Players: Nathaniel, Quenton, and Xorn
Summary: Xorn is meditating outside the Mansion when Quenton and Nathaniel come upon him.
Date: September 22, 2011
Log Title: Mistaken
Rating: R
Xavier Mansion - Right Path
A brick path off the courtyard cuts through the grass to lead to the other areas on the outside grounds of Xavier's. There are a few benches that line the path so students can sit and enjoy outside. Either side of the path the grass is well manicured and has enough room for students to have a picnic, play Frisbee, or relax and study. At night there are small lamps that raise three feet off the ground to provide light.
It is early evening at the Xavier Institute and with most students at dinner, Shen Xorn finds this another ideal time for meditation and time to train and work on himself and his own powers. Even X-Men require training and power control. Dressed in white robes acquired from a Buddhist monastery with red sashes adorned with gold X-Men insignia, heavy breathing can be heard eminating from this path. Though with no direct source, the sound seems simply to come from the air itself as Xorn’s disembodied breathing signifies his concentration. Small warps and shifts in gravity can be felt in the area restricted to this path. Hovering above the ground, his mask glows as he meditates.
Quenton had decided to skip dinner. He doesn't like any of the other students, and even if he did, he'd want to stay away from them even more. Instead, he had opted to go to the woods, and on the way there, who could he see, but Xorn? He was dressed as he always dressed, either in pitch black or pure white, the latter, this time, his clothes almost glowing in the orange sunlight. He hovers off the ground as well, willing himself to fly, and begins to try to quietly float around the odd mutant, so that he doesn't disturb him.
Still in meditation, Xorn appears to not notice Quenton, but in reality the Asian mutant is keenly aware of his senses. When Quenton floats about him, he may notice weird fluctuations going askew as the glowing mask seems to momentarily burst and flash. Gravity has returned to normal around the area and a disembodied voice simply utters, “Hello.” Lowering himself to the ground and then rising to his feet, he turns to face Quenton. His mask radiating energy from its eyelets. He bows, “I am Shen Xorn.”
Quenton notices the change in gravity, though for the moment, due to his strength, it's too subtle for him to be slowed down, though he does push against it, furrowing his brow. Then he lands, and glances towards Xorn, taking a careful step back. "Are you one of the newer X-Men?" he wonders, glancing over the man's robes a moment, hands shoving into his pockets.
Responding in a ghostly whisper filling the path, “Yes, I am.” Examining the boy, “Are you one of the newer student?” Xorn asks in kind as he moves to a bench and serenely sits noting the peace in the area. “I am also one of the professors at the institute as well as work with the Alpha Squadron.”
"Yeah, I'm a new student," Quenton says, taking a small step back at the sound of Xorn's voice. This was by far the creepiest mutant he's met. "And what do you teach?" He tries to relax himself, but he's still tense, and rigid. His powers never let him actually relax.
“Perhaps this is better.” Xorn speaks telepathically directly into Quenton’s mind. “Some students find my voice to be ‘scary’ and sounding like someone people have referred to as Darth Vader. I am not sure who this Darth Vader though.” Putting his legs up on the bench and sitting in a Buddhist meditative pose, Xorn continues, “I teach meditation, Chinese, and various yogic and Eastern Philosophy classes. I will also run Danger Room sessions for students from time to time.”
"Darth Vader? He's the Emperor's Appre-" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he scratches at the back of his neck, averting his eyes, now. Meditation. That might hurt, but he doesn't want to do it around other students. Maybe… "Do you do private lessons?" he wonders. "I uh… I ain't a people person," he explains.
Continuing the conversation telepathically as the X-Man sits crossed-leg style on a bench dressed in Buddhist robes with red sashes adorned with the X-Men insignia, where a typical human’s head would be is a large metal mask that flashes with black globules of harmless gravitational energy from time to time. “I can. Tell me, young man. Is there something wrong? My abilities allow me to sense a person’s aura, energy, and emotions and now yours seem…confused?”
"I'm not confused," Quenton promises, wetting his lips now as he stares at Xorn's masked face. "There's nothing wrong." Xorn, and Nathaniel, when he shows up, could tell that the boy mostly feels anger, sadness, and yeah, perhaps right now, confusion. He lifts a hand to his head. Mental powers, too? This Xorn guy was gifted. Really gifted. "Anyway, that's not why I need you. I don't need a guidance counselor, I just need a shortcut to controlling my anger."
