2012-12-12: PT Always Sucks


Amunet_icon.jpg Nicholas_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg

Summary: Shane, Nicholas and Amunet talk about how physical therapy sucks among other things.

Date: December 12, 2012

Log Title: PT Always Sucks

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.

Nicholas isn't in the art room to do any art, he's in here because it was quiet and there was no body in here. Even though it took him a while to get from the medical bay to the Art Room, he still managed. He's dressed in the jacket that Shane made him lying on the top of one of art tables with his hands over his stomach. Nick's eyes just focus on the florescent lights above him, his mind a million miles away.

The door to the Art Room opens, and in walks Shane, both arms burdened by a fairly large pile of bolts of fabric, very few the same color or makeup. Her chin rests on top of the pile, battered earphones clamped tight down on her head, and for some reason her eyes are bright with held-back tears, that seem to have very little to do with the pronounced limp she walks with. Pausing to push the door closed with an elbow, she blinks at the sight of Nicholas on the table, ducking her head away and skittering to the fabric racks on the far side of the room.

Nicholas looks up and pushes himself off the table to follow after her. "Hey Shane, need help with that?" And he doesn't even wait for an answer before he starts helping her with the fabric in he arms telekinetically. "You okay Shane?" He stops helping and goes to wrap her in a hug since she looks like she needs one. He doesn't care that his ribs are hurting form the hug, he hugs her anyway.

Shane blinks sharply as the bolts start to rise of their own accord, hurriedly sniffling and wiping a now-freed arm across her eyes. The hug startles her, enough to wince at the sudden shock put to her hip, but she shakes her head and pulls one cup of her headphones aside. "S'fine, Nick… Seriously. 'S just… found this guy. Was listenin' t'one of his songs. Kinda like… Iunno… rap poetry kinda stuff? Ain't usually my thing, but… dude's good." For once, however, she doesn't pull out of the hug, instead loosing a soft, shuddery sigh. "…Guess I don't gotta make y'another jacket, looks like?"

The door opens to the art room, and ever so slowly Amunet makes her way in. Wearing the coat that's still obviously too big for her, over her normal outfit. Held in her arms being a duffle full of ripped fabrics, apparently what's left of what she was able to salvage from her room. Her light blue eyes hav ing gone wide at finding the room she slowly steps in and wows softly, glancing over to Nicholas and Shane she gives a respectful nod and asks rather hestitantly, "May I… umm.. I just." POinting to the sewing area, her gaze pleading as she seems to be almost bouncing in excitement of having found the room. Still not having changed into her school gear other than the gloves that replaced her cotton ones, her rather worn out dress looking like it's seen better days.

Nicholas looks at Shane with a raised eyebrow. "Rap…poetry? And no, you don't. It was one of the six things that survived in my room. Glad about it." He breaks the hug and pulls a chair so he can sit down. "And you've seen me cry so don't worry about crying in front of me. So how's the hip? You recovering okay?" And he doesn't just mean recovering physically.

"PT sucks. PT always sucks. PT ain't gonna stop suckin' 'till th'world blows up," Shane says, electing to either misinterperet the question, or start with the easy answer. Hobbling over to the racks, she starts sorting the bolts of fabric by type, then color, and an amazing variety it is; plain cotton, denim, patterned polyester, gauzy muslin, a few bolts of thin suede, mostly either deep primary colors and shades of gray, with the occasional patterned cloth here and there. "Th' rest… enh. Ain't th'first time I—" She trails off, looking over her shoulder at AMunet and raising an eyebrow. "…'S th'school's, not mine. 'F y'want, help put this where it needs t'go?" And just like that, her convenient distraction appears.

The young girl seems to look over the two of you and after moving in the smallest bit more, she actually breaks into a smile and nods. Quickly setting down the duffle she moves over and says, "What ya need help with?" Either completely oblivious to the distraction she's offering or ignoring the tension and high emotion in the room. Though she does keep looking you both over at one point as if to look for something, waiting to be told what goes where as she aks, "You both feeling better?"

"Yeah it does, it's gotten harder now that my ribs are all healing up." Nicholas agrees in regards to Physical Therapy. He starts to help put things away using his telekinesis as directed by Shane. "Shane just needs to put all this away. I'm just helping her and trying to get away from the medbay for a bit." He takes a while to answer Amunet's question if he's feeling better and when he does it's with a shrug. "I'm alive."

