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Summary: Quenton and Shane make up, Nick has a Portal Gun
Date: June 20, 2012
Log Title: Early Morning Drama And Romance
Rating: R
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.
It's early in the morning and most of the students aren't up yet as they've still got a good hour or two to sleep before getting ready for breakfast and classes, Nicholas on the other hand has had another night where he's barely gotten any sleep. Sitting on the couch in a plain white shirt and pajama pants he plays Portal 2, a game he's played many times and the puzzles and humourous quips about lemons help take his mind off of things.
Rubbing sleepily at one eye, the day's fire-engine red hair dye bright and fresh-set on head and eyebrows, Shane wanders into the Rec Room, likely drawn by promises of incendiary lemons. "Hey, assbutt," she mutters fuzzily to Nick, clomping across the floor and dropping onto the couch at the other side from the boy. A wide, jaw-cracking yawn follows, proof that the girl isn't terribly awake, but getting there.
And then the door is nudged open, Quenton having to lean against it to open it instead of actually swinging it open with a hand. He's only wearing black synthetic pants, which show several old faded bullet wound scars as he wanders in sleepily, moving for the armchair. He pauses when he sees that it is Shane and Nick who are in the room, staring at them with sleepy red eyes before glancing to the television. "… Yo," he mutters awkwardly.
Looking up at Shane when she enters the room, Nicholas gives her a wave. "Isn't that kind of redunant?" He pauses the game and looks over at the girl. "Looks like you managed to get some sleep last night. Is it getting easier for you to sleep at night?" Looking up at Quenton the 'yo' is returned with a wave. "Welcome to the early bird club."
Shane lifts a shoulder. "Comes and goes," she murmurs, raking a hand through her hair. "'N yeah, it's redundant. 'S what makes it funny." As Quenton eases into the room, Shane lifts a hand in greeing, tilting her head to one side in a 'c'mere' gesture. "Hey Q… Have a sit."
Watching Nick a moment, Quenton says awkwardly over to Shane, "I uh… got you a stuffed … uh, Sonic. I didn't know if you'd like it or not," he mutters quietly, shifting before he moves and lets his body go slack as he falls beside her, trying to relax a little. His eyes drift over the screen a moment as Cave Johnson talks about how crappy a company Black Nesa is.
There's the faintest of smiles on Nick's face as Quenton gives her the stuffed sonic but he doesn't look over, just continuing to make portals. He moves over to make enough room for Quenton to join them and also give a bit of space. "Yeah, I know what you mean by it comes and goes, sometimes I ponder if going down to the medbay to see if they have some sort of sleep aid so I stop falling alseep in math class."
Shane bounces in her seat as Quenton falls onto the couch, accepting the gift with a small smile and a lean into Quenton's side. "Hey… Thanks. This'll be good for the pile." Her phone is slipped out of her back pocket, a picture drawn up of her side of the dorm room; the bed is, literally, *covered* in stuffed animals, at least four deep. "Half th'time I don't even need a blanket." Drawing in a deep breath, she leans against Quenton's shoulder, toying with the stuffed blue hedgehog. "…Y'know, Q… thought 'bout what I was gonna do a lot."
Red eyes settle on the picture on the phone, before he clears his throat, rolling his shoulder idly, the one Shane isn't leaning against so as not to disturb her. "Yeah," he says, mumbling. "Me, too." He swallows, audibly, the red eyed boy caught out of his element, so he just runs his fingers through his hair. "So uh… what are you going to do?" he wonders, eyes flitting aside to the girl, then to Nick.
This is one of the situations where Nick is feeling that he's a third wheel. "Uh, I'm gonna get going, I should take a shower and stuff before everyone starts waking up. It's the best time to hit the showers, noone is in there." He says as he turns off the game and the television and goes to leave. "See you both later."
Shane blinks, leaning over and peering at Nick. "…Don't have to, y'know," she murmurs, "won't take long." Pursing her lips, now faintly troubled that Nick wants to leave, she draws in a breath. "…Not much, Q… Jus'… too tired t'stay *that* pissed, y'know? Just… lil' more careful, yeah? People break easy too."
