2012-01-13: Return of the Twit


Jill_icon.jpg Nicholas_icon.jpg Nigel_icon.jpg

Quenton_icon.jpg Warlock_icon.jpg

Summary: Quenton and Nicholas butt heads with poor Jill in the middle. Again.

Date: January 13, 2012

Log Title: Return of the Twit

Rating: R (Foul Language)

Xavier Mansion - Recreation Room

What was once the Parlor has been turned into a Recreation Room for the students. A nice plush carpet meets the light blue walls giving it a homey feel. A pool table at one end, a foos ball table at the other, and entertainment center with video game systems, movies, and of course, cable TV. Big comfy chairs and couches surround a coffee table for comfortable loafing. Long glass windows with a pair of French doors line one side of the room bringing in plenty of light during the day. The main rule in here is to clean up after yourself.

The rec room. Quenton is there, yes. He's… sleeping. Peacefully. Not even a snore comes from the savage beast in his natural environment. On his lap is… a laptop, believe it or not, but there's something strange about it. It is sleek and slim, to slim to be any normal model. On the back of the laptop is a symbol that is very different, not coming from any popular brands. Not even Alienware. The tall mutant is in a new hoodie, blue and skintight, symbol on it that is also odd.

Fed up of schoolwork for the day Warlock was hoping to find one of the games consoles are free, Dressed in dark jeans, a blue lantern corp t-shirt and dark blue sneakers with his schoolbag over his shoulder he enters the room and spots the sleeping Quenton, he's about to back out of the room to avoid waking him up when he notices the abnormalities, walking closer he frowns trying to figure out if he's seen those symbols anywhere before…

The symbols mean nothing, at least to Warlock, though they are still very fancy and pleasing to the eye. The red eyed mutant's eyes snap open and he clutches the thin laptop to him tightly, possessively. "What?" he woders, now, eyeing Warlock suspiciously. "This thing only recognizes my voice." Well. Voice recognition. That's interesting.

Nigel wanders into the Rec Room, the smell of Chinese food drifting in with him as he carrys a large brown bag with a local chain's logo on it, and a cube of Pepsi max cans. Entering the room he spots the pair and would wave if his hands weren't full but he catches the voice remark. "Ah wondered when you'd figure that out and ask for one of those. Nice piece of tech. Anyone hungry?"

Warlock jumps back a little when Quenton suddenly wakes up, "Oh!, sorry the sym.. that's voice controled?, that's mad cool", he gives a wave to Nigel as he walks in and shakes his head at the offer of food, "Nope i'm good thanks", he turns his attention to Quenton's 'tech', "What is it anyways?"

"It's only voice controlled to log in. Some weird special tech that's unbreakable and only responds to a certain amount of pressure," Quenton grumbles. "So while I can log in it's a bitch to do anything else. Apparently aliens made it," he mutters, squinting at the computer. "I don't know if I believe all that, but it is fucking fancy. He grunts. "The issue is finding the proper pressure to use it. Our doorknob is like that now, too, so I actually have to grip it with the correct pressure, lower myself down to human level somehow." He grunts. "And I have a pen with the same pressure control."

Nigel nods and smiles "Ah they're conditioning you to control your power level, or at least try to. Nice way to go about it actually. Though honestly I think part of your power issues are similar to what I have, but that's just a theory." He sets the bag on the coffee table and the pepsi cube beside it.

Warlock hmmms, "That seems a little harsh, kinda throwing you in at the deep end, if you cant control your power, you cant use the web?, is it working at all?", he walks over and sits himself down in one of the empty chairs, "So those funny symbols are some sort of alien language? sounds interesting, how does this place know aliens, i thought this was just a school for mutants?"

Quenton eyes Nigel now, tilting his head at the other mutant's words. "I don't turn into an indestructible cartoon," he mentions to the other boy, hand dropping as he grunts, flipping the laptop open, muttering a, "On," to it, causing it to boot up. There's no log in screen, no humming sound, just the desktop popping up, the computer running Windows 7 at the moment, but the programs are there instantly, as is the wallpaper with the big high definition X on it. "I don't know about the whole alien thing," he admits to Warlock. "I doubt the White Queen would make up something like that though."

