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Summary: Nick and Shane drag Ahmed outside of the walls of Xaviers.
Date: July 13, 2012
Log Title: Goo Conscious
Rating: PG
Westchester - Harry's Hideaway
The typical bar. Dim lighting, wooden tables, booths and, of course, the bar. It sits in the center of the room and wraps around the liquor cabinets and taps in a rectangular shape. Posters hang around the room, famous, older bands, such as The Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones and so forth. Music plays lightly through the room, upbeat melodies to aid in keeping the drunks from getting too depressed. The wait staff is at your service.
Nicholas has reached a breaking point where he needed to get out of Xavier's, the place was just making him feel depressed no matter what he did so he bugged Ahmed and Shane to go out to Salem Center where the three find themselves in a booth at Harry's Hideaway for lunch. "I just needed to get out of that school, maybe that's why I've been so miserable lately, I've been feeling cooped up ontop of everything. I don't know how you haven't left once Ahmed." He says as he looks over the menu trying to decide what to order.
Just because the opportunity rarely shows up to make a thing of it, and summer is a good gearing-up point for the cosplay scene, Shane has decided to go out in costume; specifically, the sleeveless, ridiculously elaborate custom beltskirt-dress that had won her her prize the year before, at the NYCC contest. Having decided to leave the polystyrene-and-resin-and-chrome armor pieces off, she looks rather surreal, blankly perusing the menu while looking like she stepped out of a JRPG. "They got garlic fries, here?"
Ahmed takes another moment to look around the room as if expecting everyone to be staring at him. It's not his fault he doesn't know that Hank McCoy comes down here often, so the furry presuasion is not totally unwelcome. He checks the image inducer watch for the umpteenth time, and then tugs the hoodie up a little bit more, just resettling it in a new spot, "This looks like a bar. You didn't say we were going to a bar. You said out, and… whatever… okay? I'm fine with the school." Since he looks like himself, before mutation, no one can see under the disguise he could pass for a living action figure at the moment.
"Bar, resturant, it's the same thing. Most bars are resturants." Nicholas says to Ahmed as back home the one place to eat at that isn't yours, or someone else house, is the bar/resturant. "I dunno, I haven't really looked, I've been focused on the fact that they have milkshakes." He then raises an eyebrow at Ahmed and chuckles lightly. "Okay, the image inducer looks fine but the way you keep tugging up your hoddie and checking your 'watch', it makes you stand out. And I'm sure you're fine with school, that's why when you're not in our room you're running about as a cat." The last part is said quietly to keep prying ears away. "Is that an outfit you made Shane? It kind of looks like Lulu fron Final Fantasy Ten but different."
"'S cos I don't got Lulu's rack," Shane grunts. "Put th'armor bits on, don't look like Lulu s'much, but that's where it started." Glancing up, eye drawn toward Ahmed's incessant fiddling, she raises an electric blue eyebrow. "Seriously guy, chill. 'Sides, it's Salem; get enough mutant kids 'round here, hardly anyone gives half a shit about weird anymore."
Shooting the pair a flat look, Ahmed replies, "Yeah, well… you don't sweat goo that smells like the inside of a German incinerator, okay? That doesn't exactly make you welcome at places like restaurants, theme parks, and the like." Indicated in how he sets down the menu he was looking at with one hand, which now has a bunch of finger-sized goosmudges on it.
Nicholas gives Ahmed an unamused look, not exactly thrilled with the 'German incinerator' comment. "Who cares if you don't have the rack, you have the attitude. Anyway it looks awesome what you have on and gotta admire the balls that you have to go in public wearing that." He wouldn't be able to do that. "Ahmed, just relax a bit, okay? I'd say what's the worst that could happen but then I'd be shoving my foot in my mouth."
"S'easy, after y'get practice. Wore'm alla time when I first got here. Was like, 'f people were gonna talk, 'r stare, fucking well give'm somethin' t'stare at, 'n if they hadda problem they could just get fucked." Lifting a shoulder, Shane sets her menu aside, apparently having made her choice. "Thing 'bout Lulu's dress though… gotta have a rack like hers 'f y'wanna keep it up. S'why this ain't got sleeves, 'n goes up t'm'neck. Allat fur trim'd make me look like a dude in drag."