"I try to be," Quenton mutters, then, guiltily flicking his eyes to the side. "I'm sorry. I try to be careful. I don't mean to hurt people. I mean, I do, sometimes. But…" His fingers begin to dig at his cheek a little roughly, then, wetting his lips and exhaling. "I don't know." The stuffed animal is intact, at least. Soft things are things that are easier for the mutant to handle.
Nicholas looks over at Shane and nods. "Okay, I'm just going to grab a quick snack then in the kitchen. Give you two a bit." He says as he tries not to listen to the conversation between the two of them but Nick can't help but smile as they seem to be trying to work through their difficulties. He leaves the two alone for a while as he slips into the kitchen.
Shane nods her head once. "I know… 's hard," she murmurs, drawing in a deep breath. "'S jus'… don't deal surprises good, y'know? Hardly ever get *good* s'prises, so… remember all th'bad shit really easy."
"Yeah. I mean… I don't know what's a good surprise. I don't know… I know we were together for a good while now, but I'm still no good at this anymore. And I know I ain't uh… pretty boy Mason or whatever. But I swear I won't abandon you, especially when you need me," Quenton murmurs, drawing out a sharp breath, digging at the skin near his eye.
Shane snorts, shaking her head. "Mason's fine, but he's kinda a flake. 'S what happens when y'start actin' 'fore you're outta high school. Just… shit *scares* me, y'know? *You* scare me. Care about you, 'n that means you can *hurt* me, like most people can't, y'know? Can't really jus'… whazzit you said? 'Pull th'pin outta my ass?'"
"That was… bad of me to say. I was being fucking stupid. I just… I get frustrated with myself. I can't… hold you the way I want, or kiss you the way I want. And I know even if I could, it'd be a long time before we could do something like… cuddle like that or what have you," Quenton grunts, while he leans back against the couch. "I don't mind that it'd take you a while. I just… am scared that I'll never be able to do crap like that."
"'Ain't like I'm gonna walk jus' cos y'can't," Shane murmurs. "'N whether or not y'end up figurin' out how t'manage it… It ain't what's gonna make me wanna go. *Hurtin'* me makes me wanna go. I ain't doin' it yet… mostly cos it's what I'd'a done a couple years back. 'N… tryin' not t'be like that anymore, y'know?"
"I'll… try not to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. It's the last thing I want. You and Zoey are the most important things to me. That and finding my parents, where ever they are," Quenton says quietly. "I'm… I'm yours, okay? Like we said that day. I'm yours. Just keep that in mind."
Shane leans against Quenton's shoulder, closing her eyes and loosing a quiet sigh. "Yeah… 'M trying." A hand comes up, balls into a fist, and thumps against the boy's shoulder. "…'N I didn't tell m'dads 'bout this. Figured, didn't wanna bug them. ….Also didn't wanna see 'f Dad was jokin' 'r not 'bout the havin' you killed thing. Pretty sure he was… but don't wanna test it, y'know?"
"Yeah. Surprised they're cool with the fact you have a mutant boyfriend who can — did you tell them about my powers? I'm not sure if that's something you talk to your parents about. I didn't know your boyfriend was black and I didn't know your boyfriend could bend steel are entirely different, but walk in hand and hand at the same time, you know?" Quenton mutters.
Reentering the room Nicholas pauses for a bit to hear if he should walk back in or leave the talking for a bit. Finding the conversation to be less third wheelish he walks in carrying a box of blueberry mini muffins. "If you want some minimuffins, there are a few packs in here." He says showing the box and returning to his seat back on the couch. Though at the conversation he stays quiet and just turns the X-Box back on.
Shane shrugs. "'S a mutant school. Figure they guess it's enough I got a boyfriend at all." Lifting her head at Nicholas as he comes back, she leans over Quenton's lap, tugging a couple packs out and settling back. Opening one, she hands it up to Quenton. "…Didn't mean t'run you out, Nick."