Nigel looks to Warlock "You havn't been into the Danger room yet have you? This place has a ton of tech that couldn't have been made on this planet." He looks back to Quenton. "I didn't mean our powers are similar, but we both share a similar problem. I think the term is 'Power by Association Syndrome'."

Warlock shakes his head, "Nah, i was supposed to go a couple of times but i came down with flu so got outta it but i've been asked to sign up for any non-squad sessons to catch up a little", he looks over at Quenton, "If you want some help doing computer stuffs i'll give you a hand, i've not had any strength issuses resently so i should be able to".

"Power by Association Syndrome? What are you babbling about? In English?" Quenton asks Nigel, before glancing over to Warlock, muttering back in reply; "I don't need any help." Saying that too quickly, his finger moves to the mouse pad, the pointer irregularly shaking against the screen as it tries to find a program to click onto.

Nigel chuckles "Simple.. your powers are triggered by somthing. Mine are activated by a verbal command. If I can't give that command, I can't use my powers. Yours seem to be linked to your emotional status, since you've said in the past that getting mad makes you stronger. Goes to figure that since you always seem to be ticked off about somthing, your powers are in a constant state of activation. Using the pressure sensitive items forces you to focus to make them work, which most likely at least for a second or two calms you down a little and lowers your power level."

Warlock scratches his head, "But if he gets frustrated by not being able to do it won't that make him angrier?", he reaches into his bag and pulls out his glasses before sticking the tv quietly onto a music channel, "What used to make you feel calm before you got your powers?, maybe you can use the same thing".

"Playing the piano and cooking got me calm," Quenton mutters. "And I can't do that with my strength having the issues I'm having now," he mutters, while he struggles with the touch pad, lip twitching. Nigel's explanation causes him to look over the mutant suspiciously. "Doesn't every mutant have Power by Association syndrome?"

Nigel shrugs "To a degree I suppose every mutant does. But there's a difference between power by association and simple ritual. Mutants like Ahmed seem to be able to use thier powers at will with no requirement, while others have a certain phrase or motion they association with thier powers, but might not actually need it to use them, like how the human torch hollars "Flame ON!" but then there's plenty of footage of him using his abilities without saying it. You and I are at the extreme end of the spectrum, our abilities are fully linked to thier triggers. Not sure what I can do to overcome mine, but for you I'd reccamend either seeing Professor Xorn for some medition techniques.. or mabye a superhuman dose of Ritalin." Nigel pauses "Er sorry not Ritalin that's a stimulant.. you'd need a depressant.

"What if that Simulator thing in the Danger Room was made to do a piano, then you could basicly play one without bracking it", Warlock frowns at Nigel's explaination, "Where do i fit in then?, my powers seem to only really work when they feel like it, and they seem to like inconvinance, the art teacher still doesn't seem to like me very much", he very quickly changes the channel as a new song comes on.

"I hate that fucking Danger Room," Quenton mutters. "I was kidnapped somehow and teleported there, with mutant zombies that were getting stronger than me the more I fought with," he mentions. He shakes his head. "So wait. If your power needs a voice command, Animaniac, then why don't you just not say the command word?"

Nigel looks to Quenton and smirks a little "Most of the time I don't, but I'm trying to overcome to little handicap so I can change at will, or use my powers without having to transform fully. Plus for some reason I've started talking in my sleep.. meaning wildcard gets loose from time to time without my mind in control. It's not pretty."

Deciding it for the best that he stop making suggestions to Quenton, Warlock returns his focus onto the tv flicking though different channels, "So is wildcard like a seperate person? and when you're sleeping he sees it at his turn with your body?", he's read some stuff about DID whe na friend thought they had it, they didn't.

Walking into the Rec Room is one Nicholas Gerhardt. His hands are shoved into his pockets as soon as he walks in and stands there looking around. "Is the television taken and if not, anyone mind if I use it?" He asks shrugging slightly. There isn't much enthusiasm in his voice as he asks.

The rec room is the hot place to be, 'cause all the cool kids are doing it. The resident blue girl wonder drifts by in the hallway, stopping in the door frame and peering in without entering or announcing herself. Jill chews slowly like an undecided cow and blows a silent pink gum bubble. Four people already fill the room and a fifth might push it to some sort of critical capacity, but there isn't really anywhere else to be.