Nathaniel is just your standard alumni weirdo, meandering on school grounds for no clear purpose other than to probably find some reason to avoid doing homework. He has his hands in his pockets as he makes his way onto the scene, slowing as he catches sight of Xorn and then Quenton; beyond a nose twitch, his expression is inscrutable. He considers a way to try and pass through without interrupting, uh, whatever it is they're talking about, apparently on his way towards the woods.
Knowing that the boy is indeed confused and feeling his other emotions as well, Xorn continues telepathically, “I work with students to control their abilities. Meditation and relaxation are ways that work for some students and allows them to focus. Those with much on their minds, burdened by anger and rage, can find relief and ultimately power with such clear focus.” Moving his hands, the lamps around the path seem to dent and bend as gravity is applied to them. For a moment they become misshapen, but with another gesture the bends and dents are gone and the lamps are returned to normal. Having heard the thought of mental powers and being gifted, Xorn continues, “There is more to my abilities than mental powers. And while some consider it gifts. Other consider my abilities in particular a curse. I, myself, take them as simply being part of who I am. No more. No less.” When Nathaniel appears, Xorn’s disembodied voice fills the pathway, “I sense a kindred spirit.”
Okay, in Quenton's head, too. This was getting even creepier, before he shifts and glances about, at Xorn's words. Seeing Nathaniel, his first words are: "This fucking guy." And then Xorn can hear why. Quenton's additude towards other is actually driven by a need to protect them. The more he pushes them away, the less likely he'll be able to injure them physically. "Hey, there, precious. Reliving the glory days, still, wandering around, seeing a school that no longer wants you? Have you seen the new Danger Room? God, it's sexy." Quenton was, well, lying about the danger room. But he's trying to get to Nathaniel's head. He glances back towards Xorn. "Yeah, well. Here's some news, metalhead. It's a curse."
Nathaniel stops dead at Xorn's disembodied voice, recognizing it for what it is even without the helpful discussion regarding mental powers. He immediately lifts two fingers as if to ward Xorn off, his emotions mostly filling in with an instinctual speed: suspicious, mistrust, and aversion. Not a big fan of psychics, apparently, despite his own empathic powers - or maybe because of them. Either way, he frowns at Xorn while making that small 'x' gesture, then drops his hands back to his pockets. He walks closer, albeit a little stiffly, and smirks at Quenton, "Monsieur. Please. This school didn't want me when I was here. I can't blow anything up and, damn, I just suck at math." He smiles brightly after a few seconds and makes a show of cocking his head and batting his lashes all the same, "But I just /knew/ you'd be heartbroken if you didn't see me again, so, well, here I am." He drops the act abruptly to focus on Xorn, unable to do much about the slightly uneasy attitude directed at him, "Uh. And you're…?"
If he could sigh and shake his head, he would, but alas no head for Xorn. He places his hand on the ‘chin’ of the mask and begins to hover above the bench only a foot or two. Telepathically to Quenton, <I regularly meditate out here to get away from the more rambunctious students. Should you want to join in, I welcome the opportunity for you to learn some techniques. They may work. They may not.> Continuing the remainder of the conversation aloud, his voice utters, “I am Shen Xorn. X-Man and professor here at the institute. And you are?”
Quenton glances between Xorn and Nathaniel, tenser now. He can be read like an open book between these two mutants, and well, frankly that scared him. His body is rigid, fists clenched, but he puts on his "normal" face. "Yeah, if I was this school, I wouldn't want you either." He glances back towards Xorn. He doesn't know how to focus his thoughts directly, so he whispers them aloud. "I'm more rambunctious then the rambunctious students, trust me."
Nathaniel eyes Quenton for a few seconds before he waves a hand at him, "Calm down. I turned myself off, just for you. Your emotions aren't that interesting, anyway." He tucks his hands into his pockets and seriously considers giving Xorn a blow-off answer and trying to escape the situation. If Xorn's paying attention, Nate's emotions are pretty simple themselves most of the time: fear or anxiety mixed with anti-social tendencies. Hurray for him. He licks his lips slowly before shrugging and rifling through his pockets, eyes downcast for the process, "Nathan. Nobody important. I used to go to school here." He finds what he's looking for - a sucker, the likes of which Quenton saw him whip out the other day - and unwraps it so he can stick it in his mouth, staving off the sweet, sweet cigarette cravings.