Shane indicates where things ought to go with a negligent wave of her hand and a couple grunted words apiece, and before long a pattern begins to form; lightest cloth on top, arrayed from left to right by shade, from light to dark, then by color, from red to violet. Amunet's question earns the younger teen a half-shrug, and a pause of her iPod. "S'pose. 'Better…' kinda loaded 'round us, t'be honest," she says, slipping back into her habitual half-mumble. "Nick's pretty much got it; we're still breathin', so guess that's somethin'."

Amunet nods some and says, "I'm sorry you ended up hurt." her mouth opening momentarily as if to say more, though her gaze takes on a look as if remembering something and instead she just flashes a smile amnd goes on to helping. Making sure the stacks of cloth are smoothly stacked in the order she's directed. Squeeking once when she manages to step on the ripped hem of her own dress, muttering something in arabic under her breath in anoyance before continuing what she's directed to do.

Nicholas just gets really quiet, focusing on putting away the bolts of fabric without luckily having to move much more than his hand. He has the look of someone whose barely slept about him. "I always end up getting hurt by these guys, so…not your fault. You don't need to apologize." He mutters.

Shane tugs a roll of brown suede from Nick's telekinetic grasp, pausing to look between it and the now somewhat battered long-coat the boy wears. Lifting a fire-engine-red eyebrow, she waggles the bolt his way, before passing it off to Amunet to stoop down and put in the bottom rack. "*Coulda* made another, 'f I needed to. Mebbe Jill wants one?" Amunet herself gets a long, blank look, after which Shane simple closes her eyes and shakes her head a bit. "He's right. Don't need to… but thanks anyway."

Taking the piece of suede, Amunet crouches down, moving the other bolts to the side as she carefully makes sure it's put int he right place. Pulling it out at one point just to make sure it's put in the next slot colorwise. Hmming a bit, she pauses next to one of the fabrics of a rich teal fabric. Holding it up next to herself and against hmmming softly, ti's not much on pattern but seems to have a nice texture to it. It's at least a step up from what she has.

"It wouldn't be the same, this one is all battle damaged now." Nicholas says with a faint and quick smile. "I dunno, she's vanished again. It's not easy having a girl friend whose a vampire that takes off without saying anything." He tries his hide the bitter tone in his voice. "Maybe Q would like one? Hey Shane…I have an odd question for you."

"Patterns're in that cabinet there," Shane says as Amunet holds up the fabric, nodding to the cupboard doors to the right of the rack. Her brow furrows, as Nick leads off with his warning about an odd question, and she looks at the boy, puzzled. "….Yeh?"

Amunet blushes a bit and rolls the fabric back up tucking it back into place, "Oh thanks, no… ummm.. I'm not much for patterns. I like texture more really." Glancing to the two and as they go all serious agaihn she starts sorting out the threads. Though she does pause briefly at the whole 'vampire' mentioning, but otherwise she keeps herself quiet for the time being while helping out best she can.

Running a hand through his blond hair, Nicholas drops what he's holding. "Well, I was wondering if you could dye my hair, something that fades and doesn't last to long but just, I need to do something. I need to get out of the rut and…" He stops from going on and on as he remembers Amunet is in the room.

"Most'a what I got left's stuff that washes out," Shane notes, slipping a coil of rich crimson muslin into its place, "but yeah. Shouldn't be a problem." Pausing, she peers down at AMunet, clearing her throat. "Uh… I meant, uh… like, dress patterns 'n shit? Like, big hunks 'o tissue paper with th' cutout lines drawn on?"

Amunet blinks a bit and then blushes, "oh! Oh no I have one see?" Prqacically bouncing to her duffle where she pulls out a rather well worn dress pattern and holds it out. "This is the one I use for my dresses." It's about as plain as plain could be in the style you can tell she uses. High necks, long sleeves, little more than ankle length. With just a simple waistline, it doesn't even have a corset like ruching or anything. Not so much a beginner level, just ultra conservative styling.

"Wow, it seems like you grew up in the same nunnery Sophie did." Nicholas mutters surprised that people his age still dress like old women. "Thanks Shane. And that's fine, even just one day will be enough. That way if I hate it, I can wash it out. So, are you going home to Cali for the holiday?"