Quenton glances over towards Nicholas. He has a sleek looking laptop in his lap, looking highly advanced, opened up to reveal the standard issue laptop wall paper for the Xavier's Academy students, though the laptop itself sure isn't undecided. At the sight of Jill, his lip twitches, upper one curling in a half snarl. "I'm not using it, he grunts to Nicholas, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "Long as you don't put on a farm simulator and country music."

Nigel shakes his head, moving to take a plastic fork and a carton of general tso's from the paper bag on the coffee table. "It's a little complicated.. more a Jekyll and Hyde thing. He is everything I am.. everything I know, everything I love etc. But he has none of the mental filters or self control. When I'm awake I can steer what he does but not fully control it. It's like sitting in the passenger seat of a car with one hand on the wheel while somone else has a hand on the wheel and control of the gas and brakes. When I'm asleep however, he has no concious mind.. he locks onto a single fleeting thought and works towards that goal, no reason or logic, just spewing one-liners as a force of pop culture gone mad. Last time I had an 'episode' I went to bed hungry, I woke up when Xorn gave me a mental jolt and found out wildcard had wrecked the kitchen and consumed every bit of junk food he could find. I think Sage is still traumatized." He gives a wave to the new arrivals "Chinese here if you're hungry."

Nicholas looks over at Quenton and shakes his head. "No, no country music and I'm not a farmer, I grew up more a rancher, there's a difference." He says as he walks over to the video games and fishes out Dead Rising 2. "I just need to go around and kill some zombies or something." He says slipping in the game. "So…uh…how was your break?" He asks Quenton sounding fairly unemotional, that is until Jill comes in and he looks at her. "Jill, how'd the mission go?"

Jill's eyes meet Quenton's for only a moment but his sneer is enough to make her look away quickly. "Umm, thanks," she replies quietly to Nigel's offer, padding in quietly on stockinged feet to stop by the back of the couch. "But I ate yesterday." Fidgeting a little and choosing her words carefully, Jill gives Nick a thumbs up. "Pretty good. I got what I went for, anyway. More or less…" she finishes in a mumble, slipping her school-issued phone from her pocket and fiddling with it like she's got something important to do.

"Better than yours," Quenton replies easily to Nicholas, glancing to the television. The zombies makes his lip curl even more. "Oh, you gave yourself a mission? Did anyone tell Miss Frost about it? Or are those only for special occassions involving yours truly?" He wonders, idly, setting his laptop down and taking from his pocket a pen, which he handles like a dart, one eye closing, aiming for the side of Jill's face and launching it as hard as he can.

Nicholas looks over at Quenton with narrowed eyes and a look of sheer dislike. which seems to intense as he throws the pen at Jill's face. "You know what, screw this." He says sounding pissed. "Why the hell did I even bother to leave my room, really. This school is just full of assholes everywhere." He says tossing the game on top of the television. He walks over to Quenton and just stares at him. "And what they hell did Jill ever do to you for you to act like such a prick? REally? Sorry someone pissed in your Wheaties."

The blue girls lips purse in annoyance and she exhales sharply through her nose. "I only told her about th- OW!" The ballpoint pen, launched as hard as the super-strong Quenton can manage, sticks three quarters of its length into Jill's cheek just below her right eye. Her instinctual reaction to clap a hand over it drives it even further in, a blurry line in an upward angle behind her nose and forehead. "Stuff like that still hurts, y'know!" she yelps, sounding more aggrieved than injured.

"Why do you bother to leave your room?" wonders Quenton in reply, standing now, placing a finger on Nicholas's shoulder, or at least trying to, and jerking his finger in an attempt to nudge the other mutant to the side so that he can move over towards Jill now. If success is reached, he'd drive his hand into Jill's face, or try to, to retrieve his pen. "And quit your bitching, Neytiri."

Nicholas doesn't need much nudging as he's already making his way over to Jill and looking at the pen. "Are you okay?" He asks her with a hint of worry in his voice before glaring back at Quenton. "I'm asking myself the same question. I figured maybe I'll try to just work on adjusting here but apparently not because I have to be plauged by ever jerkass at this school!" He says shaking slightly.

