2010-02-11 Tattoos


Chezlie_icon.jpg Jono_icon.jpg

Summary: Chezlie should be at dinner, but she's practicing instead.

Date: 2-11-2010

Log Title Tattoos

Rating: PG

Xavier Gym

For how empty the gymnasium is at this time of day, there sure is a ton of racket bouncing around the walls and reflecting off the ceiling. Most of the student body is probably eating, as it is that time so often referred to as dinner, but not Chezlie. She's put together a little make shift practice arena for using her powers on - a couple poles that really go with the volleyball and badminton nets have been wrapped with several layers of padding. Telepathic swords are drawn, but set to a level so not to slash through any of the padding, and with quick bursts of swings, sidesteps and lunges, the little teen practices her attacks, most of the sound echoing around the room coming from the friction caused by her rubber soles sliding across the wooden floor. Probably leaving some scuff marks too.

«Why aren't you eating?» Asks a British voice during a lull in your attacks. Could ask the same of Jonothon, but then many know he can't eat. Why should he be at dinner? He's been watching you for a little while, a thin man wearing all black, taking up the doorway. Stop attacking and the man will enter the gym proper. His attire is a turtle neck and slacks, with a silver and gold pin at his collar bone. It's the only bright thing on him, and even his lower face is covered in dark material. «You okay?» Asking because people often come down here to vent.

Chezlie stops seconds after the arrival of a foreign voice inside her head. Well, maybe more alien than foreign considering this isn't the first time she's heard Jonothon communicate. She immediately stops her practice attacks, turning herself around until she can spot the slim, black figure. "Hi, Mr. Starsmore." She says after several seconds of letting her breath catch up to her. As one would expect, she's dressed appropriately for working out; black tank top, running shorts and her usual knee high moccasins. From the cut of the tank top, half of her large back tattoo can be seen, an intricate overlapping of dark and light blues with white high lights, taking the shape of what can easily been seen as a waterfall. "Oh, I'm not hungry yet, and thought it would be the perfect time to work up an appetite. What about you? Why aren't you eating?" Obviously, she's one of the few that doesn't know that little fact about him.

Listening, he moves into the room, and slides hands into pockets. Jonothon gives you a wide berth on account of those words, but clearly he's curious. There's a shrug for why he isn't. «Can't eat.» That makes things kind of easy, doesn't it? One of those hands withdraw from pocket and he motions to his black clad chin, «Don't have a mouth, much less throat.» Sure looks like he does though, doesn't it? That mask shows clearly a jaw and chin, as well as the suggestion of lips beneath fabric. That same hand motions to the blades, «Your power?» Asked with curiosity.

"Oh." Chezlie responds, her cheeks turning a little flush from the embarrassment of not knowing. There really isn't a reason she should have known without asking, but still, she feels bad for even bringing it up. "Sorry… it's, well, hard to tell." She forces a smile out with a rather lazy shrug. As the question of her powers is tossed out, her focus immediately falls upon the two wispy and translucent swords still held in her hands. "These?" she questions, more rhetorical than actual wonderment. "Oh, yeah, they're part of my power." She turns around, loosely pointing at the large piece of art on her back. "I can pull objects drawn on my flesh into these weird, transparent copies."

Another, easy, shrug for that you are sorry. «Nothing you need be sorry about.» Jonothon assures. An old pain that he doesn't demonstrate now. «Not like they hand you a score card when you join up.» Eyes narrow, laughter wrinkles appearing. It's the only way the man can smile now. He's quiet as you explain the sword and tilts his head. Combed his hair today, he did. For once it's a glossy auburn instead of looking like he'd slept on it wet for a week. «Like the water?» Noticed your tattoos, yes Jono most certainly did. «Those tattoos, or they part of your power too?»

"I feel sorry none-the-less." These words are accompanied by a more genuine smile. Nothing forced here. "But it would be nice if they did hand a score card out. As an employee of the Institute, that might be something you could work on, right?" There's even laughter, but unlike the mouth-less person present, it's very much vocalized as much as physically expressed. "Sort of… the water works a little different, which I'm beginning to suspect is because how I view it." She moves her arms up, letting the swords fall into place on her back where there are also two small katanas, interwoven behind the water, melding into her skin until they're no more. "They're just tattoos." Which brings up the very important question of how the hell did a sixteen year old get her back completely tattoo? "Want to see all of it?"