"Guess so," Quenton murmurs, glancing over to Nick a moment, taking the pack offered and just lifting it to dump some of it into his mouth. "Right. Well. Sure they'd flip if they found out what my powers were." He swallows a moment, audibly. "Yeah. Wasn't too personal a conversation," he comments to Nick.
Nicholas shakes his head. "You didn't run me out, I heard the mini muffins calling to me in the other room. And I figured you two love birds needed some time without me being a third wheel." He teases before the smile goes flat again. Closing his eyes, Nick takes a deep breath. "Why do you want them to flip so badly over her dating you?"
Shane arches an eyebrow across Quenton's lap at Nick, popping a muffin into her mouth and chewing, before settling back to lean against Quenton's shoulder. Seems she's intent on being no help at all in this conversation. His free hand, however, suddenly becomes an armrest.
"Don't want them to flip. Just saying they wouldn't be fond of finding out her boyfriend's a super strong mutant with anger problems. If that isn't the psychological profile of a future wife beater I don't know what is," mutters Quenton irritably. He's silent for a moment, before adding, "Ain't gonna ever hurt you like that," to Shane. His fingers brush along her arm, but he makes no effort to actually hold it.
Nicholas gives a shrug. "I only heard about one or two guys who beat their wives back home, never really knew them that well. Most of the time people just kind of kept quiet about it so I don't know what the psychological profile of a future wife beater is. You'd rather hurt yourself then other people so I'd say you're lacking in the typical profile."
"Boy's gotta point," Shane notes. "'Sides. Ain't you got problems enough without borrowin' trouble? Trust me, know what I'm talkin' 'bout there." One package empty, she crumples up the plastic and sets it aside.
"Oh, no, I want to hurt other people. I just don't want to hurt regular people. Or good people. I want to hurt something. Hurting myself doesn't burn the rage off, it just keeps it… level," Quenton grunts. "Enough about me. How you two holding up?"
Nicholas shrugs his shoulders. "Managing." It's about the best way he can describe how he's doing. "Thinking about talking to Ms. Frost about getting help." He says quietly, followed by quickly starting the game back up again so he doesn't have to look at the other two as he says that.
"Probably a good idea," Shane says, shifting to lean further against Quenton. After a few moments consideration, she shrugs. "Nick'n I started up Advanced Combat while you was out. Figured, no reason t'be scared 'bout gettin' mobbed 'r kidnapped again, 'f I know how t'handle shit like that, right? So Ms. Pryde's kickin' th' crap outta us couple days a week. 'S helpin', though."
"Huh. Advanced Combat." Quenton rolls his shoulders awkwardly, then, eyes flitting over to the door a moment. "Back when I was uh…." He rubs his nape. "Avenger Boy, Jake and I began to run training sessions in the junkyard based on old Titans comics. Not that Teen Titan crap that got on Tee Vee," he adds quickly.
"I just hate feeling helpless." Nicholas says as he focuses on what he's doing in the X-Box world. "I got tired of seeing people get hurt around me and not being able to do anything to stop it. My parents, Bodie, Sophia, Mason and then that thing in Mutant Town where I decided to have a panic attack rather than try to help….I need to push myself to learn more."
"Sometimes, it's just not fair to expect someone to take everything said seriously. "…Avenger Boy," Shane repeats, with a cough… and apparently that's all she'll allow herself on that score. "That what you do inna Danger Room, Q? Cos it's pretty much th' same thing, 'cept you don't need t'haul cars around t'do it." Nodding at what Nick says, she takes a deep breath. "…But figured why y'liked th'superhero stuff. Felt good, helpin' Cale's sister. Like f'once, m'powers had a *point* to'm. Figure if I gotta do that again, better know what'n'ell I'm doin'. But mostly, 's what Nick said; tired o' bein' helpless up until I snap."