Jill's flesh doesn't resist much, squelching and parting to let Quenton dig out his pen like a piece of fruit from a Jello salad. It's still got blue flecks of Jill stuck to it. She recoils when it's over, dropping her phone with a clatter, both hands pressed over her violated cheek as if to keep it from happening again. She looks like she's either going to start yelling or crying, but does neither, face flushed with a dark navy hue. "Are you done?" she asks coldly.
"You want me to stay out of your life, Jill, yeah? By now?" Quenton shakes the pen violently at Nicholas, in an effort to get the peices of Jill onto him. "Stay out of mine. I would never do some shit like that to you," he growls, while he tucks the pen away, then rounds on Nicholas. "And yeah. Keep asking yourself. Or, maybe, here's some advice? Go somewhere you're wanted."

Something about Quenton's words just hit Nick and there's a look of shock and anger with a hint of hurt on his face. "You know what, screw this place. Screw this school, screw the people here, and screw you!" He says turning to storm out of the room.

Self-preservation is no longer enough to hold her back. Surprising even herself, Jill's right arm cocks back and sharply swings an open palm at Quenton's face. *THWACK* The sound is a sharp whip crack when she gives him a hard slap. Almost immediately, self-preservation rears its ugly head again and Jill looks horrified at what she's just done.

Quenton looks a little surprised at both reactions, though there's no horror or hurt in his face. Just general puzzlement and shock. Instead of striking her back, however, even when his hand raises, it sreads out into an open palm and moves to grab the scruff of Jill's neck, in an attempt to drag her over to Nicholas. "So that's it, huh, Nick? You're going to just run away? That's fucking selfish, especially when you have this fucking blue humanoid glob who gets all starry eyed over you. Sure, there are jackasses like me and you here, but there's people like her here, too, who care about you. You wanna leave them behind? Hurt their feelings just as much as you're hurting now? Fucking cowardly."

It's the smack that stops Nick and his tracks and he turns, expecting Quenton to have done something to Jill but is surprise it's the other way around. Then at Quenton's words he gets red, but if it's with anger or embarrassment, it's hard to tell. "You really think anyone would give a damn if I left or not besides Jill? And sure, I'd miss her too but no…I'm done with this place and call me a coward if you want but screw this place."

Fingers dug into her neck like a bear trap, Jill flails and kicks, pulling down on Quenton's arm but only lifts herself nearly off the floor instead. "Stop it! Leggo! Leggo!" At least she's not hurting, merely panicking. All at once, she simply melts away to leave a watery handful of blue slime on Quenton's hand and an empty set of clothes on the floor. A liquid blue trail zig-zags away and darts under the sofa.

"And why are you done with the place? Because people like me? Give me a fucking break," Quenton mutters, moving to give Jill the tiniest shoves towards Nicholas, in an attempt to push her over to him. But there she is, a puddle, which causes him to be even more irritated as he watches her retreat. Glancing over to the other boy, he scoffs. "Your problem is you care so much about what everyone else thinks, about what these jackasses like me think of you, you don't focus on the teachers or those who like you. I bet you any teacher in this fucking school will ask you not to leave."

Nicholas turns to Quenton. "Everyone I thought was my friend turned on me back home, everyone. My best friend, my girlfriend, neighbors, teachers, everyone and those were people who knew me since I was pretty much born so really, what's to stop any of you for really caring about me if you've known me for a month. And you're probably right about the teachers but it's not because they like me, it's cause they'll feel responsible." He then looks down at Jill and his expression softens a bit. "Just don't be a dick to her." He says offering a hand to the puddle to see if he can help her up.

A blue hand reaches out from under the sofa to take Nick's, the rest of her following. Jill's eyes dart to Quenton then quickly away. "C-c'mon, you guys," she tries to interject, then to speak for Nick. "Cut it ou. He's not really leaving. I mean, you won't, right? You're just mad, sayin' stuff you don't mean." She grins hopefully, nodding as if to make the reply for him.

