2011-12-07: Defying Gravity


Quenton_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg Warlock_icon.jpg

Summary: Quenton and Shane meet Warlock, then have a heart-to-heart

Date: December 7, 2011

Log Title: Defying Gravity

Rating: PG-13

Xavier Mansion - Classroom One

The classroom is set up for a variety of different classes to be held here at different times. The standard desks sit in rows, with a teachers desk in front and a white board in the front of the class. No particular teacher has a set classroom; they rotate the classrooms as classes are necessary.

With most of his classes over for the day save this free period Warlock asked the previous teacher in the room if he could use it as it's free this period, he's working on a side media project and wants sometime to work on it without his room mate coming in and out of the room. He's dressed in dark bluish jeans, a black long sleeved shirt (with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows), red/brown belt and red/brown sort of jedi-like boots, his laptop is set up and linked to a camera at the front of the room, currently he's frowning at something on the laptop screen.

"What's wrong, Obi Wan Kenobi? Can't get through to Liam Neeson?" wonders Quenton, who has just walked in and opted to lean up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. The red eyed boy is clad in a white long sleeved shirt, white synthetic jeans, and even white sneakers, looking less angrier than usual, though occasionally his upper lip twitches at the corner. He glances towards the camera a moment, eyeing it warily. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

It's been some time since Shane has been seen outside of class; the incident with the Danger Room, apparently, made her skittish eough to keep herself squirreled away out of sight unless absolutely necessary, changing hiding places out daily. Though it appears the pattern is brought to an abrupt end, as with a rustle of taffeta, she slinks into the once-empty classroom, decked out in bubblegum-hued hair and an ornate ruffled maid costume, armored earphones clamped firmly on the sides of her head. She clumps a few steps into the room, laptop held under one arm, before looking up and seeing people. For a moment, she simply stands there, looking from Warlock to Quenton, then sighs, pausing her iPod and pulling the headphones down around her neck. "…Hey."

Warlock jumps slightly when Quenton speaks before frowning in confusion having forgot what boots he'd opted to wear that morning, "Obi Wan… oh right the boots, some of the prequels my have been bad but the boots were cool"he hits a couple of keys on his laptop, "The camera's for something of a project i'm working on, it's still in the early stages…"m he stops when Shane comes into the room, "Oh, errm hey", he looks to Quenton to see if he knows her.

Apparently he does, because when Quenton glances over to her, a mixture of emotions crosses his face. First, it lights up, as if he's happy to see her. Then he's suddenly irritated, for one reason or the other, and he glances off back towards Warlock, offering her a, "Yep," in greeting. "I have… something for you, or whatever, but it's in my fucking room." He leans off the wall carefully, glancing over her outfit, before glancing over to Warlock, then at his own. "No one in this school dresses normal," he decides.

Shane rolls a Hello Kitty head around in her free hand, squeezing it now and again, responding to Warlock's greeting with an indifferent grunt. Quenton's changing emotions first has the slight young student puzzled, and she scoots back half a step when he looks irritated… And then flinches at his final comment, cheeks going ashen for a moment. "….Fine," she says after a brief silence, clomping toward one of the desks at the far back corner and dropping herself into it, visibly seething.

Ok… major atmosphere change going on, Warlock just sort of shifts uncomfortably while trying to get a read of the situation, "So you guys know each other?, oh!, is this Sage?", Quenton told him he should meet whomever Sage is, not a very common name, could be either a boy or a girl.

A derisive snort is Quenton's initial response. The tall mutant glances over to Warlock, lip twitching a moment, before he finally speaks; "No. That's not Sage. Sage is my room mate. She's Shane." And then a glance back over towards Shane. "Where the hell have you been? I haven't seen you since the Danger Room issue. It's like you've just been avoiding everybody. I didn't fucking look."

"…Avoiding everybody," comes Shane's curt response, a note of challenge in it. Without looking up, she opens her laptop, digging into her bag and pulling out a USB-capable console controller and unwinding the cord.

