, she wheels around, heading out the door with one final "…Fuckass."
"I figured I'd have to deal with shit, just not this 'oh hey your mutation makes you look awful' mutant crap, from other fucking mutants," says Taylor. The feline student's ears perk up and start twitching at Shane's speaking, and Taylor seems kind of at a loss for what to do until she's walking away, standing up and looking about to say something to the girl, but then seems out of words to say, for a moment seeming a bit guilty.
Nicholas stands up. "Shane, I'll leave." He says getting up and heading towards the door, but he says one last thing to Taylor before leaving. "I never said you're mutation looks awful." Then Nick pushes past Shane so he can head out leaving the two to their sewing.
Shane stumbles aside, her much lighter frame combining with heavy, heavy boots to create an interesting exercise in juggling your center of balance. Once she finally recovers, she shoots a poisonous glare toward the boy's back, and clumps her way back into the art room, muttering dire and creative imprecations under her breath. "…Can't believe I just said that to him," she says, finally, scrubbing a hand through her Technicolor hair. "….Anyway…. yeah."
Taylor peers back to where Nicholas heads off to and says to Shane, "Uhh, sorry about dropping the emotons and shit all over the place. I was just looking to get this guy fitted for a suit here… I just noticed that other kid was dirty, I was kinda curious." The feline student considers for a moment and says, "Aww, shit, his mutant thing isn't something that makes him dirty all the time is it? I'd feel like a tool…"
Shane lifts a shoulder, unfolding her project and spreading it out on a nearby table. "Neh. He just gets lost. Like, Ryoga-class lost. Real sensitive 'bout it too. ….Bout a lotta things. Dunno why. Prob'ly somethin' horrible. Get lots of that 'round here. Can't throw a brick without giving half a dozen kids flashbacks."
Nodding, Taylor says, "I guess. I haven't been here for long enough to know… I'm just tired of all these cat jokes. I don't feel like a cat. I need to figure out a way to fix this, the way I look." The feline student looks over towards Shane and says, "What are you working on right now?"
Shane lifts up the project by its collar. "Last Comic-Con, didn't have the build f'what I wanted t'show off. So, screwed around a lil'. Made somethin' new. Kinda liked it. So gonna see 'f maybe I c'n make real clothes f' when it ain't so damn cold. Dunno how people stand it, here. Winter sucks. This? Jus' gonna be a sleeveless jacket kinda thing. Long in back. Maybe I'll embroider somethin', Iunno."
Taylor says, "Oh. Yeah, that's pretty cool. Some embroidery would look good on that. I'm going to see about making a few tail holes in some of the pants that I have. Not the good ones, since I hope that I can turn back, but it's better to be comfortable for now…"
Shane peers at the pants Taylor wears, brow furrowing. "…Gonna want a snap 'r somethin'. Dunno 'bout tails, but, can't see havin' t'pull a chunk 'a your spine through a hole bein' really comfy."
"Well… yeah, I Was thinking of a button. Something that'll hold really good," says Taylor, looking backwards. "Hurt like crazy when that thing grew. I'm gonna try to avoid injuring it any more than I have to."
Shane lifts a shoulder. "Coulda been worse. Only had t'deal with it once." As though to illustrate, she lifts up a huge, stompy boot that seems to have been teched out, letting it clump back to the floor. "…'F y'gonna use a button, y'gonna want somethin' stronger'n just thread. Figger th'tail's gonna move a lot, right? Don't wannit t'break 'n catch you with y'pants down."
"Well… I'm just making the button holes here. I'm gonna hand sew for actually putting the buttons on…" says Taylor, considering that for a moment. "I was just going to use a lot of thread. Not sure what else t'use to put it in. Like I said, I'm used to little stuff. You'd probably know better than me."
Shane pauses for a second, chewing on the inside of her cheek. After a moment, she nods to herself, crossing back to the machine to open up a plastic toolbox-shaped object on a nearby table. After digging around for a bit, she holds up a spool, nodding. "This'll do. 'S kinda heavy, you'll want a bigger needle than usual— actually here." Another moment of digging, and a noticeably heavy, sharp needle is produced. "Jeans're a bitch to sew through with a normal needle. 'S the biggest one I got that won't leave holes. Thread's twenty weight, three-ply. Use enough, 'n th'only way it'll break's if the Hulk gives you a wedgie."
Taylor peers at the tools that Shane's offered, and then nods, "Oh, yeah, that's probably good to have. I don't have this sort've thing, but I should maybe pick some up. Thanks a bunch, I really appreciate this." The ocelotty person does wince at the idea of being given a wedgie by the Hulk. "Sure hope that never happens."
