2011-03-11: Saturday Morning Cartoons


Theo_icon.jpg Heather_icon.jpg

Summary: Heather and Theo discuss relationships while watching Saturday morning cartoons.

Date: Saturday, March 5, 2011. 6:13am

Log Title: Saturday Morning Cartoons

Rating: G

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.

Saturday morning. Most of the school is still asleep. It's true that curfew is over for the night, but not by much. Theo, however, is up nice and early. He's in the rec room so tha the doesn't bother Trent. The TV is on. All of the game systems. Picture in picture, Blu-Ray, radio. Three radios in fact, all on different stations. His computer is running, and Proto is wandering around the room, examining the table games. What is Theo doing? Theo's sitting in a couch, reading a book, ignoring pretty much all of it. His shoes are kicked off, and he's studying for Ancient Civilizations, his legs pulled up in a criss cross.

Because she has little regard for time and the constraints that it imposes, Heather dashes into the Recreation Room wearing what seems to be vastly repaired and patched versions of the Hello Kitty pyjamas that she wore in the Halloween world. She pauses when she sees all of the machines running, and then plays from her tape recorder, cranking the volume on it, "Looks like you're expending energy."

Theo arches his brow, eyes lingering on the text for an extra moment as he pulls his head up toward Heather. His eyes shift toward her, and the volumes on the radios and TV are turned down. "Sorry," he apologizes. "I guess it was a bit loud. I'm working on my focus." Theo is dressed, blue jeans and a T-shirt, about as dressed as he plans to get for Saturday. "I spend way less energy this way than when I use the Danger Room. Think about how much energy that thing sucks."

"I wish I spent more time in the Danger Room, myself. I could do that all day, every day. They are interesting scenarios to consider, always different," plays Heather, sitting down on the couch not far away from Theo. "Can you turn on the subtitles? I like to read them during conversations."

Theo doesn't look back at the TV, currently playing Saturday Morning cartoons, but the subtitles come on. "Sure," he says, not concerned that it would mean that Heather is ignoring him. "Is that the same set of PJs that you wore in the demon world?" he asks, giving an odd look at the patched up pajamas the girl wears.

"Oh, yes. Well, about sixty percent of the fabric is the same," plays Heather, glancing towards the television every couple of moments to check what's happening on them. She fiddles with the tape recorder slightly and notes, "They were my favorite pyjamas. But they were too bloodstained, worn and torn by the end to continue their service as is."

"Well, I know what to get you for your birthday," Theo comments with a wry smile. "I mean, I'm not all about new clothes, but I think you need a new favorite pair of PJs." He glances down at the book again, and reads a couple more lines. "You can change it to whatever," he informs Heather, digging the remote out from between the couch cushions and sliding it across the cushion between them to the speedster. "I'm not really watching it."

"I like the cartoons fine. The pictures kind of remind me of something," plays Heather, shrugging as she glances over again. "And I'm never quite sure I know when my birthday is. I have it written down somewhere in case I need to record my exact age in regular speed, which helps calculate my personal age. As for new pyjamas, that would be nice. I haven't found anything quite like the originals at the thrift store yet, though."

Theo smirks lightly. "You might have to try out a real clothing store. You'd probably find Hello Kitty at Hot Topic or something," he comments. "How can you be Chloe's roommate and she hasn't dragged you to the clothing store for this purpose yet?" he asks, closing the text book. Too hard for focusing on the conversation and reading at the same time this early in the morning.

"Chloe took me to get a makeover once. Fortunately, I fell asleep," says Heather, frowning slightly at that. "I can buy more things in the thrift store, though, and my allowance is distributed at the same rate as the others here. But my clothed wear out much, much, much faster. In fact, my time is stretched longer, so it's less money per day from my perspective. Which I suppose would seem unfair, but I'm not concerned. I prefer function, though." While the tape recorder plays, Heather remains focused on the television.

"You have to consider not just how many pieces of clothing you can purchase," Theo comments. "But what quality of clothing. If you get stuff from thrift stores, it's already old clothing. If you get clothes that are durable and rugged and new, they'll put up with your speed longer. Like Carhartt. That stuff will survive just about anything. Maybe you can talk to Shane, she knows all kinds of stuff about clothes. I'd talk to you for her, but I think she's pissed off at me right now."

"I might talk to her if my path crosses with hers. I expect it to, eventually, since we occupy some of the same spaces, but I never know what to say to her. I remain silent…" plays Heather, fidgeting with her machine slightly again, and adding, "But maybe I will do this experiment. Lately, I have been preferring my squad uniform, as it does not wear or tear."

"I think that's the best strategy," the technopath agrees. "She started to open up to me for some bizarre reason," he comments. "Don't ask me why, I didn't ask for it, and…well, let's face it, I'm not exactly the counselor type." He tosses the book onto the coffee table, letting it land with a heavy thud. "I ended up saying something or other that really pissed her off the other day. I dunno. She's a hard person to understand. All her time spent in fake worlds and video games, guess she just hates real life. So my advice? Act like me, and don't ask her any questions about anything personal."