Jonothon opts not to linger on the apology and soon has you distracted in discussing your power. He doesn't feel you need to be apologetic, for all he doesn't say that again. «No thanks.» See all of it? «Gel, that's not really a good idea with just the two of us here.» Sure you don't mean it that way, but Jono doesn't at all want people thinking naughty things of you two talking. «How'd you manage all those tattoos at your age? Don't they restrict that here?» Here being the US. Having been raised in another country, some things still elude him about American culture. «And what's with the water being different?» A pause and there's that smile of the eyes. «Sorry, curious. You don't have to tell»

For many of the students here, the telling of their powers can be a somewhat awkward and traumatic affair. Not for Chezlie, she's always more than grateful to explain her situation. "Well, it wasn't really my doing, the tattoos. I think I told you about the two guys I briefly lived with, right? Well, I think one was a mutant who knew what other's powers were. Not sure how, but I think he could just sense it." That would about sum it up. "He was the one who came up with the theory that my skin would react stronger to something it was more familiar with, so they decided to add something permanent." Skipping over many of the smaller details helps in keeping her stories length down, though not by much.

"They ended up hiring a guy, who for the right price I suppose, flew out with his gear and did what they wanted. So he tattooed the ideas they come up with onto me." Definitely not the ideal way most people want to end up tattooed, but at least the artist was good, right? "Well, it's weird with the water. If I focus enough onto the idea of how water moves, it sort of brings a fluidity to my movement that usually isn't there. Guess it's more conceptual than physical." There's a shrug tossed in at the end there, signaling her lack of understanding on it exactly works.

You are one of the luck ones then, but Jonothon merely nods approval as you begin. He asks, so he listens well. There's a frown though about those two guys. Finds it hard to picture someone being so willing, for tattoos are painful, but hey.. not his life. Who's he to judge. «So the water increases your ability, and doesn't do like a water attack?» That's damn cool, and his tone says it in spite of not having quite used those words. Then again you putting the swords away was really cool. Why'd he have to get the sucky powers? Sigh. «At least the artist was good. I'd hate to think of what you could have ended up with.»

"Me too!" The excitement in her tone, as well as the face splitting grin, are both indications of how fully she really has embraced her powers. "Luckily, I think they were both mentally unstable, and decided the quality of the work would reflect on the strength of my powers. Not sure if that's true or not, but happy they thought so. Not like they really cared if I wanted this on my back or not." So it comes out, she was an unwilling test subject. Surprising on how well the whole event is viewed. She stops for a couple seconds, her head inclined to the side as she ponders on the water aspect of her tattoo. "Nope, haven't been able to do any sort of water attacked. Maybe if that was originally how I was made to think of it, it'd work that way." Sounds a little like her skin soaks in her subconscious thoughts.

Jonothon is a embodiment of how your subconscious controls your powers. He stands before you know solely because he refused to die and has clung to life. As broken as he is, it's because he believes himself to be broken, and no other reason. «Can't remember the last time anyone claimed someone being mentally unstable was a good thing.» Sounds dubious at best over that one. «Glad they didn't hurt you, gel.» Also glad you seem to have adapted this well. About your water, well, the man shrugs. «This place is all about learning how to think differently. Not that it doesn't sound bloody useful already, but have you tried doing anything different?»

"Probably the first times I've ever uttered those words in the same sentence." Mentally unstable and relating to good that is. "Probably will be the last too." Chezlie adds, that same grin from before still in affect. "You know, I guess I really haven't. Given it a thought and maybe about ten seconds of actually attempting, but nothing other than that." It is always easier to fall into place on one idea instead of stretching outside theboundaries . "Guess that's always something to keep in mind for my next danger room session." Trying new takes on ones power is always better done in a safe, somewhat controlled environment.

He's snort with laughter if he could, for he's not sure he'd ever say that. Who knows though. Life is strange when you are a X-man. Jonothon motions with that one hand, in a gentle, vague manner. «All that matters is you try.» There are no hard goals here at Xaviers, just a general want to see improvement in the kids. «You seem to be getting along well here. Glad to see it.» A little pause and he looks sidelong a moment. «I'll leave you to your practicing. Don't forget to eat?»

Chezlie nods as her gaze briefly mills over the little practice 'dummies' she has set up to take the brunt of her assaults. "Eat? That sounds like a great idea. Think I'll take you're suggestion and head down to the cafeteria right now." She smiles before dashing towards the door. "Oh." She says, stopping just long enough to get a couple more words out. "I'll clean that up after dinner."

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