"I'll make you a deal, cowboy," Quenton decides, watching as Nicholas approaches the puddle, rubbing his jawline. "I won't be a dick to her if you don't try to run away all the time. I'll stop being a dick to her if you rough it." He crosses his arms, grunting to Jill, muttering, "Stay out of this, Slappy McBlue Slap."

Nicholas holds onto Jill's hand for a bit before letting go and shrugging. "I really don't know." He says honestly. "Yeah I'm mad but I'm also…I don't really like it here." He admits. "And not just because of Quenton." He says giving him a nasty look. "Maybe….okay fine, whatever." He says after Quenton calls her Slappy McBlue Slap. "But next time you're a dick to her, I'm not going to hold back."

Jill's gaze flits between the two boys, her hands self-consciously covering herself before she starts to reclaim her emptied clothes. If she ever had aspirations of boys fighting over her, it was nothing like this.

Quenton glances over to Jill a moment, ignoring Nicholas's last statement, and instead pointing out before he heads to the door, "She's naked."
Nicholas doesn't look at Jill, especially after Quenton points out that she's naked, instead he keeps his hateful gaze on Quenton. "I'm sorry Jill…..again."

Jill finishes pulling her t-shirt over her head and surreptitiously stuffs something in the back pocket of her jeans. "I'm not really sure what just happened here," she observes more to herself than anyone else, her eyes following Quenton's exit beneath a brow furrowed in dismay. "But… don't be." She's still visibly working out the conversation, a few steps behind.

Nicholas sinks down to the floor and just sits there, resting his head on the back of the couch. "I'm so tired of this place. I can't go anywhere without getting into a fight and almost everyone here gets under my skin. I'm not me Jill and I'm not lying but the idea of just getting myself, hopping on Orion and just going sounds nice."

It's Jill's turn to offer a hand to Nick, figuratively at first. She squats down and picks up her phone, turning it over and over in her hands. "Have…" she starts haltingly. "Have you really given any thought to seeing a therapist like I asked you? If you haven't, that's okay." It almost pains her to say it, but say it she does: "I think Quenton's right, you know. Mostly. Sort of."

Nicholas shrugs. "I don't know, maybe, I just don't know where to find a therapist and I know it's an excuse, I just, this all sucks." He says before frowning and looking at Jill with a very unamused expression on his face. "About what?"

Jill holds up her hands placatingly. "Okay, okay, not so much the 'Rar, look at all the veins standing out on my forehead' stuff, but hear me out. He was right about this much. If you talked to any of the teachers, they'd ask you to stay. And not just 'cause it's their job." She fidgets, trying to put her words together in a sensible way. "It's like, umm…" And she's lost it.

Nicholas shakes his head. "I don't know any of the teachers here except Ms. Frost. They'd ask me to stay because that's what the teacher is supposed to do as for anyone else well….I'd miss you, you're the only nice person at this school. I wasn't even looking for a fight or anything tonight, I just wanted to play some video games."

Sighing a heavy breath, Jill's shoulders sag. "No, they wouldn't, and no, I'm not." Fingers comb through gelatinous strands of hair in a frustrated gesture. She spreads her hands helplessly. "I don't know what to tell you. I don't want you to leave and I don't wanna see you unhappy, but I don't know how to make those things work together."

"I'm not going to leave." Nick mutters to Jill to reassure her. "But it's hard for me to be happy right now Jill, really hard. It's more on days and off days, more off than anything else. I just…" He finally pushes himself to his feet. "I'm just lost and confused. I should head to my room now."

The blue girl rises to her feet with him, a frown etched deep. The weight of wanting to say more and yet not wanting to say the wrong thing keeps her eyes downcast. After a long moment of impotent silence, Jill nods and simply responds, "Okay."

Nicholas goes to give Jill a hug, if she lets him. "Or maybe we can just hang out here for a bit and find something to watch or a video game to play. Just anything to keep my mind off of things." He says quietly.

A bit stiffly, the blue girl's arm reaches around Nick to pat him on the back. Preoccupied with her own thoughts for a moment, Jill stammers out a reply. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Whatever you wanna do, okay?" Gently steering the boy toward the couch, she glances to the doorway Quenton exited through, like she can still hear something he'd said. "Whatever you wanna do," she assures Nick once more.

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