Warlock nods, "Oh yeah, right room mate, gotta be a guy then, sorry", watching the attitude being thrown back and forth between Quenton and Shane he plays with afew more programs on his laptop not really sure what to say or even really getting whats going on.

"Oh, Sage is more of a pretty little princess than everyone else in this school, trust me," replies Quenton, while his head tilts at Shane's response to him. "Right. Well. We had a fucking da -" he cuts himself off, shooting those red eyes to Warlock, then clears his throat. "Date with the television. The television's disappointed."

Shane's eyes dart Warlock-wards as well, brows drawing down. "…Yeah. Tried. Couldn't make it. Sorry." The Hello Kitty head is given a sharp squeeze, her shoulders hunching. "Seriously. Sorry, okay?"

Warlock is able to see though Quenton atempt at a cover up and he can't help but frown in confusion, these two had a date?, such a cheerful couple, "So Sage is a boy but very camp?", well that could be what Quenton means by 'pretty little princess', "Errm, do you two want meto leave you alone?"

"Very camp? What?" Quenton wonders, jerking his eyes towards Warlock a moment, before shifting on his feet, lifting a hand and rubbing at his nape. "And why would you need to leave us alone? It's not like we're fucking… doing stuff that requires us to be alone." He glances back at Shane, before shrugging his shoulders at her slightly. "Right. Well. I have something for you. That Sage has."

"S'fine," Shane says at Warlock, half a heartbeat after Quenton's much more wordy denial. Glancing up at the taller mutant, Shane nods fractionally. "…'Kay then."

Warlock shrugs, "Well you called him a pretty little princess, i wasn't sure what you meant by that, he crouches himself down by the laptop again, "Ok ok, sorry for suggesting it", feeling a little uncomfortable he kind hoped they had asked him to leave while they talked.

"I'm confused," Quenton replies to Warlock, eyeing him at his discomfort. He's silent for a long time, before shrugging his shoulders, flicking his red eyes over towards Shane. He opens his mouth to speak to her, falls silent, and instead wonders to Warlock, "What's this project crap?"

"He's saying he thought you said Sage was gay," Shane pipes up from behind her laptop screen, the sounds of her game drifting out of her earphone cups; apparently their default setting is loud enough to hurt most people.

Warlock shakes his head, "I didn't mean gay, i meant camp, the two arn't the same thing, you get camp straight guys and uncamp gay guys", he shrugs when asked about his project, "Just a media project i'm working on, nothing that'll really interest you", he doesn't really feel like sharing considering he's started off refuring to it as 'crap'.

"I mean… Sage likes to camp?" Quenton tries out, before glancing over at the camera. Then back at Warlock. "Like, trying to make a movie or some shit like that?" He glances over towards Shane, then grunts, moving over to stand some ways behind her and peer over her at the game in the laptop.

Shane rolls her eyes, as on her screen a slightly-old-school RPG fight is taking place; by the look of it, the game matches the screenshots on the back of her Radiata Stories case. "…Fine then. Girly. Close enough for high school. He ain't, anyway. Just pacifist. Danger Room scares the crap out of him."

"Well sort of, it's a partial video diary, sort of documentry thing, partly it's to show my nan i'm doing ok, partly just a referance for myself so i can focus on having a life here and just keeping track of this place and partly cause i'm planning on taking Media next year and this'll be a head start on my main project, i'm gonna recond some classes take pictures of the school, ask if i can take footage from the dangerous room, things like that", he frowns at Shane, "What's wrong with this Sage guy being a pacifist?"

"Huh. That's weird," Quenton murmurs, nodding his head while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Just as long as you don't, like, film me too much or some crap." His frown at Shane and words to her cause him to abrubtly snap, "She didn't say there was anything wrong with it."

"Nothin'," Shane answers, glancing over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow up at Quenton. "Just means it sucks to be him once a week when powers training time runs around. Useta hate gym, same way."

