2010-01-06: Know Your Role


Rashmi_icon.jpg Coyote_icon.jpg Dallas_icon.jpg

Summary: A chance meeting in the gym turns into a talk on leadership and how to go about it.

Date: January 06, 2010

Know Your Role

Rating: PG.

Xavier Mansion - Gymnasium

This big room with wooden floors is build with powered students in mind; the entire room is power proof. Blast the walls all you like, they are not breaking. The gym can either be one large room and it also has dividers to make it two smaller gyms. This large Gym has basketball nets, equipment to set up equipment badminton, volleyball, hockey, soccer, gymnastics, fencing, and everyone's favorite, dodge ball.

Rashmi snorts, climbing to her feet again. "Well, I guess… But I'm going to need a lot more practice, if I'm going to be anything but a danger to everyone that happens to be around me." The girls are talking off in the far corner of the gym, about thirty feet away from a series of pads propped up against the wall, a crudely-drawn target on a piece of notepaper taped to one pad, looking much the worse for wear.

Coyote is quick to follow Rashmi up, pulling herself to her own feet. "Good call. As dumb and cliched as it is, practice does make perfect, but don't think you're a danger all the time. I mean, look at right. We've been talking for some time and nothing has…" Her words are quickly cut short as the white haired teen's eyes roll up into the back of her head; a clear, visceral version of the girl quickly detaching from the now falling body. This must be the 'ghost' she was referring too.

Rashmi yelps in startled shock, a hand reaching out to snag the blonde's shirt. Strong the redhead definitely is not, but she's clearly determined to struggle at letting Coyote down as easy as she can manage. "…Speak of the devil…"

Dallas wanders in for a late night session of shooting hoops. He's wearing his former school's basketball shorts, long enough to almost reach the knee and deep blue with a yellow Thracian helm logo down one leg and an Xavier's t-shirt. Apparently he's not quite ready to give up the old life entirely, even symbolically. His own basketball is under his arm. He just throws better with his. Looking around, he sees Rashmi and Coyote on the floor at the corner of the gym and his eyebrows go up. He wanders over, hoping he's not about to interrupt something. In this school you never can tell.

The reach was just in time, as Rashmi grabs onto Coyote's shirt to help break her fall, but unfortunately at the cost of stretching out the neck. /Thanks! That was an awesome save/ It's the sound of Coyote's voice, but not in an audible way, but in the thoughts of the red headed teen. /Could have left me with another nasty bruise… now to get back into that pesky body./ Her translucent self moves her legs so as to be sitting cross-legged , but still happens to be floating in the air. She's obviously staring at her own body, laying there on the gym floor. /Hey Dallas./ She communicates with the new arrival telepathically as well.

Rashmi levers herself back to her feet, taking in a deep breath. "Thanks… I'm glad you're not hu—" The redhead pauses, a confused look crawling across ehr face as she reaches up to rub her temple. "…You're going to be okay there, right?" Turning, she gives Dallas an absent half-nod, still sorting out the whole telepathy thing.

Dallas recognizes Coyote and he knows about the astral thing. The telepathic contact gets a faint stiffening of the shoulders. He tries not let his distaste for having somebody in his head show, though his jaw clenches a little. He says, "Coyote. Rashmi." He arches his eyebrows. "Um, what's going on?"

The ghost cocks her head to the side before her eyes light up and a light bulb for all purposes, should appear above her transparent head. It doesn't take long for the two toreemerge, body and ghost, as the now physically aware teen jolts up from the floor, her lungs burning for breath. " Uhuh!" Resting back with her arms out stretched, Coyote waits until she finally regains her breath. "Oh, sorry about that. Was briefly rejected from my body. Happens." The now loose collar is pulled at, her left hand used to pin it against her shoulder.

Rashmi gives Coyote a rather concerned look, stooping and extending a hand to help the other girl back up. "…Sorry about your shirt…" Looking up and over at Dallas, the redhead shrugs. "…I was just practicing my powers, and… well…" She nods to the air where Coyote's ghost floated, leaving that to make up the rest of the explanation.

Dallas nods and says, "Sucks." That seems to be aimed at Coyote. "Still, I'd still steal you for my squad if we were allowed." He grins faintly. "I wonder if your squad leader even knows how good he's got it." He looks back at Rashmi. "Target practice with psychic bowling balls? Ouch. For the target at least." He spins the ball in his hands, for something to do with them, if nothing else. "Kind of late night. I don't usually see a lot of people down here around now."

"Ah, no problem. Thanks for not letting me take a full spill." The blond haired teen takes the offered hand to help get herself back up on her feet. "Yeah, it sure does." Coyote says in agreement, not exactly positive Dallas was even directing hiscomment at her. "Aw shucks Dallas, you're going to make me blush." In fact, she does begin to blush at the comment, already having gone over both of their opinions on her powers. "I was planning on doing some running around the gym, but then I saw Rashmi and… well, you know how that goes."