<Well, at times, I welcome noise. It may be nice to have a challenge an at the same time, I spent so many years alone due to people afraid of my abilities that I welcome challenges from time to time. Who is your squad leader, Quenton?> Xorn offers all that telepathically. Then in response to Nathaniel, “Well, welcome back to the Institute, Nathaniel. I always find it ideal for alum to return to show the current student body that there is life after Xavier’s. Perhaps, Quenton can learn a something from you. How have you found life outside these walls?”
"Like I give a damn how interesting or not you feel my powers are," Quenton utters, shrugging his shoulders while he eyes the lollipop and watches the man, before crossing his arms over his chest, turning his eyes towards Xorn. "My squad leader is Kenta," he whispers quietly. And then aloud. "And if there's something i can learn from this jackass, I'll pass, thanks."
Nathaniel takes another one out of his pocket and wiggles it at Quenton for all the eyeballing his lollipop is getting. If he doesn't take it, Nate'll just shove it away again, but as it is, he focuses on Xorn and shifts from one foot to the other, "I don't think I'm the best person for that kind of thing. I'm an art student with a flat and I do part-time jobs. I have one real friend and… he works here. It's not really the sparkly post-Xaviers lifestyle people might hope for." He jerks a thumb when Quenton adds his own opinion, more or less using it as another reason he's not the best candidate. If he finds it odd that Quenton is answering questions he can't hear, it doesn't show; he doesn't.
<Ah, Mr. Gilpatrick is a fine young man an a good teacher.> Xorn then offers to Nathaniel “Your occupation is only one facet of your life. It is ultimately how you feel with your place in the world that decided if you ‘sparkle’ or not.” Lowering his body back to the bench, he swings his legs on the ground and leans back, “Also, Nathaniel, if you feel you need assistance, the school is always welcoming of his former students and to some is a home.”
"I don't want what you use to practice for blowjobs," Quenton mutters, obliviously, perhaps. He turns away from Nathaniel, pressing his lips tightly together. He then shrugs his shoulders towards Xorn's telepathic statement, having not much to say on that. He simply falls silent now, watching the two older mutants interact.
"I use actual guys for that," Nathan says to Quenton with a wry drawl, "This just keeps me from smoking." He leaves it in his mouth after that, though it makes his voice sound a bit odd, all so he can put his hands in his pockets again. He blinks at Xorn, shaking his head and moving down the path a little bit, "No thanks. Since leaving here, I haven't been turned into anything, I haven't been shot at, blown up, driven crazy, nobody I know has disappeared or died. I'm good with my crappy little apartment, thanks. If certain things hadn't changed, I'd still be avoiding this place like the plague."
The comments about blowjobs and sucking men off simply go over Xorn’s head or he chooses to ignore them, either way…”Well, then you are satisfied with your life. That is all one can really hope for, I suppose. And if you don’t mind my asking, what has changed that brought you back? And since you’ve returned have any of those things occurred?”
Quenton doesn't know if Nathaniel's serious or not, but it's the kind of thing where, despite his insulting, he'd not judge the man for. Jake was gay. Jake. He missed his best friend. The brother that accepted him. He turns his eyes towards the man while he speaks, lip twitching. He's been shot at since he came to the school, but not on school grounds. The September 11th issue where he beat up all those people. Quenton keeps his mouth shut about it, though. "He came back because he couldn't stand a life without me," he explains to Xorn.
Nathaniel fidgets in place for a second, looking decidedly uncomfortable now; he's social, at heart, or wants to be. It's hard for empaths to be completely antisocial, to his mind, but the urge is there and he wars internally over whether or not to get into this actual conversation. He sucks on the lollipop, twisting it back and forth before he lifts a hand to pluck it out, licking his lips clean, "Everyone I used to know here is pretty well gone. Somebody I thought I'd killed is alive. Now I have a couple new people here I know. I still don't trust this place, but I have less of a reason to avoid it." He rolls his shoulders with increasing discomfort, then turns his feet pointedly, "Plus, yeah, I'm secretly in love with fussypants there." There's not a lot of heart in the quip, though, and he waves his lollipop-holding hand as he moves to continue on towards the woods.