Warlock is about to agree and say he won't film Quenton when he suddenly snaps, "Sorry, i didn't mean to imply she did", he looks back round to Shane, "If he doesn't want to fight can't they find a way to train him by a non-violent means or do they only train to fight here?"

Quenton glances over towards Shane, and seems to shy away at her eyebrow raise, averting his red eyed gaze, lip twitching as he keeps his gaze to the wall, crossing his arms even more tightly against each other across his chest.

Shane shrugs. "Dunno. S'not even really all that violent, half th'time. S'just like sports. S'just, Sage grew up in like this hippie commune that didn't get outta the forties. So there's just too much he doesn't get, 'n doesn't wanna. Hard on him sometimes, cos of that." Quenton gets another, slightly more puzzled look, but it seems she'd prefer not to get into it at the moment.

Warlock nods, "Yeah thats gotta be hard, coming from a place like that and being suddenly forced into all this, has he got anyone helping him deal with it all?", huh, it's kinda like that guy time traveled, must be weird, "So you really do get people from all over the place here?, must learn a lot".

"Not really. Most of the teachers here suck," grumbles Quenton, shaking his head. "More of the students teach each other crap than they do," he grunts. He glances to the side at Shane a moment, before just shrugging.

"Mnh. Some of th'teachers're okay," Shane murmurs, as one of the characters on screen is made to perform his version of a Limit Break. "Ms. Frost'd be fine if she didn't act like she had all the answers. But whatever."

"Whatever," echoes Quenton, watching Shane's RPG character, tilting his head to the side a moment. "What the heck was that?" he wonders to her now.

"Volty Blast, they call it," Shane grunts. "Basically a limit break with extra cheese. Chick from Valkyrie Profile's a character you can get, tryin' t'find her now. S' a good game. Thanks. Been playin' this a lot since last month."

"Volty Blast?" Quenton asks, furrowing his brow. "That's worst then just a fireball spell called… Fire." He glances to Shane's face a moment, then clears his throat, nodding his head a little. "Right."

Shane lifts a shoulder. "Y'get used to it. Lotta games 'round here had weird names f'r basically the same thing Final Fantasy 7 did. Got the Hyper Artes in Legaia, Soul Crush in Valkyrie Profile, goes on 'n on. 'S just a thing."

"Right, no, I get that," Quenton murmurs, shrugging his shoulders again, awkwardly watching Shane as she plays. "I like some of them. Well," he trails off. "I liked some of them. Lots of these I can't play anymore."

"Y'I remember," Shane grunts, eyes locked on the screen. "'Cos of y'r strength, right? Yeah, that sucks… maybe see if y'c'n get a Kinect for Christmas 'r something? Children of Eden looked pretty intense, don't need to push buttons for it."

"Well, I mean, I wasn't trying to remind you. I was just…" Quenton trails off, shrugging his shoulders, glancing up to the ceiling now, wetting his lips needlessly.

"I know," Shane says quietly. "S'okay. Figure somethin' out." The frail student's eyes dart toward Warlock briefly, then back at Quenton. "…Wanna talk, later. Ain't gonna mean t'come across like a bitch. Prob'ly gonna, though. S'just… serious stuff. Need t'know a few things."

Quenton furrows his brow while he stares at the ceiling, before shrugging his shoulders a fraction, now, dropping his red eyes back on Shane. "I think I already know what's what, but… yeah, I guess I'll have to face it sometime." He scratches at his cheek now, nails digging into skin. "So, yeah. Whenever you want."

"No," Shane says, sounding slightly pained. "Y'don't. Trust me… s'not somethin' you're gonna be able t'get into y'r head easy. If y'can. …But figure better t'jus' talk about it before it slaps you 'cross the face."

"We'll see," Quenton says miserably, glancing over to Warlock a moment, before shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. "Wouldn't matter either way. I can take it."

Shane falls silent for a moment, frowning across the room at the silent Warlock. "…C'mon," she murmurs. "May's well get it over with. Hey," she says a touch louder, shutting her laptop. "We're gonna take off, 'n stop botherin' you. Have fun with your video stuff." Uplugging her AC adapter, she bundles the cords up and tucks the laptop into her free hand. "'S find someplace else."