"No. What I do in the Danger Room's uh… something else." Like ripping Icarus's wings off, or splitting a powerless version of himself's skull open. "Anyway, I'm not going to put on a mask or anything ever again. Figure it's not my style anymore. Costume was a bit ridiculous, anyway," Quenton adds, while he glances over at Nick. "Anyway, I'm… I don't know. Not like I can help you guys. I don't know."
"Not really asking for help. We have Ms. Pryde teaching us stuff." Nicholas says in more an attempt to get Quenton off the hook. "I can't say I'd never put on a mask or anything, I don't really want to but if it meant not letting someone I care about get hurt, I'd do it. Anyway what is anyone's style anymore? Once you come here it's like your past is just thrown out the window and your life goes to hell in a handbasket just because you're a mutant. Who cares what you look like, what you don't look like, what you've done, it doesn't matter. The world hates you for something you can't control, better just to learn to protect yourself and those you care about."
Shane grunts her agreement. "'Sides. Ain't expectin' you t'help everything, Q. Jus'… You're m'boyfriend, 'n you're a pretty good friend when your brain's in gear. When you ain't thinkin', yeah, y'idea of help sucks hard enough t'throw off CERN readings, but whatever. Ain't half as much of a shithead's you try t'be."
"Yeah," Quenton mutters, then, nose twitching, dropping his packet of muffins onto his lap and then digging his fingers so hard into his face that he breaks the outermost layer of skin, leaving little red bloody lines. "Alright." With that, he just falls silent.
Something throws Nick off with Quenton's reaction and he runs Chell right into certain death and doesn't even bother restarting the game when the screen comes up. He looks over at Quenton with a confused expression. "Why, did you want to help or did you want in on it or something? It's not like it's an all exclusive club just Shane came to me with the idea when you were MIA after my run in with Envy. I still think I should have just let her cut off Mason's hand." He mutters at the end even if he really doesn't think that.
"I don't give a damn about Advanced Combat Training. In case you haven't noticed, champ, I'm not exactly a good student. Failing all my classes," Quenton mutters, while he glances to the door. "I fail in an environment that has combat in the name, wouldn't be a fun time," he grunts. "Just awesome knowing that I not uh…" He snaps his fingers, the sound much louder then mundane snapping. "Dependable. Not that I should give a fuck about that."
A small fist burrows into Quenton's shoulder, twisting faintly. "'…Yeah,'" she repeats, catching the inflections well enough to make it a passable imitation. "Knock it off, Q. Y'r 'image' is bullshit, 'n you know it. Yeah, y'got anger problems. Fucks up everythin' y'try t'do. Well guess what cupcake, ain't no easier f'me 'r Nick t'push through our shit. Question is, y'want it bad enough? Cos if y'don't, 's fine. Just keep on way y'are. 'F y'do? Could do a lot worse 'n here."
"I don't give a damn about Advanced Combat Training. In case you haven't noticed, champ, I'm not exactly a good student. Failing all my classes," Quenton mutters, while he glances to the door. "I fail in an environment that has combat in the name, wouldn't be a fun time," he grunts. "Just awesome knowing that I not uh…" He snaps his fingers, the sound much louder then mundane snapping. "Dependable. Not that I should give a fuck about that." He exhales sharply. "And I'm not saying it ain't any easier for you guys. That's not — fuck it. Forget I said anything."
"It's not a graded class." Nicholas says quietly. "It's just something to help Shane and I not feel like crap." Or at least for him. "It has nothing to do with you not being dependable….nevermind." He says in frustration and holding his tongue, which isn't an easy thing for Nick.
Shane glances from Quenton to Nick, eyes narrowing for a moment. THen she blows out a rough breath, shaking her head. "…Fine. Anyway. 'F you wanna take it, that Logan guy does onea th'classes. Couldn't hurt, 'specially since 'f what they're sayin' 'round school's right, 'n ain't nothin' can kill 'im. 'F nothin else, help ya t'get y'mad out."
"No. Fuck that shit," mutters Quenton, just shaking his head. "I'm not even saying don't take the class. Just… I don't know what I'm saying. Just forget I said anything," he repeats. "Better off not talking, I get my foot in my mouth and it just…. pisses me off."
