2010-11-21: Trading Drama For Drama

Players:

Heather_icon.jpg Mason_icon.jpg Connor_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg

Summary: As Mason, Heather, and Connor prepare for a trip to Broadway, Shane shows up. It's clear that there's some history. Connor and Heather must work together to prevent utter catastrophe!

Date: Sunday, November 21, 2010. 5:30pm

Log Title: Trading Drama for Drama

Rating: PG


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.


Mason is up nice and early on Sunday afternoon. 5:30pm. He's washed and dressed, not one to appear with a hair out of place. Broadway sounded exciting last night, and so he's come down to see if he can find Connor and Heather. Or maybe at least someone who would know where they are. The pretty boy doesn't see anyone initially, so he hops over the couch, a black hoody flapping like a cape behind him. He reaches over to the coffee table and grabs the remote. E! is on, and he allows himself to become instantly absorbed in the pop television show. Who's dating who now?

The two aforementioned folks enter together, dressed to cover for the cold weather outside. Connor's into a hooded top and thick winter jeans, with what looks like riding boots of some variety and a leather jacket that keeps the cold off and 'tough up's the image a bit. Seeming in mid-conversation, Mason can hear Connor say, "…So I've checked most of the major shows on Broadway playing, and we've got most of the CDs here on campus… so I thought I'd let you listen and see which one has the nicest sound for you… that way, when we're there you're not so uncomfortable." With the way he talks, you would think the pair are related or something more.

With Chloe's help, Heather's appearance still remains intact from before, though perhaps slightly altered. She's wearing makeup and her hair is still straight and untangled for the time being, and Heather herself has actually made some efforts towards keeping it that way. She nods her head quickly at Connor as she walks closely next to him and then plays back, her usual mechanical voice from her recorder, "Can I use your phone as a translator? It has superior sound to my recorder, and then I can just wear noise canceling headphones. Just for tonight, of course." Even though it's weird to wear headphones to a Broadway, Heather doesn't much concern herself with things that are 'weird'.

The blond head on the other side of the couch turns around at the sound of Connor's voice, "Sweet, I didn't miss you two." He stands up and lets his back face the TV. "So what are we going to go see?" he asks. "I'm up for any of them, I don't care." He glances around for the remote to the television. He just had it, where'd he put it? He bends over, checking under the coffee table, then under the couch. He looks over the side of the couch. "Did you see where I stuck the remote?" he asks, starting to check between the cushions.

The other young man coughs politely, and points onto where it's sitting between Mason's thigh and the arm of the couch before he says, "Right there." And then Connor turns and looks back at Heather, "Sure… I don't mind. But like I said… let's give them a listen first." Before he then says to Mason, "There's about a dozen shows we could get tickets for, so I looked them all up, and we've got all the soundtracks in the media library. We're looking for one that will be the least offensive to Heather's senses." And with that he takes off his jacket and drapes it on one of the chair arms, "E? Seriously… celebrity gossip… sometimes I think they just do it to keep us all entertained. Like that whole fifteen minute Angelina Jolie marriage to Billy Bob Thornton. Seriously… knives… and shit happens?"

Heather seems a little bit confused by this discussion about celebrities. It's not exactly her strong suit. But she tries her best to keep up with that, "Wasn't there that one celebrity who is a racist?" Yeah, that's all she's got. There could not be anything less relevant to her life than famous people doing famous things. "Thank you for doing this for me, Connor. Hopefully, we find something that is actually alright to listen to."

Heavy boots clomp outside the door to the rec room, and there's a brief pause, before one of the doors glides inward. On the other side, a small, bespectacled girl wearing a pleather mock-up of Kadaj's outfit from Advent Children, topped with eye-searingly purple hair and large noise-canceling headphones halts dead in her tracks, one hand tightening around the coil of audio-extension cord she'd brought with her. Connor and Heather, either forgotten or ignored as she stares at Mason, eyes narrowing in deep suspicion.