Quenton glances aside at Warlock, just pulling a hand from his jeans pocket and idly lifting it in a pseudo-wave. "Have fun with your diary," he follows with.

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.

Leading Quenton out to the Quad, Shane makes her way to the stone benches, dropping into one and sighing. "Aight… Gotta ask, 'cos it's been bugging me. 'N I know it's a stupid question, but there's a reason. … …..Just, um…. what're you after, outta me?"

Quenton remains standing, just shifting on his feet and then lifting a hand to rub at his nape, shrugging his shoulders again, unable to bring himself to look at Shane. Steam rises from his body, oddly, but he isn't angry. "I… just. I don't know. You're awesome." He shrugs again, awkwardly. "That sounds fucking stupid coming from me. I just… it's silly. You make my heart skip like a Japanese schoolgirl. You irritate the hell out of me at times, but you're… my smile. And stuff."

Shane nods slowly, letting a quiet breath out through her nose. "Quenton… y'know what paranoia's really like?"

"I do, but it's probably not the kind you're thinking about," Quenton grunts, just moving towards the wall and letting his body fall limply against it.

"Yeah," Shane says, "it's like… you know half the shit that comes into your brain is stupid. Like, see a couple people talkin' quiet. Most people'd be goin' 'Wonder what they're sayin'?' and I'm all 'What're they sayin' about *me?*' And it's stupid, and you know it, but there's just that little thought… What if you're wrong? What if it's *not* stupid? What if Mason *did* want to help, an' he just chickened out 'cos he was scared? …THat's one I had a lot in the hospital, 'n I *hated* him for like months after. So I hear what you're sayin'… … …But I can't help it. What if you're lying? What if you're just waiting for me to just say 'screw it' and give it a shot, then… Iunno what." Slumping against the bench, she looks up at the darkening sky, a look of bone-deep weariness crawling over her face. "…It's tirin', Q… That's why I'm tryin' t'not be alone anymore. …Cos I'm just… *Tired.*"

"I am waiting for you to just say screw it and give it a shot," Quenton mutters, lifting his hand and knuckling his forehead, but at least he's not smashing it into his temple. "I'm not lying. Obviously, that's just spoken word, and who gives a shit about that? But…" He wipes his mouth a moment, then exhales shallowly, shrugging one shoulder. "If you decide not to, that's fine, too. I can take it." He follows Shane's gaze to the sky a moment. "I'm sorry you're tired. If there's anything I can do, to reassure you? I'd take it in a heartbeat. I'd do it in a heartbeat." He's quiet a moment, before wondering, quietly, "You afraid of heights?"

Shane laughs quietly, an old, bitter sound, shaking her head. "Yeah… but that's the problem, innit? Can't be reassured 'f I don't *trust* you, y'know? It ain't personal… I don't trust anyone. *Especially* people who act like they care about me, an' got all the answers. I keep waitin' for *anyone* t'pull some asshole trick, just so life c'n get back to normal, y'know…?" Scrubbing a hand over her face, she looks up at Quenton, raising an eyebrow. "…You gonna drop me?" There's a touch of wry humor in her voice, as though it's a question not meant to be entirely serious… but it does underscore her problem nicely.

"If I drop you, the teachers will all come and put the stomp on me, so we can say that I won't because you know. Selfish reasons," Quenton murmurs, shrugging his shoulders as he stares at Shane a moment, before jerking his gaze away. "But we don't have to go up if you don't wanna." He rolls his tongue in his cheek before chuckling bitterly. "Every couple, which I'm not saying that's what we are, have like, you know, little quirks. You don't trust me." His nose wriggles a moment. "Probably never will. Hell, part of the problem it's taken me so long to talk to you like this is because I don't trust me. Everything I touch gets destroyed. But this isn't about me, it's about you. So.. if you don't want to take the chance, it's fine. We can just… be whatever it is we are. If that's too much, I'll just fuck off and leave you alone."