Nodding as Nathaniel, “So after what seemed like terrible burden and hardship, things are starting to change. That is wonderful. I hope someday, you find that the school is not such a bad place. But this is a start.” Standing up he looks between the two, “Oh I am sorry, gentlemen. I did not realize you were both lovers.” He bows to the two, “So another reason for you to be happy as you are in love then.” With that he rises up, “I apologize but I must meet with the Alphans. Please excuse me.” With that he is gone.
Someone he thought he killed. So Nathan's capable of killing people. That makes Quenton glance over at him. Q has killed before, too. Six men, Russian KGBs. They killed Jake. He lost control. The youth's thoughts are on the surface, and he glances up after Xorn, then scowls at Nathan. "Now he thinks we're lovers. Thanks, asshole." He moves towards the bench, grabbing onto it and lifting it onto his shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"
Nathaniel blinks at Xorn's apparent assessment, pausing to droop in place and huff a sigh, "Why do people keep doing that?" He straightens and sighs, shaking his head and waving at Xorn with a flat look on his face only to arch a brow at Quenton, "To the woods. I'm going to check and see if I can run into either a wolf or a grandma. Either way, it'll be exciting." He doesn't even fully turn to face Quenton, just standing there with his side to the other man, popping his sucker back into his mouth, "Are you supposed to just… pick up benches?"
"Who's gonna stop me?" wonders Quenton to Nathaniel, even tossing the bench up, rather far into the air, before floating up to grab it before it crashes down. "I was headed to the woods too, for different reasons. I don't want to find a grandma. That's just too weird for me." He places the bench on his shoulder now, once more. "I need some aggression I need to take out on a hapless tree."
"What? Grandmas make cookies. How could you not want cookies? What's wrong with you?" Nathan says with an incredulous expression, though he shrugs as he turns to continue on down the path, "Fine for me. Just try to make sure there's nobody under the tree when you knock it down. And don't bitch about my smoking." He is apparently unbothered by the whole bench-hefting thing, though he's already coming up with about a hundred 'so how much can you bench?' jokes.
"My lungs are healther than normal," Quenton mutters, almost bitterly. At Nathan's reaction though, he drops the bench, which crashes into the ground, and then shrugs his shoulders while he shoves his hands into his pockets and traipses after the other mutant, yawning obnoxiously loud before sniffling and falling silent. "Anyway, I can bake cookies better than any old lady could."
Nathaniel winces at the loud sound the bench makes, shaking his head with a soft sigh and then continuing on towards the woods, "Really? Man, then we do need to become friends. I love cookies and stoves have a coalition of hatred against me." Once they're a ways away from the school, or at least enough that he doesn't have to worry about David showing up and giving him a Disapproving Look, he gets out a cigarette and lights it. The lollipop winds up on the side of the path, forgotten and unloved, and as he exhales his first lungful of destructive smoke, he glances over at Quenton, "Not to be a dick about it, but they say aggression needs a constructive outlet. Why don't you, like… punch down decaying trees before they collapse and kill someone? Or… I don't know. Move rocks. Something useful."
"And what do you do that's useful?" wonders Quenton as they move onward. "Smoke every cigarette you could so that the rest of the world doesn't have to? The nicotine addicted martyr?" Now he's just drawing straws, but he doesn't seem to ind. "Anyway, I wouldn't cook for anyone else but myself, and rarely that. At the same time, I can't even cook, at the moment." His strength is still out of control. And he fears if he rages again, he'll lose even more control. "Anyway, I plan to take aggression out on some trees as we speak."
Nathaniel shrugs casually enough at that, "I don't do anything. I don't take out hapless benches, I don't save kittens. I do jack shit and just try to keep out of trouble. The most I've done recently is try to help a buddy get laid." He flicks ash to the ground, his tone less affronted and just frankly conversational. Taking another drag on the cigarette, he looks alongside at Quention and nods his head, "I'm just saying to pick and choose the trees, dude. Honestly, it's none of my business if you turn into a raging psychopath or wind up punching trees in the name of good. If it's the first, they'll find a way to put you down; if it's the latter, they'll probably give you a job. I'm pretty sure I can keep you from killing me, if it comes down to it, so I don't worry too much." That's a… responsible outlook.
(There is more to the scene, but this is up to the time I left.)