"I tend not to solicit that kind of thing, since I do not wish it solicited in return," says Heather, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I am not the counselor type, either. I am more the type people think in need of counselling." She shakes her head and refocuses on her screen, "She is angry. It is something that we must interpret and understand, but if it is relevant, it will make itself relevant."

Theo shrugs, glancing at the TV. "Same for me," the boy taking the same perspective in the matter. "They'd probably say I need counseling too. Maybe I do, but I don't want some shrink in my head. So I can relate." He watches the cartoon as it moves about. "I got enough trouble figuring out Chloe without trying to figure out Shane," he comments. After the statement is out, he becomes uncertain whether it is one he should have made around Heather, and tries to measure her response carefully. Not an easy task when the person whose response you're measuring moves in an altered pace of time.

"Well, I am obligated to attend counselling. It's my duty in exchange for the school taking me from the White Prison. But I do not care for it. I like Dr. Parker-Mayfair okay, but I am not crazy like people think I am," says Heather, furrowing her brows at that. "As for Chloe… boys seem to have a hard time understanding her, I think. As different as we are, I enjoy her company, though."

"I don't think you're crazy," he says. "I just think you're a little weird. But that's okay, I'm a little weird, too." Theo chews his lower lip for a moment, as if weighing the risk of the next thing to come out of his mouth. "What — " he stops. "Can I ask you something, and you…not… tell Chloe that I asked you?"

"I might journal it, but since my journals are open for her to read, she makes absolutely no effort to," says Heather, shrugging, "Unless it's sooo important that I must seal it away in the depths of my own mind."

The boy genius considers the statement for a moment. After several seconds, he asks, seeming satisfied with the response. "What do you think it would take for her to see a guy as…more than a friend?" he asks, his tone hesitant through the entire statement. It doesn't take much skill for someone to note his nervousness in asking, despite Heather's previous statement.

"She just isn't that into you," plays Heather, blinking a few times at that, very rapidly, "I don't think she's really that into any guys." Her eyes flick back to the television screen to catch the subtitles and she continues playing, "What did it take from her to elevate herself to make you want her to be more than a friend?"

Theo wasn't really looking for that answer. "What?" he asks. "I know she's not that into me, I'm trying to figure out what it would take to change that." he tries to avoid writhing in his seat, but failes, adjusting his legs so that he's sitting on them, and he presses back into the couch a little. "I dunno, I mean, she's really gorgeous," he starts. "But that's just a really nice bonus. She's so carefree. It's like she has nothing to hide, but is somehow still a mystery. This whole world sucks, but when I'm around her, it…doesn't. I feel like I'm home again. It's that way around her, and I know she doesn't even have to try to make it happen. I just wish I could find a way to make it happen for her back."

"Do you think I hold a magic formula that will allow you that? You don't need her to be in love with you to feel that way around her, though. She is an important person to you, and you might be an important person to her, I don't know, but I do not think in that way," says Heather, tilting her head back and forth a couple of times. "I have kind of similar feelings towards her, but they are non-romantic."

Theo huffs. "You're not very helpful," he states in a repressed growl. "I don't think you hold a magic formula, but you know her better than anyone else at this school. You could at least try to point me in the right direction, you know?" He runs his hand through his shaggy hair, gripping it into a fist with frustration.

"You are seeking a path that she is not. Have you ever asked her directly what you can do to make that happen, or if you can? She might have a better magic formula than I do," plays Heather, frowning slightly. "I do not mean to frustrate you, Theo. There's nothing for to gain for it. But it is as I said. I don't think she is interested in any guys like that."

"Yeah, you did. But that just means no guys have managed to find out what it takes. I can't just go ask her. I might ruin our friendship." He gets up from the couch, and reaches out with his power to shut off the electronics, save for the TV. Theo paces toward his laptop, and closes it. "I guess I'll just have to keep wandering aimlessly until I figure something out."

"Okay, I suppose you can go pace about or whatever you plan on doing," plays Heather, "But maybe you will ruin your friendship with her. That's your gamble, Theo. But she's not stupid." Heather shakes her head quickly and says, "Just ask her the question. Or else you will /never/ know the answer." A firm nod is given after that. "Your gamble."

Theo scoops up the laptop, and then returns to the coffee table to get his text book. Both of them are placed in his backpack at the foot of the couch before he zips it up in one motion "I hate gambling." He lets out a sigh. "Why did I have to fall for such a hard girl to impress?"

"If you never play, you never win. It's not that she is hard to impress," plays Heather, shaking her head quickly as she rises to her feet. "It's that you are having a hard time impressing her. But you have asked for and received my advice. There is nothing else to say. I need to change and run track. Good luck." She hangs her tape recorder around her neck with that bit and then zips off out of the room.

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