Before answering Nick's question, Shane looks at the boy, one eye squinting a bit, then to Amunet. "'S good practice, though, makin' a buncha other stuff. Go look, mebbe you'll see somethin' y'like, 'n wanna make." Turning back to Nick, Shane's jaw twitches. "Can't," she says shortly. "Still a fuckin' arrest-me-on-sight terrorist. Only way I'm goin' home's if th'school takes that big-ass jet 'n airdrops me next t'th'Hollywood sign."

Amunet looks over to Nicholas and can't help but laugh, "Nah… just something I got into once… well.. all this started to pop up. It's an outfit makes me feel… comfortable." Before then looking to Shane a bit and seeming to think about it, her lips twitching from one side to another before saying, "Well.. ok I'll look." Moving over to the cupboard with the different patterns in it. Looking specifically at the ones that are dresses.

"Isn't it starting to get to cold for a dress anyway?" Nicholas asks Amunet. "Sorry Shane, I should have thought about that. Didn't mean to bring it up." He's kicking himself inside for bringing it up. He gets really quiet again, just leaning forward on one of the tables and resting his head on the surface.

"'S what wool's for," Shane says, lifting a shoulder. "Get some good leggings wool dress, works out fine. Linin' works better, but then y'gotta ask y'self how warm y'wanna be with jus' th'one layer. Otherwise, y'usually better off makin' a jacket 'r somethin' t'go with." The apology, answered with a slow shake of the head and a half-shrug, a silent statement not to worry about it.

Amunet shrugs and says, "Cold doesn't bother me much, less it gets like 20 degrees or so… I just add leggings like she said and I do ok. Probably have use for the boots though the tennies are pretty much dead. And this coat works out real well, least wise till Mr. conner wants it back. Pulling out a couple of patterns, she looks them over and then puts one of them back before standing on hert toes a small bit to peek into the drawer a bit more. Having for all the world one of those looks like she'd crawl into it to rifle around if she could fit.

"I forgot, you're from the warm sunshine of California, I'm from North Dakota where it can get cold in the winter. And leggins you mean like tights?" He has no clue what the difference is. "Jeans and a Sweatshirt. Can't go wrong there." Nicholas says, his head resting on his arms on the table. "I miss Connor." He mutters after Amunet mentions it's his jacket. "And what's with calling him Mister Connor?"

"Y'basically," Shane says, hobbling to the nearest set of chairs and piling cushions up to make it more comfortable to sit, leaning to take the weight off the injured side of her hip. "An' that's just 'cos y'r a guy, Nick. No offense."

Amunet moves over a small bit and then lifts the edge of her skirt just enough to show a pair of skin tight legging pants under the skirt fabric that have socks tucks over the ankle hems. "Leggings." She says simply before moving over to the file again now with two patterns in hand. "I call him Mr. Connor cause it fits." She says simply. "Hmmm I wonder how hard these are to do." Looking over one before shrugging and putting it hback in the drawer.

Nicholas just raises his eyebrow at Amunet in a 'is this girl for real' expression. "….Okay." He says in regards to he reasoning why she calls Connor; Mr. Connor. "Guys have it right, we don't need to wear anything that's to tight between the legs."

"Man I ain't even goin' there," Shane snorts, shaking her head. "*Specially* not with you, Nick." Amunet gets a brief, puzzled glance, but with a visible shrug, brushes aside the strange.

Amunet just rolls her eyes at the look Nicholas gives her, "You asked." She says simply, "It's not like I stripped or anything." Pulling out a pattern she sighs, "Wish I could get away with this.. now that's a sweet pattern." Grumbling as she moves to take put it back, "Nothing wrong with wearing something tight if it doesn'ty constrict movement… not like it's leather or s…" Trailing off as she looks over towards the windowe for a moment, her brow furrowing as she pulls away from the drawer, starting to try and peer outside into the dark with a squinted gaze for a long moment before shrugging and turning to head back to the patterns again. "Going insane that's all there is to it.. need more sleep I guess."

"You're preaching to the choir there." Nicholas says to Amunet. "I haven't had a good, non-medicine induced sleep in over a year. "Shane and I are experts when it comes to staying up all night watching anime and bad movies when we can't sleep. I don't think I'm going insane though."

"Not from sleep," Shane supplies, wincing as she stretches out her injured leg. "You c'n tell, 'cos y'start seein' spiders 'n shit on the walls after a couple days." How she knows *that* pleasant little tidbit, the red-haired human grenade apparently declines to explain. "…Gonna hafta remember all the anime I had," she says as the thought occurs to her, "don't think *any* of it s'rvived."

