2011-05-23: Dealing

Players:

Daisuke_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg

Summary: Daisuke asks if Shane's alright, she assures him she's fine.

Date: May 23, 2011

Log Title: Dealing

Rating: PG


Xavier Mansion - Quad

There is a square side walk of pavement with a nice grassy area in the middle with a few stone benches and trees along the corners. The pavement leads to the paths to the grounds of the school, the Dining Hall in Xavier's and the Ramsey Dormitories. It's not particularly large but it's a nice place for students and teachers to relax and enjoy the outdoors.


Early evening, and plopped onto one of the benches is Shane, cheap $6 earbuds stuffed into her ears, laptop throwing a faint, sallow light on her face. While it gives her a washed-out, unhealthy look, it *does* have the benefit of muting and softening the dark rings under her eyes, and turning her bilious green hair into something gentler on the eyes. Now and again, she taps a key, presumably reading something.

Trekking in from the area of the Japanese Gardens is Daisuke. He's got a large drawing pad tucked under one arm and a small back pack in the other. He's got a few smears of a faint coloured paint on his face and clothes as he heads for the main building. Upon spotting Shane he goes to give her small wave and drops his backpack in the process, water colours and paintbrushes spilling out of it. "I'm such a klutz sometimes." He mutters.

While normally the sight of someone passing would merit little to no response, Shane can't help but look up as the backpack is dropped. Lifting her head in a casual California greeting, she pulls one earphone out, loosing an audible (and likely ear-shattering, to anyone else) blast of Love is a four letter word! And never spoken here! Love is a four letter word! Here in this prison! before the music is paused. There's a moment's pause, after, as though the girl is sifting through options and expectations, before her quiet, sullen voice is heard. "…Want a hand?"

"Sure, I think a paint brush rolled not to far from where you are." Daisuke says as he starts checking the paints to make sure they didn't crack before putting them back into his backpack. "What were you listening to?" He asks curiously since the loud music peaked a bit of his interest.

"Metallica," Shane grunts, setting her laptop to the side and leaning over to snag the brush, holding it out. Apparently, that's all the answer Daisuke gets, as the girl doesn't seem the sort to go into detail. As she sits back up, the plainness of her clothing is noticed; black t-shirt, jeans a size too big, and slip-ons, rather a dramatic change from the lavishly intricate cosplay seen before."

"That's actually one band I kinda know. I haven't heard too much by them but I've heard their drummer is really good." Daisuke says taking the brush from her and putting it in his bag with a bit of a sheepish look on his face. "Thanks." He says brushing his hair back with a hand. He then looks at Shane for a second and tilts his head. "No Harijuku style today?"

"He's a cracked-out asshole," Shane says, lifting a shoulder and looking down at herself. "…Yeah. Gave it up." And with that, the laptop goes back on her lap, shoulders hunching slightly.

Daisuke raises his eyebrows in surprise by that. "Oh." Is all he can respond in regards to the 'cracked-out asshole' comment. "Why did you give it up, it looked cool. But then I guess I'm a bit partial because I like that whole style."

"S'true," Shane grunts, pulling out the other earbud and coiling the cord up on her keyboard. "Got pitched into the fourth row during a sound test before a concert once. Was drunk and pissing off another band's bass player." She falls silent again, evidently weighting whether or not to avoid the question entirely, then just settles back on the bench, loosing a sigh through her nose. "…I blow up. Clothes don't. No point in wearing anything that matters."

Daisuke makes a face at that. "Well I guess I'm glad I don't really get into musicians personal lives that much and just more listen to music I like. But he does sound like a..cracked-out asshole from what you say." He then frowns at Shane and seems to think for a moment. "The school has unstable molecule fabric, why don't you see if they can let you use some for some of your outfits? I mean, your powers shouldn't stop you from wearing what you want."

"'S expensive. And a pain in the ass. S'fine for team uniforms, but costs too much to screw around with it," Shane says with a shrug. "Easier this way, don't have to feel bad about playing with school money."

"But what about you, it's your style." Daisuke asks as he tugs on the sleeve of his shirt a bit. "It just seems like it kinda sucks is all."

Shane shrugs, her expression saying that it's not anything important at all… a look she's had a long time and a lot of practice in, whether or not it's the truth. "Happens. I'll deal. No big anyway."

Daisuke nods again and adjusts his backpack over his shoulder, making sure it's closed this time. "I'll be heading to Japan in a few weeks once schools over to visit my Grandmother and visit my Mom and Brother's grave. I can pick up something cool for you in Tokyo if you like, just cause you're the first person I've met that was into that style. Besides me."

Shane blinks sharply, her mask slipping for a moment at the sheer unexpected kindness of Daisuke's offer. It's back in the space of two heartbeats, however, and she lifts a shoulder. "…If you want, sure. Don't have to go out of your way or anything."

"It's not out of my way. I love clothes shopping." Daisuke admits with a bit of an embarassed blush. "Especially in Tokyo, you don't get clothes like that over here really. I know it's not something you made but I don't mind bringing stuff back. Also I promise nothing pink and frilly."

Shane blinks again, a pained look flickering across her face, once again there and gone almost too quickly to be seen. "…No clothes. Um. …Please. Couldn't wear em."

"Okay, no clothes then." Daisuke says as he notices the look of panic that crosses her face and he just looks at her for a bit. "Is…is everything okay?" He asks a bit cautiously and timidly.

"…It's fine," Shane says after a moment's pause, looking back down at her laptop. "…Like I said. I'll deal."

Daisuke watches Shane for a bit and isn't sure how to ask her what he wants to. It takes a bit but he gathers his courage. "Shane…listen…if you need someone to talk to or something, I can be an ear and I won't judge. I've said that about things before, I'll deal but over all..I really couldn't deal. I don't mean to pry but…I'm worried about you." He thinks she might be having some sort of bully problem or something but he can't ignore the signs he's seeing.

Shane's mouth snaps shut around a heated reply, the green-haired girl taking a moment to bow her head, collecting herself. "…It's nothing," she says, finally, voice quiet. "Really. Nothing anyone needs to worry about. I just gotta deal."

Daisuke looks at Shane for a bit before looking down at his feet. "I've been there. Been in so much pain that I didn't know how to handle it. I thought I could handle it on my own but..it turned out I couldn't. I hated myself so much for the longest time. I…I still have my issues but I like to think I can handle them better then I did. I'm not saying you went through the same things or are going through them but..if you need a friend…."

Shane bites down on her lower lip, face flushing red, shoulders hunching deeply. "…Thanks. But I mean it. It's fine. Nothing new. Not a problem. Seriously." There's an edge to her voice, almost as if begging that the older teen please, please buy this line of obvious crap she's selling, because the alternative might end up worse. "'M not in trouble. Not having problems with anyone. Not doing anything wrong. It's fine. I'll deal."

Daisuke nods. "Sorry." He says as he looks behind him back at the building. "I'm not trying to play at psychiatrist and analyze you, I'm just…kinda worried. If you ever need help dealing….I don't mind being an ear. Have a good night Shane, I should get heading back in now."

"Yeah," Shane murmurs, poking an earbud into place. "Later." A finger taps the touchpad… with the cursor in the wrong place, as a completely different song is cued up. Dolls of voodoo are! Stuck with pins! One for each of us! And our sin— cut off, as the girl hurriedly shoves the earbud in, blushing hotly in mingled frustration and embarrassment… but, fortunately, the eye-watering volume is enough to keep the rest of the world from intruding on that embarassing moment.

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