"…Never had a boyfriend before," Shane says quietly. "Scares the shit outta me, thinkin' someone wants t'be one. Know I'm gonna fuck it up, somehow. …But I guess I gotta knock it off sometime, huh? Just…" Raking a hand through her hair, she stands, looking up at Quenton's red eyes. "…Just… don't make me sorry, okay…? Kinda wanna be wrong… just once, y'know?"

Quenton shifts slightly, turning his eyes back to Shane's, then up to her bubblegum hair, and finally sweeping his gaze over her outfit, as if taking her in a moment. "Trust me, cupcake," he murmurs, using the name he's used the first time they met, before he just holds out his hands to her, palms up. "I want nothing more, ever, then to prove you wrong."

Shane snorts, the name actually amusing her this time around. Moving closer, she reaches out, taking hold of his wrists. "…So do I," she says, as fear and hope begin to war in her eyes. "…Shania, by the way… 'S my real name. Shania Morgenstern."

Quenton wets his lips again, before urging her closer as gently as he could, pulling his arms closer to himself slowly. "Shania, huh? Do you prefer Shane, Shania, or cupcake?" he wonders, teasing, before clearing his throat, murmuring, for some odd reason, "Arms up." The boy glances back up at the sky, as if considering something, before his red eyes fall on her again.

"Shane," the girl says, raising her arms as directed. "Hate country, hated the kids teasing me about it, got into too many fights about it. Shane'll do." Chewing on her lower lip, the girl stands, clearly terrified of whatever may happen, a dozen possibilities flickering through her head, each more terrible than the last… and yet she remains.

Quenton wraps his arms around Shane's middle, but never actually embraces her. He steps closer slightly to do it, exhaling quietly, before nodding, raising his arms just underneath her own. "Alright. Think that should be good," he whispers quietly. "You can… relax as much as you could. Arms down, I mean. Or just… grab onto my neck and hold on tight. And Shane. Shane'll do."

Shane glances down at the ground, then up… and then over to the bench. "…Think my stuff'll be okay?" she asks, her arms dropping to encircle Quenton's neck, face turned away in a patently unsuccessful bid to hide the flush rising on her cheeks.

Shooting Shane's laptop a glance, he admits, "It'll be better down here than up there." He watches Shane's face turn away and can't help the faint upwards curve of his lips, before he begins to rise, and the reason for his odd embrace becomes apparent as he all but cradles her in his arms, exhaling quietly. "Might not be a good idea to look down, though," he whispers in her ear as they begin to elevate to where the second story begins.

"….No problems there," Shane says faintly, her arms tightening aound Quenton's neck, the slight young student pulling herself close, resting her head against his chest. "So you can just do this whenever? Like Superman?"

"Well. I'm not faster than a speeding bullet," laments Quenton, glancing briefly down at the top of Shane's head before tilting his head back to look at the stars a moment. "But yeah. I mean, I tested to see how far I could go. I can't fly faster than I can run, and it takes the same amount of energy out of me. For me, this is like walking. Just as easy as it."

Shane snorts, shaking her head. "Lucky," she grumbles. "Christ, I wish I coulda been able to fly. Life'd've been *so* much simpler… or, y'know, if I was *anything* but a fucking human grenade in an LA high school."

"A badass human grenade," Quenton shoots back, as if reminding Shane, while he flies just a little higher, landing on one of the rooves closer to the ground, and setting Shane gently down on her feet, but keeping his arms around her. "You kicked ass in that stupid Danger Room." Funny, one would think it's his favorite.

"Yeah," Shane mutters sourly, "And I'd've kicked more ass if I had my training gear; pretty sure you noticed what *didn't* get wrecked when I blow up."

"I wasn't complaining," Quenton remarks to Shane, waggling both brows. After a moment, though, he averts his eyes. "I looked away," he admits.