Shane snorts quietly. "Shit, if it did? You'd have bigger problems'n loose pants anyway." The slight young mutant looks Taylor up and down, brow furrowing for a moment, then with what seems to be a soft, resigned sigh, sticks her hand out. "…Shane."
Taylor chuckles softly when Shane suggests that bigger problems would present themselves, acknowledging that it's a rather true statement. The feline looks up from the doll sewing project when Shane speaks her name. "Oh, my name's Taylor. Uh, nice meeting you, Shane."
Shane looks down at her hand, then back up, raises an eyebrow and shrugs, stuffing it in her pocket. "…Taylor. Mn. You just sew for GI Joes 'n Barbies, or you got other dolls?"
"Well, I've got like the anime sorta dolls, too, you know. I like getting dolls and action figures, making outfits for them, making scenes. I've been doing it since I was a kid, I guess," says Taylor, shrugging a shoulder, "Kept my occupied."
"Always loved anime," Shane says quietly, sitting back against the edge of a table. "Watchin' Sailor Moon when I was a kid, 'n Akira, 'n D… Thought th' clothes were so cool. So… started makin' 'em. Dad keeps my Husqy 'n my sewing machine at his house, f' when I go back. Don't got the room here, so, jus' use th' school's stuff."
"Oh, Sailor Moon? I watched that when I was a kid, too… I actually have a set for them, I've got Sailor Moon, and Tuxedo Mask, and the first other four scouts…" says Taylor, smiling at that thought, "I made them a little set, yeah. It's pretty sweet."
Shane snorts, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards for a moment. "…Sounds cool, actually…"
"Well, I sure think so, and it was a fun project to work on, working from a pretty plain doll up to a finished piece, and then putting everything together… it's pretty cool. I could show it to you when I unpack," says Taylor, pausing from the sewing for a moment, "If y'want."
Shane looks down for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest, as she ponders the invitation. "….Yeah okay," she says after a brief silence. "…Bring a couple costumes when I do."
"Yeah, that sounds like it'd be pretty cool," says Taylor, smiling slightly, not that it really looks like a smile. More of a feline contented look. "I'd love to see the stuff you have, and if I recognize any of it."
"Hope so," SHane mutters with a quiet snort, "otherwise I suck a whole lot more than I thought I did."
"Oh, uh, I didn't mean it like that, I just mean… like, recognize the source material, I guess," says Taylor, pretty awkwardly.
Shane nods. "Thought so. Most of it's pretty easy. Prolly bring over Vincent 'n Rinoa."
Taylor nods and says, "Well, I'd probably recognize those ones, yeah. That sounds cool… I like playing, like, JRPGs and stuff… So I'd recognize those kinds of things…"
Shane nods once, shortly. "Rec room's got a 360. Keep mosta my games there, simpler that way. So, plenty 'a JRPGs t'play, here."
Taylor's ears perk slightly at the mention of plenty of JRPGs to play, "Oh, that sounds cool. I might add my games to the pool. In case other people want to play what I've got… I mean, most people here seem okay. Better than where I'm from, at least. Not that I've met many."
Shane lifts a shoulder. "There's a few dickheads here, yeah…. but mosta th' kids're just broken, one way or another. Figure out their damage, easier to let shit slide. Like Q. You ain't met him, but you'll prolly hate 'im when you do. Thinks he's gotta be that guy. Sucks shit at it, though."
"I guess I'll keep that in mind. I'm used to being the kid that kind of sits at the bottom of the totem pole. I like to be ignored, I have a short fuse for being pushed around and insulted. Which is probably why I made a poor impression on the Lieutenant Colonel," says Taylor, peering out towards the door. "I didn't mean anything by telling him he was dirty, but whatever."
Shane grunts. "…Me too. But don't worry; *nodoby* makes a good impression on Nick. 'S just part 'a his damage, s'all."
"I guess," says Taylor, shrugging lightly, "He seemed really hostile. I mean, shit, I guess I didn't make things much better, but I have a hard time letting stuff slide. If it's part of his damage, well… must be some damage."
"Guess so," Shane says, shrugging. "Ain't my business, so, gonna hafta get the story from him if y'want it. Ain't much better myself, most th'time, though. Like y'said; used t'bein' the one gettin' shit on, rather just be left alone. …'Cept that didn't turn out too well f'me, so…" Here, the neon-haired girl shrugs. "Workin' on this bein' social shit."
"Yeah, I figured, new start… I'm gonna try not to be bottom rung, here. I mean, like I said, being left alone made me happy. People liked to shit on me too, which is just total bullshit, 'cause I'm pretty fucking harmless. Well, except one guy, but he ditched me after seeing me like this," says Taylor, brow furrowed for a moment at that, "Whatever."