And this gets Amunet's attention, "Anime and bad movies, now there's a fun combination… " Pulling out another couple of patterns and then moving rto one of the tables ans setting the four down, looking them over rather thoughtfully. "I don't think I've seen any anime or done a movie night in like a year… that could be fun, even if it's horrible." Looking over the patterns while she talks. None of them are particularly risky or 'fashionable' by most teen standards, but there's one of them that's more grecian in nature while one of them is actually a slitted skirt/leggings/tunic top combination, "Kinda like this one."

"What about your hidden ones in the rec room? I don't think the rec room got hit to hard. I could be wrong, everything is starting to go into blur mode." Nicholas nods to Amunet. "It is, especially when you need to get your mind off of things. I never saw Anime before coming here, well besides Dragon Ball Z. Which is awesome." He won't let anyone dispute that. "Well every time we've tried to have a movie night something messed up happens. Maybe you have to plan one without me."

"Man, you keep goin' on about DBZ an' I will glue your ass to the couch an' have me a Gurren Lagann marathon," Shane mutters, shaking her head. "…Haven't checked out th' Rec Room yet, don't remember what-all we'd stashed there. Gonna have to soon though, I guess; hear they're completely rebuildin' alla student stuff from scratch." Her eyes turn to the patterns Amunet holds up, and she purses her lips. "….Dammit new girl, now y'makin' my brain start. Quiddit. Also, what's y'favorite color?"

Amunet shrugs and says, "So don't plan it. Just get in the moood and do it, and whoever shoiws up shows up. Seems to me if planning it means something happens, stop planning it." Ah yes that fun teenage logic (or lack there of). "I like Dragon Ball Z, haven't seen it in a while, I used to watch a couple of the cartoons, but some of them were pretty stupid. Purely brain for the brain numbing." Then she looks to Shane and says, "I don't really have one… I /guess/ it would bhe something like…" Pausing and moving over to the fabrics she brings out a plum that has a rather greyish undertone so it's lighter than most. "I like this one, but textured. And what? I like that set of patterns, it would be different from my dresses but it's still a nice set." Looking at the one with the tunic top again, "Other than the whole leggingws thing it doesn't look /that/ hard. Leggings will be a pain in the ass though. And the names Amunet." She says as an after thought. "Nice loose sleeves, prefect room for my gloves."

Nicholas doesn't know anything about sewing, patterns, fabrics or any of that girly stuff so he just keeps his head down and half listens to the two of them go on about it. "Like you weren't going to try to do that if I brought up Dragon Ball Z or now." He says to Shane. "I heard some of those rumours as well. As long as they keep Ahmed and me roommates. I think besides Ahmed, Q or Lock are the only two people I could tolerate sharing a room with."

Shane peers at the pattern and starts sucking on a tooth, pursing her lips and nodding. "…..Mmn. Aight then. Gotta nother project t'do first, but… meh, fuckit. Ain't like I'm'a be able t'do much else f'Christmas. Even 'f it's late." Lifting a shoulder, she turns to Nick, smirking. "Well yeah I'm gonna, but that's 'cos it's ten times crazier'n DBZ could ever get. Trust me on that, it's total guy bait."

Amunet thinks for a long moment and then asks, "Will you teach me to make 'em instead? I mean its christmas and all I don't wanna give you too much to do. And I like sewing. Relaxes me." Glancing to the two of you as you both go on and on about DBZ and her eyes roll going back to what she's looking at, "Can't decide which one I want."

"That's right, Christmas." Nicholas says honestly forgetting the holiday was coming up. "I think I'm gonna find a hole to hide in and wait until Christmas and New Years is over and then I'll venture out. I'm grumpy enough as it is, I don't need to subject you all to me having to deal with another Christmas. I thought it'd be easier this year."

Shane draws in a breath, and shakes her head. "Not like I'm thinkin'," she says to Amunet. "'S like… been doin' costumes 'n shit since I hit m'teens. 'N Ms. Frost got me tryin' other stuff. So… wanna see what I c'n do, 'n if it's good or shit 'r whatever. Ain't sayin' you shouldn't do y'own, just… wanna try, y'know? See what I c'n do." For Nick, the girl simply reaches out a hand, laying it on her friend's shoulder and squeezing.