"Good to know," Shane says, cheeks positively burning, "I'd have to give you a boot to the junk if you didn't say that." Shaking her head, she risks a look away from Quenton's chest, peering over the side of the roof and tightening her grip. "…Christ, this is weird. I mean our apartment was a couple floors up, but…"

"When I first found out I could fly," Quenton murmurs, keeping his red eyes on Shane's face, even as she looks away, "I was trying to jump as high as I could after I found out how strong I could be. But I kept going and going. I was so afraid. I went really high, above the clouds." He wets his lips again briefly. "Then I began to fall. I almost had a heart attack, but as soon as my heart began to hurt, I suddenly stopped in mid air. I was so hysterical with relief. I'm not afraid of heights anymore."

"The first time I found out I had powers," Shane murmurs, resting her head against Quenton's chest again, closing her eyes, "Middle of history class. Spitball Day, I guess. Half an hour, each one coming from someplace different like every time the teacher turned her back. Finally I just… boom. Coupla kids came out iwht like broken arms and stuff, that was it… but I was fucked. Suddenly I was like a walking Columbine, 'n just about everyone had a say in it… 'cept me."

"Did you hurt any of the kids who weren't spitballing you?" wonders Quenton quietly, while he struggles with the notion of holding her close, just keeping his arms still for now. "I'm sorry you uh… couldn't control it. I could control my strength at first. It must have been hard for you."

"Yeah, I did… 'S why all those assholes were tryin' to get me booted out of school, maybe stuck in jail or a psych ward. Cos' I was a danger to myself 'n everyone, all that bullshit." Wrinkling her nose, she shakes her head, shivering. "Christ that was a nightmare… really made me miss little shit like walkin' the Pride Parade with my dads. Cos, y'know… easier just havin' a gay dad than bein' a mutant, when you're in high school."

"Huh. I walked a Pride Parade with my best friend. He was gay." There's silence for a moment, and Quenton tilts his head as Shane shivers. Glancing over the edge of the roof, he lifts into the air with her gently again. "Is that why they made fun of you before, do you think? Just because of your gay dads? Or the way you dressed?" He adds, as an afterthought, "I think your little costumes are cute."

"Meh… every school's got that one poor little shit that can't catch a break." As they lift off again, Shane's grip tightens. "We didn't know he was gay for years… then he gets caught at a strip club, 'n the truth comes out 'n all… I'd've hated him a lot more, but… Mom'n'Dad were a lot happier after they split off. So, y'know… 's fine. Steve's a pretty good guy, too, I don't mind calling him my other dad."

Landing back on the ground as gently as he could, Quenton glances up at Shane's face for a moment, staring at it before he very gently presses soft lips to her forehead, though he moves his head back already. "Well. In this school, you caught a break. And if anyone fucks with you, they'll catch a break from my fists." He clears his throat. "Or something. Like that." He shifts slightly. "Jake came out of the closet his Freshman year of high school. He got beat up for it often, and I defended him. And got beat up for it, because they thought I was his boyfriend."

Shane freezes up as the lips touch her forehead. Literally; it's like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, and she doesn't even seem to *breathe* for a good few heartbeats. "…I'll remember that," she croaks, finally. "But yeah… guess I sorta caught a break. …. 'Cept this school is kinda completely fucking insane, to make up for it."

"Kisses to the lips are what are supposed to leave you breathless," reminds Quenton to Shane, though he doesn't do what he suggests. He just clears his throat, and nods his head, glancing about a moment. "Yeah. It is sort of insane. I still have no idea how we all ended up there in our pajamas." And unmentionables. Which he gladly does not mention.

Shane presses her forehead against Quenton's chest, clearing her throat. "Yeah… well… first kiss is a first kiss, yeah…?"

Tilting his head, Quenton shrugs his shoulders, daring a hand to lift and briefly run his knuckles against Shane's hair, where it doesn't meet her head. "Well. You can hardly call what I did a kiss."

