2010-12-08: My Apologies, Miss


Shane_icon.jpg Theo_icon.jpg

Summary: Theo comes to apologies to Shane for earlier unkindness. (See Just Add Christmas Cheer)

Date: Wednesday, December 8, 2010. 8:35pm

Log Title: My Apologies, Miss

Rating: PG-13

Xavier Mansion - Art Room

The Art Room has pictures of classic artists and small sculptures of famous pieces of art around the room. Any art supply you need may be found in this room, a large variety of paints, charcoals, markers, pencils, clays, canvases, easels, paper, and much more are accessible for the students. A large kelm is in one of the far corners of the room as well. On one side of the art room are a few sewing machines with a large variety of fabrics and sewing supplies for the students as well.

Mid-evening, and the Art Room is filled with the intermittent grint of a serger going full-bore. The piece of material that was being embroidered, now being run through the machine, back panels fastened to front, the whole thing slowly coming together. While the serger may not trigger much in the way of technopathy, being mostly mechanical, the shattering punk-metal being played on Shane's headphones, much easier to track. /Every day, convince myself, of everything I can and can't believe… Abused, confused…/

Theo doesn't bother to knock on the door. Shane's music makes her easy to locate, and he knows that she can't hear him anyway. The door swings open, and he trods in with his hands in his red and black coat's pockets.
He takes in a deep breath, and holds it for a moment before he walks up behind Shane and past her to sit in a chair that makes him easily visible. He's clearly a little tired, he just got back from work, and it was a long ride, but before he does anything else, there is an important conversation he needs to have. He doesn't attempt to interrupt her, though, choosing to have a seat patiently and wait for acknowledgment.

Hold onto your promise, you can use it for a crutch… Stand by while all your dreams are trampled in the dust… The serger chatters to a halt, Shane's glance flicking up toward Theo, eyes narrowing slightly, then back to the fabric, a practiced eye tracing the hems laid down. /Leave now before your slick machines begin to rust… Last chance, farewell…. among us!/ The cloth is laid down, the iPod tapped on to silence it, and the nearest ear-cup pulled aside in a very clear message; I'm listening, for now.

Theo isn't good at apologies, and it's several seconds before he speaks. "So…" he begins with a verbal bridge, as if the conversation was already moving. "I was a prick earlier today," he announces, as if it were something not obvious. "You hadn't done anything to me. I didn't have any good reason to do or say what I did." Regardless, he still of course did it, but he doesn't pretend he had some justification for it.

"My fault I guess," Shane says, quietly. "I should have known that someone who doesn't give a shit will probably use what you say to hurt you. Don't worry," she says, lifting a shoulder. "I won't bother you with my petty shit anymore."

"That wasn't where I was going," Theo answers dryly. "I didn't use stuff you told me to hurt you. I wasn't even thinking about you. I was just caught up on my own stupid crap. It was dumb and selfish. I didn't have any business dragging you into it. You were just minding your own."

"What was the one thing I told you pissed me off enough to blow up out there?" While Shane isn't quite flushed at the moment, her voice is quivering with tightly controlled anger; forced to run cold, instead of hot, her hands dropped to her lap. "Give it a think; figure out how you managed to without even thinking about it."

"You just wanted to be left alone," Theo answers quietly. "I didn't leave you alone." It wasn't the angle that he expected to be apologizing from. He pulls his hands from his pockets and leans back in the chair with a rather defeated look on his face.

"No. *No.*" Swatting the power button on the serger, Shane's jaw muscles seem to clench. "You didn't give me a *choice,* idiot. You just did whateverthehell you felt like, because you were pissed. Well, fine. I'd've left even if you just spoke up, but at least then there wouldn't be any hard feelings."

Theo sets his jaw forward as he's called an idiot. "Look. I know, okay? I'm a jerk. I get told that by somebody at this place almost every day. Somebody doesn't like me because of something I said, or something I did, or something I didn't do. I can't win around here. No matter what I do, it's never enough." The technopath throws his hands up in the air. "Hell, I can't even apologize without pissing you off further." He lets his arms drop limply at his sides, still sitting in the chair.
"I wasn't trying to get you to leave. I didn't care if you left. I didn't really even care about the music. I just wanted something to take away the stupid attention that people want to give me and tell me how I just need to express myself. People don't want me to express myself though, because when I do, they tell me I suck and everything's wrong with me. So I don't express myself, and I mind my own business, and then people pester me and ask why I'm not expressing myself. It's a vicious circle, there's no way to win. So I'm sorry I dragged you into it. I'm sorry I didn't give you a choice. So I guess you can just toss me in with everybody else that must be out to get you, whatever."

Shane says, "No. You apologized. I'm broken, I know, but that's more than I ever expect out of people. So, fine. You weren't thinking, and you messed up. Happens to everyone." Glancing back up, she lifts a radioactive-green eyebrow. "Doesn't matter if you were trying to get me to leave. You've got seniority, you want me to stop being obnoxious, I go. That's just how it is.""