Shane snorts, her disgust audible. "Fucker. Anyway. Teachers're cooler'n lotta kids give'm credit for. Ms. Frost, like. Retardedly scary, loves t'act like she got all the answers…" She lifts a shoulder for a moment, and then one of her oversized boots, wiggling the toe. "…Still comes through though, when it counts, I guess."
"Oh, those boots look pretty cool… are they something the teachers gave you for some reason?" says Taylor, head tilted lightly, "A girl here told me they sometimes give students like hologram shit. I could go for some of that. I just want to recognize my reflection again."
Shane bobs her head. "My power is I blow up," she says, shrugging. "'F I'm not tryin' to, boots suck the energy up or whatever, and slam it into these batteries." Pressing a release at the heel, she slides out what looks for all the world like a modified iPhone battery, holds it up to be seen, then plugs it back in. "…'N since useta be I could only blow up when I was pissed, liked sayin' my music's powered by hate, y'know? …Anyway. Yeah. Ask Ms. Frost, probably you'll get one for when you go out 'n stuff."
"Yeah, I went out to get a bit of new clothes, suited for me and stuff. I went to the mutant town place, but the way over was filled by cross-eyed looks," says Taylor, looking a bit annoyed, more obvious due to feline nature. "I'll keep that in mind, I'll ask her. And yeah, sounds like those boots were a good idea…"
Shane shrugs. "I'm just happy she didn't mind makin' em look okay, m'self," she says, letting the boot drop. "…Well that, 'n th' clothes. Fun fact; if your power is bein' a human grenade? Gives all kindsa new meanin' to 'wardrobe malfunction.'"
"Oh man, yeah, I can totally see that," says Taylor, making a bit of a face, "That must have been pretty awkward the first couple of times… At least I got to keep my clothes on. Or… well, I wore a hospital gown for most of the change."
"Awkward's a word for it," Shane murmurs, looking down at her hands. "But wasn't too big th'first time. … …Cos I had other things t'worry 'bout, like th'school freaking out over a human bomber in a school, mebbe thinkin' now she's th'Angel of Columbine or some stupid shit. ….So yeah. Clothes weren't th'big thing, first time it happened."
"Oh, yeah, that was probably really scary… it sounds like becoming a mutant is pretty unpleasant for most people… I hope you were okay after that, or at least, you know, kind of okay," says Taylor.
Shane snorts her disdain, shaking her head. "Psh. Naw. School damn near tore itself apart over me. Hard t'be left alone when you got half th'school 'n their kids screamin' t'have you expelled or whatever, 'n other half screamin' 'bout how I'm people too, 'n nobody once asked what *I* thought, right? ….Then th'jocks went 'n solved th'problem for everyone, so, y'know, whatever."
"Oh, man, that sounds fucked up. Sorry that happened. I guess I'm kind of glad for most of my life, at least my parents did ask what I thought. I mean, the schools and other students did, but at least some people did," says Taylor, considering.
Shane lifts a shoulder. "I love my parents… all four of'm. … …But they didn't ask either… too busy being pissed about what they heard, 'n couldn't believe I'd ever do half the shit that got slung around. ….Least it meant Dad sued the *shit* out everyone, while I was in the hospital. Prolly gonna win, too."
"I love my parents too. They're having a hard time with everything's that happened, but… they'll come around," says Taylor. It almost sounds like a question rather than the statement it's meant to be. "Anyways, good thing that they at least watched out for you, even if they didn't listen."
Shane grunts. "They tried…. last Christmas sucked, but… Guess it helps I got a handle on things too, y'know? Now they don't gotta worry 'bout me blowin' up my room in my sleep, or whatever. Iunno… sounds like your parents're all right, should end up okay I guess."
"Yeah, I think so. They should be okay, I'm their only child, you know? They've gotta love me. It's me or disposable income, and I like to think I've got more personality," decides Taylor. "But yeah, not being under the threat of possible explosion… probably eases tension and stuff."
"Something like that," Shane replies, lifting up the proto-jacket, giving it a shake. "Anyway… should get back. Don't got homework yet, thank crap, but 'm pretty tired. Case y'like it, there's this kid, Sage, he's never seen TV outside of 50s England, been showin' him Miyazaki flicks. 'F you wanna watch, s'cool."
"Oh, yeah, like Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, that guy?I wouldn't mind checking it out, yeah," says Taylor, getting that kind of contented look again that suggests a smile. "But yeah, have a good night. I'll see you around."
"Later," Shane says, bundling up her project and slinging it over her shoulder. "'Case no one else said it yet; Welcome to Mutant High. Hope y'got a helmet." And with that, the slight young student is out the door, and on to her dorm room.