"They're not *bowling balls,*" Rashmi says with a touch of asperity. "And anyway, most of the time the target's the safest thing in that direction. For now, anyway…"

Dallas nods and grins, "Yea, she's really a bad influence." His tone is dry and teasing at that. Looking back at Rashmi, he says, "Ah, ok. Handballs? Bocce balls? Croquet balls? Cricket balls? Tennis balls?" Bowling ball just makes for a more fun nickname."

Rashmi snorts, stepping well enough away from Coyote to keep the other girl out of the orbital path, calling up the spheres. "I don't call them *anything,*" she grumbles, "except maybe a complete pain." Turning back to the target, she starts to move her right hand, causing the spheres' motion to tilts and curve in response, as though running through a series of thrown-together warmups.

Coyote laughs, her eyes glancing between both the others. "Yeah, she's a terrible influence! When I start failing gym, I'll know exactly who to blame." She then looks to Rashmi as Dallas pokes fun at her powers, offering up a somewhat haphazard smile, failing in her attempts to keep a straight face. "I don't know, there's kind of a nice ring to psychic bowling balls." she says, a couple snickers escaping into the open air.

Dallas nods and says, "Coming up with perfect codenames, it's my gift." He takes a prudent step back as Rashmi summons her spheres and watches them carefully. After a moment, he says, "You know…." He pauses. "Nah, it's goofy." His shrug is particularly self-depreciating and wide. He looks sideways to Coyote. "I, ah, didn't know you were a telepath, too." His tone is cautious there.

"I'll say." The pale teen responds, a couple stray giggles still making appearances. There's genuine enthusiasm behind Coyote's nod as her smile grows. "I am, but only in my ghost form." She pauses, biting down into her bottom lip. "Oh, I hope you're not sensitive to telepathy? I don't use it often enough to think about who I end up communicating to. So sorry for not checking… both of you."

Rashmi lets the spheres settle into a relatively stable orbit again, and after a moment,brings both hands forward, 'scooping' three spheres each out of their track. Her arms fling wide, arcing forward into something resembling a double overhand throw. Obligingly, the spheres step up their speed, pelting towards the mats, each moving roughly the same speed as a cruising auto… and half a dozen loud impacts later, the target remains merely jostled a bit.

Dallas shakes his head as he looks towards Coyote. "Not really. I'm, um, not fond of people digging around but if you just use it to talk, that's okay. Actually, that makes you even more valuable for recon and stuff.

Dallas shakes his head as he looks towards Coyote. "Not really. I'm, um, not fond of people digging around but if you just use it to talk, that's okay. Actually, that makes you even more valuable for recon and stuff. That's why my squad doesn't have. No flyers. No ability to control the field by knowing what's there." He looks back at Rashmi. "Ah, hey. Question: do you juggle?"

Coyote mimics Dallas as she too shakes her head. "Oh, no no no… I can't read minds or anything like that. It's purely for communication. As far as I know?" She adds a shrug of emphasis, as all the other students, not knowing the extent of her powers. "Yeah, that's what I figure they'll use me for, just need to make sure someone will be there to make sure my lame-ass body is safe." There's almost a couple seconds where she's completely serious, bu the juggling comment is more than enough to pull her into a bout of laughter.

"No," Rashmi says through gritted teeth, the target slowly becoming the focus of genuine hostility. "And it hurts my brain to try and make these things work right. It's like," she grumbles, 'pulling' all six up in a single train, "This is one big hand." Scooping half of the spheres out of their orbit, she sets them rotating in opposing directions. "Two kind of big hands." With a wave, all is aligned once more, and she thumps down onto the floor. "I guess after awhile I could probably make all of them do different things… but that's like figuring how to work *eight different hands,* and only two of them can do anything besides punch you."

Dallas grins at Coyote. "Worth it, though. If you read the reports on X-Man battles, half of why they do so well is because they control the battle." Looking back to Rashmi. "Well, um, I'm asking because that's kind of what juggling does. I had some problems with control when it came to pitching a couple of years ago. The coach made me learn to juggle. It seriously helped. Might help you too."

Coyote nods, beaming slightly from the continued compliments. "True. Just hard for me to leg go of the fact that I gotta depend on others to keep me safe, that's all." She stops to watch and listen to Rashmi, getting more of an appreciation on the less complex nature of her own powers. "Oh, that actually isn't a bad idea!" She says, looking between Dallas and the red haired teen. "I might have something you can start with - my parents are hippies after all. I can guarantee you they packed some sort of juggling things."

Rashmi listens to Dallas talk, sullenly knocking on a sphere each time it passes her head. As the boy gets to the main thrust of his suggestion, she blinks, perking up a bit. "…That actually sounds like a *really* good idea. …Although," she says with a small chuckle, "isn't that kind of against the superhero thing, telling your 'villain' how to get better?"

Dallas grins and shakes his head at both of them. "I have ulterior motives. Coyote I want to poach for my squad and you, Rashmi, are one of the few people around here who seems to want to win as much as I do. Which means that when you get better I have to get better to beat you." His grin turns entirely smug. "It's part of the game. Making it /your/ game."