Ahmed snorts out softly, "No one would mistake you for a dude, Shane." Looking away and out the window, the menu is almost ignored as he tries to vent a little bit of the nervousness by creating a shell in the spot next to him in the back of the booth where he's sort of pinned in. So slowly, there forms a big orange tabby cat that lays there asleep in that boneless feline way. Once the fur softens out, he reaches over to pet it, the small strings attaching it to his wrist almost like a puppeteer barely visible to those who know what to look for, "I admit it… I'm a coward. I don't want to be judged. I'm sick of being judged all the time. At least at school none of the teachers judge me. I'm just another kid."
"So boobs keep up stuff like that? I always thought..well..it was just video game stuff or like…I dunno, I don't know how girls clothes work." Nick says in frustration more in regards to himself than anything else. "But it'd be hard to make you look like a dude Shane, you don't have the right…broadness? I dunno, you're too girl or something." Nick flounders. "Ahmed, the more you just relax the less you're going to be judged, besides you're with two people who are fine with you being you." The cat gets a glance from Nick but he doesn't say anything in regards to it.
"Meh," Shane replies. "THere's stuff y'could do, but, half of it ain't comfortable, other half just ain't worth it." The cat, likewise, gets a curious look from Shane, falling silent at his rant. "Y'know, Ahmed… s'why I started wearin' costumes alla time. Like i said. Wanna judge me, here's a reason, 'n also go fuck y'self. 'S also why I like punk, same attitude. 'Sides, who's anyone t'judge you anyway? What makes'm so fuckin' special, they get to tell you how it is?"
Ahmed seems to go rather somber when that's brought up, "Because I come from a people who've been judged for a long time, Shane. I try and explain to someone what a Kurd is, and I usually get things like 'So you're an Arab?' or 'So you're a Muslim?'. So then I usually have to explain the jewish thing, and how the Jews in that part of the world would have to sort of hide in plain sight within the normal Muslim Kurdish communities. So then it's 'So why didn't they just move to Israel like the rest of em?'." Rolling his eyes, and shaking his head, he sits back a moment and adds, "Everyone wants to put you in a little category in their brain so you make sense and they know how to 'act' around you. Happens all the time. THAT'S why people judge you."
"But you're with two people right now who don't give a crap about any of that." Nicholas says to Ahmed. "People will judge you for everything, and if you say you haven't judged anyone for any reason without getting to know them, I'd call you a liar. Everyone judges people, it's how we work. I'm not saying it's an excuse just that it's life. I didn't really experience much until recently, Shane here's quite messed up from people picking on her just because they could and you, you're afraid to leave your room because of it. You just gotta realize that the friends you have, the ones that care about and you care about, are more important than the opinions of others. It's tough, I know."
"Myup," Shane says, in agreement with at least the first half of Nick's statement. "An' it don't make judgin' any less stupid, either, jus' cos it's a reflex. Anyway." Picking up her menu again, and putting it down, she frowns in the general direction of the bar. "The hell's th'waitress anyway?"
The Can-Boy Wonder shrugs, but the question is enough to disturb his concentration and the cat turns to sludge and begins oozing down the seat, slowly evaporating on the floor, "Can't have much on the menu… and they won't cook chicken the way I want. It's salmon caeser salad for me. Dressing on the side." Making a face, "Most of these places don't even have real caeser dressing… it's just ranch with some anchovy powder or something to simulate the taste." But after those comments he looks at Shane, "I think my family'd like you… if they ever met you. You're honest with people. That's a hard thing to manage. Harder still to stick to."
Nicholas grins at Shane. "See his family would probably hate me, cause I'm German or something." He looks back at the menu and finally decides. "I'm probably getting a cheese steak or something when the waitress gets here.." He says looking around to try to get her attention. "Complain, complain, see if I ever take you out on a date again Ahmed." He teases.
Shane lifts a shoulder. "So'm I," she answers Nick, then looks to Ahmed. "'S cos I been lied to so much. Hate it. Fuckin' *hate* liars. So 'f I think someone's fulla shit, fuckin' well gonna call em on it. So probably y'family'd hate me, cos first thing I do is tell'm what assholes they are f'shuttin' you out like that. 'F they c'n own up? Mebbe then they'd like me. Iunno."
Ahmed makes a sour face, "Yeah, who wants a high maintenence girlfriend like you, Nick. Glad you didn't take me shopping, I'd probably be so loaded with with horse stuff I'd have to grow a second pair of arms." The riposte is given as he then shrugs at Shane, "Allright… enough about this… someone flag down the waitress before I cat out and have a growl with the chef."