Shane's hair is thick, and somewhat brittle, a consequence of dying it a different color every few days, no matter what magic Christopher manages to work. It seems she's due for another round, though, as mousey brown roots are beginning to show. "Yeah, but you've probably kissed girls before," comes the barely distinct murmur.

"Once or twice," admits Quenton, but while he drops his hand from her hair, studying it with his red eyes before dropping it down to where her face would be, were it not buried in his chest. "But I can't kiss very well anymore," he laments. "I have to learn how to do it without… I dunno. Biting someone's tongue off, or something." He shrugs once more, though Shane can't see it, though she probably feels it. "So we're both amateurs."

"…Well," Shane says, drawing in a deep breath, looking up at Quenton's face. "…Guess it's somethin' you're gonna have to work on, yeah?" She spends a moment chewing hard on her lip, then pulls herself up, pressing her lips against his cheek. "…Sorry I'm such a basket case, 'n all."

Quenton accepts the kiss to the cheek, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll need someone to practice with," he teases, but it's only half-hearted. "Whatever this is, between us, though. It's… I mean, at the moment, probably not for you, and I'm sorry, I'll do what I can to change it. But whatever it is a good thing," he tries to reassure. "And it's fine. You're… my smile. That trumps being a basket case any day."

Shane looses a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Man I can't hardly get *myself* to smile, most times," she says wryly, resting ehr head on his shoulder. "Pretty crazy thinking I'm anyone else's. And… I don't get it, y'know? *Why?*"

"It started when you called me a pussy," Quenton murmurs, half accusing. His free shoulder shrugs, ever so careful not to disturb her rest against him. "I don't know. The kids who hurt you, well. They can't do what I can do. I can punch through steel if I have enough momentum. But you? You stood up to me. That fire was irritating, but at the same time, I don't know. It was kind of cute." He shifts slightly. "And I like the way you talk. And… how you act to Sage." He glances away sheepishly. "You're fucking awesome."

Shane snorts quietly, the bright red blush suffusing her face. "…Man, I was sure you were gonna cave my head in then… And I don't know *what* the hell I was thinking calling you that, either. Any other time, never woulda happened. I'd'a just handed you the remote an' took off, just so I wouldn't have to worry about blowin' myself up and crawlin' naked out of a hole in the floor."

"I wanted to," Quenton admits. "But there was something in your eyes, or maybe the way one of your foot stamped down, that just… melted me." His shoulders shrug, while he grins at the blush he sees redden your cheeks. "I'm glad you didn't give it to me. I'm glad you stuck up for yourself. And you know. Humiliated me," he teases.

Shane snorts again, louder. "…Man, you got it bad," she mutters, turning her head away. "…Just *doin* it scared the hell outta me… I mean, I been a doormat long's I can remember, 'n here I am bitching out someone who could like punch me through the house without even trying? ….But yeah… glad I did, too."

"I do got it bad. You're terrible for my image," Quenton murmurs, but while he says this he lifts you, just slightly, so that you'd fall closer against him. "Anyway, I felt fucking terrible when you have me the money. Heartwrenching and shit."

Shane squeaks faintly as she's lifted up, and shifts, looping one arm under his, securing herself that way. "Yeah… I didn't know what else to do, y'know? I mean, Sage never saw Totoro before, an' it was one of those nice kinda things you can hardly ever do 'cos he doesn't get like most of the world… Thought you'd still be scared or somethin', and it just…" She shrugs. "That's the kinda stuff I'm used to doin', though. So I didn't feel too bad about giving you the money… 'N it was nice to get that game… y'know. Once I was sure there wasn't nothin' on it to fuck up my computer."

Quenton chuckles faintly. "Yeah, well. You do terrify me," he admits. "But probably not in the way you think. Your affect over me is just… weird and scary. And right now, just… well. Doing anything else might hurt you." He's silent for a while, before shrugging his shoulders. "If we last for a while, it wouldn't be a very… uh, physical relationship, not that we have to ever discuss that until like, two, three years."