"Well, keep poachin'. You never know what'll happen, right?" Coyote says with a grin, her attention suddenly falling back to the stretched out t-shirt she's wearing. "Hmmm… better get this fixed before something indecent happens, right?" Fingers wrapped around the collar, she demonstrates by pulling it out and upwards to it's new stretched limits.

Rashmi blinks, hurriedly snatching her scarf up from the ground next to her. "Um, here, Coyote. Borrow that until you get changed." Climbing back to her feet, she gives the orbs a little frown. "And *you.* I will beat you, one day. Now go away." As the orbs fade from sight, her eyes narrow, gaze flickering to Dallas, a slow grin spreading on her face. "And when I do, *you'll* want to watch out. Cause you'll be next."

Dallas watches Coyote adjust her shirt with a sort of detached attention and nods. "Yea, that might be a problem." He laughs as Rashmi hands over the scarf and says, "You know, the locker room is down the hall. You can get a t-shirt out of your locker." He looks back to Rashmi and says, "It's good to dream! That kind of thing is kind of cute. A little crazy … but cute!"

Coyote gladly takes the scarf, wrapping it around her neck paying most of her attention to where her t-shirt collar is stretched out. "True, but it might be able that time for me to crash out." The words are followed up by a long and loud yawn, her arms stretched out and back. "Thanks for the scarf Rashmi. I'll get it back to you tomorrow. And thanks for the words of confidence Dallas - you'll never get those back." Two brief waves and then the ghostly teen is on her way out of the gym.

Rashmi waves after Coyote. "Good night, then!" Once the blond has gotten a fair ways down the gym, she shakes her head, sighing. "You know… I sort of hope this isn't going to end up with me leading my team. I mean I don't know, maybe I wouldn't make it a disaster… but to be in *charge* of whatever competitions we end up having? Augh."

Dallas shrugs. "I'll trade you. My squad already has a leader and I need to prove I'm better." He looks off towards the court and says, "That isn't all that different from home, when you get down to it." He watches Coyote leave and turns back, "The thing about ending up the leader is that you just have to /assume/ you're in charge. Even if the other guys are bigger and stronger, if you get them in the habit of winning when you're in charge, you're good."

Rashmi makes an agreeable noise. "You're right, of course. I'm just not looking forward to having it out with Lucas if that time comes. *Again.*" Shaking her head, she looks up, blinking suddenly. "…Out of curiosity… D'you know a teacher they call Northstar?"

Dallas nods. "Skier. Gold medal in Japan." He pauses a moment and then adds, "Ah, he was also on Alpha Flight and the X-Men." It's obvious when one is more important to him, between athlete and superhero. "He has a good winning record and he's pretty tough. And Canadian. Which is weird. But okay I guess."

Rashmi's eyebrows rise sharply. "Really? Wow… good, then. Just found out today, he's in charge of our team."

Dallas nods and says, "Yea. Probably lucked out on that one. Not as good as Cyclops, but pretty old school." He looks off down the court again and says, "By the way, can you deal with me butting in on your team on one more thing?" It's uncommonly delicate for him.

Rashmi tugs her braid over her shoulder, eyes intent on Dallas. "Of course, go ahead."

Dallas pauses a moment and says, "You have Lucas, right? And Lucas has an attitude problem, right? I think part of that is that he has to wear those stupid gloves. If you get him something more, um, useable, he might lose some of that mouth." He looks back to Rashmi and adds, "There are these two guys, students, twins. Kind of Dr. Doom Jr. They might do it just for the challenge." He shrugs. "Or you can take it to the teachers. But you'll stand out more as a leader if you take care of team problems yourself."

Rashmi nods slowly. "Right… Those are the two who were talking about invading Atlantis, right…?" Her head tilts to one side, a genuine smile touching her face. "That's really kind of you, Dallas… thanks. I'll do that."

Dallas nods and grins again. "Not that kind. I want him to stop messing with people I like. And if we both end up as X-Men one of these days, I want /you/ to remember who taught you how to be a leader. So we don't have any arguments about who'll be in charge then." Oh so cocky. "And I should probably get some sleep myself."

Rashmi rolls her eyes, chuckling and shaking her head. "Right… keep telling yourself that, I guess… Can't have the big strong athlete lose his reputation, I guess." Picking up her book bag, she starts toward the door, patting Dallas' shoulder as she passes by. "Don't fool yourself too long, though… It'd be horrible if you were the last one to know how nice a guy you are."

Dallas snorts, "I'm just lulling you into a false sense of security." He can't keep a straight face as he says that, though. He watches Rashmi go and when the gym is empty, he looks round as though to make sure he's alone and then calls his shadow to him, merging with it until there is only inky blackness and the eclipse blaze of his eyes. With a yell he /leaps/, covering a good thirty feet in a single bound and slams the basketball in a dunk, hanging off the basket for a moment. By the time he drops to the floor, his shadow is gone and he's straightening his shirt, grinning ear to ear. "Ok, yea. That /is/ as fun as it looks." He's still snickering as he retrieves the ball and turns out the lights, leaving the room dark and silent again.

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