"Seniority?" Theo says in a detestable tone. "Please. I don't respond to seniority. I don't expect anybody else to give it to me, either. You want my respect, you get it by acting like you deserve it." He points as he speaks so that Shane can see the focus. "That's why I am apologizing. Cuz you have my respect more than most of the people here. You don't try to dig into my past. You don't try to get me to tell you all my deep dark secrets. You just do your thing, and let me do mine. I should've let you keep doing yours."

Shane nods. "Yeah, you should've. And like I said, you apologized, fine. Less hard feelings." The serger is flicked on, and she runs another seam through, pulling out a handful of pins. "That's the difference, though. People need to earn your respect, cause you're the best nerd on campus, right? I've known people like you before. That's how you handle being the nerd. People like me? They just have to stay out of underfoot. Rules are different for the best and the rest. You should know that."

"I became the best because I didn't want to be the rest," Theo acknowledges. "I used to be the rest, too. Decided I'd rather be on top then bottom. I never was really popular at school, but I worked harder than anybody else. I never even really cared about electronics and technology before I came here. I just wanted to design trains." He laughs. "But what about you? You make these crazy looking costumes. Nobody else here I've seen can do this stuff. Cash in on it, make'm respect you for what you've got. It's not that I'm better than anybody else," Theo reveals. "I just make sure that what I'm good at gets pushed to the front of my image. That way if people hate me, they still gotta give me credit."

"Like I said. You're the best. You want it, you go for it, you get it." The top is held up, given a quick shake and a critical look. "Been on the bottom too long. *Way* on the bottom. 'S why I want to be left alone, get space to breathe and maybe wake up a little." The headphones are pulled down entirely, volume lowered before the song is resumed, deliberately punctuating her statement. Every day you get a little bit older, and everything gets hard you wonder why… Abused, confused… Every day you feel every crime, an endless shocking show on the parade… Afraid, deranged… Hold onto your promise you can use it for a crutch… Stand by while all your dreams get trampled in the dust… Leave now before your slick machines begin to rust. Last chance, farewell… among us!

Theo nods, "I guess I can see that," he says. Though personally, he was more of a fighter, unwilling to be on the bottom. "So how does the angry punk music factor in? It seems to be just about the only thing I ever hear you listening to. I think I'd go crazy if I listened to people rage about the world sucking. I mean, I think it does suck, but it'd be annoying if I heard about it all the time, too." His tone isn't judgmental, it's more curious.

Shane snorts, lips twitching upwards. "You ever follow punk, Theo? Metal? Be surprised what it's really about, where it comes from. Would you believe, those airy-fairy protest songs back in the 60s was where it got started?" Settling back in her chair, she folds up the top under construction, smoothing it out so the stylized wings on the backpiece show clearly. "Punk's a lot smarter than people give it credit for. 'S not just how the world sucks. Emo does that better and louder. Punk's about staring straight at something that's *really* fucked up, spitting on it, and going 'You. *You,* sir, are screwing up *badly,* and *I see you.*'

"Huh," Theo responds simply. "Never really followed much music, honestly. I mean, I listen to stuff on the radio, but just kinda like different beats." He gives a shrug. "Don't know many artists names or anything. That's pretty cool, though. I guess. Never would've put punk and hippie music together."

Shane nods. "Most people don't, that's why people don't listen to the message so much. Hippie songs are all 'Please, sir, can't you see this is wrong?' Punk's all 'This is wrong, you're wrong, you're stupid, and *fuck* *you.*'"

It's clear that Theo is out of his area of expertise, not having much to say on the matter. "Okay," he says, letting a lull fill the conversation. "Well, I don't want to keep you from your sewing and stuff," he says, uncertain where to take the conversation.

Shane lifts a shoulder. "S'fine. Can't go much farther till I've done the top and shorts anyway." She lets her own lull fill the room, then shakes her head. "Anyway, the music's mostly to keep me in the mood to shove back, is all. Plus, I like it, but I never really *listened* till I was in physical therapy, and my doctor was all about pissing me off hard enough to do the work I needed to get done. Like I said… I suck at fighting, anything, and I've only been doing it for a couple months now. So I need the boost."

"That's okay, I suck at fighting too. My power doesn't make itself much help for that, either," Theo answers. "So I guess we better not go be superheroes, we'll get our teeth kicked out pretty fast." He glances at the clock on the wall. "I'm kinda hungry. You hungry?" he asks. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can make a mean omelette." Hey, offering to cook for her is the least he can do after his actions earlier.

Shane lowers her hand, shutting off her iPod again, staring hard at the glittery wings picked out on the blue knit-fabric. It seems an age, before she manages a diffident "…Yeah all right, sure."

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