Nicholas tightens his jaw, closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to try to calm down. "God, you know what I miss back home, the lack of this bullshit." He says sounding irritated. "Really, things were so much simplier back home."
"Yeah well, y'stuff a couple hundred teenagers in a big ol' house, dramabombs gonna light off every couple hours," Shane murmurs, a mild note of amusement to her voice, as she knuckles Quenton's shoulder. "Anyway. Q? We cool?"
"What bullshit?" wonders Quenton, then, furrowing his brow. "I —" His hand curls into a fist and he punches the side of his head, twice, though he doesn't do it as hard as he would usually, with Shane so close. "We're fine. I should go, though. Should just stay away."
"You and your blatant jealously over nothing!" Nicholas says putting the controller down on the table. "No, you shouldn't stay away you hae a girlfriend here and I have one whose probably not sleeping so…I'll see you both around." He says before giving a wave and leaving the room.
Shane watches Nick leave, eyebrow perked, and snorts as the teen rounds the doorway and heads down the hall. "…Dunno 'f it's jealousy 'r what, but… Dude's right. Stick around a little, yeah?" She leans up, brushing her lips against his cheek. "'N honestly… stop beatin' y'self up. Bad enough I do it t'myself… But I don't make it literal."
"I'm not jealous of him," Quenton mutters, frustratedly, steam rising from his shoulders. The kiss calms him down, some, but he closes his eyes and releases a shuddering exhale. "Have to beat myself up to keep the rage at bay. It's not like I do anything permanent."
"Mebbe," Shane murmurs, "but there's gotta be other ways, yeah? 'S just a matter o' findin' what works, 's all."
"You help. Just… being nearby," Quenton says, awkwardly, then, eyes flitting over to Shane. "You're my calm, kiddo. My smile."
Shane chuckles quietly, closing her eyes and leaning into Quenton's arm. "He's right, y'know," she murmurs. "Crazy 'bout you too. Jus'… wanna know y'okay when I ain't around, y'know? Jus' tryin' t'see 'f y'can do that. Be okay. 'N like I said. Worse places 'n this t'find that."
"Yeah. I've been in worst places then this," Quenton agrees, just glancing over towards the ceiling, while his arm shifts slightly behind Shane, but gently, pressing his lips delicatetly to the side of her head.
Shane's lips curl up in a sleepy smile as his lips brush against her head, apparently not even minding the fact that as gentle as he is, it still moves her head a bit to one side. "See? That's nice, Q. Y'can do nice just fine."
"At least for you," Quenton grunts, while his eyes flit over her lips and then his gaze moves to the television where Chell was recently working all the extra weight off. "You're awesome. Yeah?"
"Bullshit I am," Shane grunts sourly. "Ain't ever gonna get me t'say I am. Tara can be awesome. I jus' wanna be okay."
"You're awesome," mutters Quenton, stubbornly. "And if you don't like awesome, fine. You're amazing."
Shane cracks n eye open to fix Quenton with a quelling look. "Jus' fine bein' okay," she repeats, loosing a quiet huff. "…but fine, 'f you wanna say it I ain't stoppin' ya again."
"Just okay," Quenton grumbles. "I guess I know why you wanna feel like that," he claims, glancing over at her eyes. "I like someone who's just okay better then awesome people, then."
A comment which is rewarded by another sleepy chuckle, and a widening of the smile. "See, this's why I like you. Y'learn quick, when you wanna." Tilting her head up, she eases herself upward to place a kiss on the boy's lips. "C'mon. Class'll be startin' soon, 'n I gotta essay t'hand in."
"Failing this year anyway, so I'm going to just walk you to class and go take a flight somewhere," Quenton murmurs, pressing his lips to return the kiss but not making any other effort. "Let's go." With that, his arm slips from behind her.
"Always next year," Shane notes, levering herself up off the couch. "Mebbe we c'n graduate same time, 'f it turns out okay."