"I don't mind," Shane says, closing her eyes and letting out a long, slow breath. "Gives me time to get over myself, anyway… Besides, that paranoia thing? Just try'n imagine what it'd be like in my head if we did ever get… physical."

"Yeah," Quenton agrees, clearing his throat. "And you know, we don't have to do… typical boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. It's not like I'm asking you to hold my hand and shit like that." After a moment, he follows with, "Well. Not that I'd mind. But that's not what I'm asking."

"Mnh… Hand-holding I could deal with," Shane murmurs. "Hey, um… can we um… get on the ground now? Not that this isn't cool, but um… kinda lost count of how many times I saw myself hittin' the sidewalk, and all…"

Quenton grins slightly, before he lowers Shane to the ground, now, clearing his throat and setting her gently down near the bench. He seems unable to scowl right now, and just frees her enough that she can pull away from him. "Sorry. We don't have to do this again," he murmurs.

Shane stumbles a bit as they make contact with the ground, letting out a long, shuddery breath. "….Nuno…. s'fine. S'just… happens whenever I look over a railing 'r something. …Only, this was just th'first time the only thing keepin' me from fallin' was trustin' someone else. So… little out of it right now, 's all…"

"Oh. Right. Sorry," Quenton murmurs, lifting his hands now, to release Shane so she can find something else to lean against and recapture her composure. "Right." His hands shove into his pockets, but he still can't get rid of his smile.

Shane may let go of Quenton, but for the moment doesn't seem terribly inclined to move away. Instead, she occupies herself with getting breathing and heart rate under control, and when she can trust herself to speak again, "..So… yeah, um… Saturday? Hit the City maybe? Wanna go to the Fabric District, but um… 'f you wanted to check out a movie or something while we're there, that'd be cool too."

"Sure. Fabric District. Never been, but I'll knock myself out." Pause. "Not literally." Reassurance. "And yeah, we'll see a movie or something. They should come out with more mutant friendly movies. Like, Bobby Drake acting or some crap." He furrows his brow, then just nods. Yes, Quenton is babbling. "But yeah. Saturday. When?"

Shane shrugs. "Iunno… after lunch? Can go there, shop a little, get dinner, get back b'fore curfew. Earlier, 'f you wanna get a movie too. …Or we ask Mr. Parker-Mayfair for a ride, which'd be just embarrassing as hell but he'd do it."

"Alright," agrees Quenton, nodding his head, rubbing his nape, while he nods. "And yeah, we can ask him. He's so far the coolest teacher I've met." He furrows his brow. "All the people I'm friends with are either gay guys, or have crazy hair," he notes.

Shane quirks an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "….That a problem? I don't mind dressing normal, but fuck you am I gonna stop dying my hair."

"Oh, no. Dress up, dye it up. Do whatever floats your boat." Quenton clears his throat, sheepishly, suddenly bashful. "The fact you're so independent is one reason why I like you so much."

Shane shakes her head, chuckling. "Yeah, well… some of us can't bench Buicks, so I hadda find other ways of keepin' people out. Figured headphones, wearin' costumes alla time 'n havin' crazy hair was a good start, right? Anyway… Dunno bout you, but, I'm gettin' kinda cold. So… see you later? 'N, you know… date on Saturday and all?"

"Yeah. We have a date," Quenton agrees, and then follows wryly, "with the Fabric District. And yeah. Next time I'll uh.. bring a jacket or some crap. And no, I'm not cold. I'm hot." He pauses a moment. "As in, you know. Body's hot, not…" He stops again. "Skin. Yeah. My skin's warm. Very warm. Like always."

Shane's eyebrows rise, the smirk touching her lips again. "…Y'know… that's actually kinda cute when you babble like that." Chuckling to herself, the first real bit of humor she's shown in some time, she turns back toward the mansion. "…Night, Q… see you later."

"Yeah," Quenton murmurs, clearing his throat, opting to later not babble so much in the future. Men are not cute. They're rugged. And manly. "Night, Shane. See you."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License