Amunet oooh's and nods to Shane, "well… huh." And then shrugs faintly. Gathering up the four patterns again before lokoing around. Moving ov er to her duffle she pulls out a notebook and writes down ther reference numbers. Before then moving to put the patterns back into the cupboard. "Well.. i think I interrupted you two earlier… you got anything else ya need help with Shane? If not I'm gonna go open up one of the school books try and see if I can't bore myself to sleep over the arabic lessons again."

Nicholas reaches up and grabs Shane's hand in return, giving it squeeze in return. "You didn't interrupt anything, I was just in here getting away from everyone and Shane was putting away fabric. I was just in the right place at the right time to help her put it away." He lets go of Shane's hand and keeps his mouth shut in regards to Anmunet's Arabic lessons. "We're just hanging out, I mean if you want to stay you're welcome to. I know I'm not the best company."

Shane shrugs. "Up t'you," she says, in contrast to Nick's longer speech. Her eyes stray back to the faded-plum fabric, head slowly tilting to one side as ideas are sifted for and set aside, for later review.

Amunet justy grins at Nicholas and shrugs, "See ya both later, thanks for letting me invade for a little bit." Rolling her neck at one point as her gaze flicks to the window briefly and then she shakes her head, "Really gotta get some sleep, I swear I'm so over sensitized it's driving me nuts." Moving to head out after slinging her bag back on her shoulder again. "Maybe the doc'll knock me out if I ask nice."

"Good luck." Nicholas says to Amunet giving her a wave before resting back on the table. "I'm sorry Shane." He mutters into his arms. "God Shane, I'm such a freakin' wreck. I don't want to be trapped in this school anymore."

"Yeah I don't either," Shane murmurs, levering herself out of her chair and pickng up the stacked cushions, limping over to take a seat closer to Nick. "'S drivin' me totally batfuck. 'S why I'm puttin' th' art room shit back… Gonna wanna hide out here f'r awhile 'n jus' try t'be happy. 'N if I can't do that, then least I c'n have somethin' little an' stupid to bitch an' swear about. Works almost as good."

Amunet pauses in the doorway and looks to the strap on her shoulder. Moving back over to the table she mutters to herself before the sound of crinkling cellophane is heard. Pulling out what looks to be an unopened small package of oreo's she sets them on the table between you two and then turns and walks back to the door way. Stuffing her hands back in her coat pockets as she goes, calling out, "Baaamf! Come on! I'll letcha curl up on the coat again!"

Nicholas looks up at the oreos and blinks. "I love oreos." Is all he can get out before looking to the door and noticing that Amunet is gone so he can't say thank you. "Horseback riding was my main thing to keep me sane but I've been healing for a while now and haven't gotten to go out with Orion in a long time. I've been going stir crazy on top of everything else."

Shane pauses, frowning deeply as a thought occurs to her. "Hey, Nick? How much can y'carry with y'r head? Just… curious, y'know?"

"Huh?" That wasn't anything Nick thought would be coming out of Shane's mouth at that. "Last time I tested I think it was about two tons? Why?"

"….Y'think maybe you could ride on Orion without, y'know… actually sittin' on him?" At that, Shane shrugs. "Just thinkin'. Prolly be hard, but if y'could like, keep a grip onna saddle with y'head, 'n th'reins with y'hands, think that'd work okay?"

Nicholas shakes his head. "No, it wouldn't be the same cause I need my legs. That's the main problem, I need to use my legs to kick him and also a lot of the body contact is how you communicate when riding. It's just be awkward and I'd be afraid I'd be putting too much pressure on his sides with my mind stuff. It was worth a shot though with asking." He pushes himself up and frowns. "I should probably be getting back to the medbay soon. I might take a page out of Amunet's book and ask for something to help me sleep."

"Mmmmn," Shane says, shoulders slumping a bit. "Aight, then… G'nite Nick." Her eyes wander to the fabric racks as Nick gets ready to leave, fingers already dropping to her iPod. And the last thing that Nick hears as he reaches the door, is rapid-fire free-verse poetry. And when I ask you to remember… It's because the future… isn't what it used to be. So remember now. Pay tribute to every sacrifice laid upon the altar of 'somehow,' for all the times 'somehow' we overcame. 'Somehow' we pushed on. 'Somehow' we've gone the distance, and in going there we are free to map the uncharted lands of 'Anywhere,' we are *unbound.*

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