Mason looks under his arm to spot the remote, "Oh," he answers with his head in his arm. "Thanks." he picks the remote up and clicks the TV back off. "No, it's for real," he tells Connor. "I used to date Micaela Shaw." The rather famous teenage superstar with her own TV show, geared towards girls ages 6-13. "We did all kinds of crazy stuff, it was great." At Heather's attempt to join in, he arches one brow. "Yeah, plenty of them are, but most of them try to keep it quiet…" his voice trails off, and he two seems to be looking past the veteran students that he was conversing with.
"Shane! You're here! This is great! I'm so glad you're here, it's good to see a familiar face." He recognizes the rather unfriendly appearance of the girl he would call his friend, but tries to forget that it's there. "Have you met Heather and Connor?" he asks. He purposefully strides his way between the two and the girl who has just entered, and with his right hand he makes single stroke of the button line on his purple button-down dress shirt. He glances back at Shane. "You have one of your conventions going on?" he asks.

Connor looks back at Shane, seeing the narrowed look, then looks back at Mason, and as the mental tumblers can be seen pouring out the bingo balls, he puts a hand on Heather's shoulder and just moves her and himself back and out of the way. But then he does say with a slight smile, "If you can hear us under the headphones, I'm Connor and she's Heather… not the other 'way around." Rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as he watches the incoming drama.

Heather lets herself be moved out of the way. She trust Connor's social sense far more than her own for what is appropriate to do and when. She glances between Mason and Shane, eyes resting on the girl. She gestures towards the headphones and then plays on her tape recorder, "Like those ones."

Slowly, the purple-haired girl reaches up, pulling off her headphones. Before she can pause her music player, there's a rather startlingly loud blast of 'o/~ And the holls of Los Angeles are burning~! Palm tr—' and the player is paused. Whether she heard anything anyone had to say, in light of the music's volume, is unlikely, and it's another moment before she tears her eyes away from the rising pop star, to fix on Connor. "What. Is *he* doing here?"

Something inside of Mason withers the moment that Shania opens her mouth. The smile lingers for a moment in practice, but it's already gone behind the baby blue eyes. There's a single heave of a forced laugh in but a breath, and Mason's hand returns to his shirt to play with his top button. He looks away from Shane to Connor, as if there was something he could do to rescue him. "I…" he hesitates, and swallows. He hasn't planned well for this conversation, it appears.

Connor looks back and forth for a moment longer, and then his hands go into his hooded top pocket for a moment, clenching his fists before he takes a breath, and interposes himself between the pair, "All right… looks like we got some history here… but whatever it is… I suggest you both leave it at the door. You're probably both here because you're mutants… like everyone else at this school. I'm a mutant, Heather here is a mutant… so it's kinda the theme." Sighing once he relaxes a bit, "Hi… I'm Connor… nice Kadaj outfit by the way. This is Heather, like I said… she's going to have to talk to you through a recorder, so don't get weirded out. Before your first month is over, that kinda thing will seem normal by comparison. For both of you."

Heather waves her hand quickly at the two other mutants and plays from her tape recorder, "I would prefer not to have to get involved if it escalates. I'm going to a show tonight, and my hair does not usually look so normal." She crosses her arms, though, and looks over Shane, playing a second message, "Anyways, enough people hate mutants that we should probably avoid hating each other where we can, especially in the school."

Shiny pleather creaks, as the smaller girl folds her arms, eyes on Connor, then Heather, as they speak their respective pieces, listening in silence. The corner of her mouth quirks upwards, briefly, before her pitiless gaze turns back to Mason. "…New friends?"

"Yeah," Mason answers, slightly bolstered by Connor and Heather's input. "We were gonna go to see a Broadway show!" A little of the excitement comes back as he tries to sidestep the elephant in the room. "You should come with us, it'll be great. They seem to be pretty nice. This place is way better than our old school. Heather has trouble with music, so Connor was going to try to help her find a show that would be something she could work with." And on that note, he pulls his own iPod from his pocket. "Actually, I might have some of it on here," he says. "What's playing again?" Avoid and redirect time.

Connor rubs a hand over one eye, and then back along his hair, before taking a calming breath, and then turns and whispers into Heather's ear, enough that only someone who was being more intent might make it out. To Heather, he says, 'You take him, I'll take her.' And he then moves away and walks over to Shane, motioning for her to follow him to the far end of the rec room and the pool table, "C'mon… think we should talk a sec, all right? Please?"

Heather nods her head once at Connor's suggestion, though she takes a moment to translate the slow speech into something she can understand. She touches her hair lightly, patting it down, and then approaches Mason, playing on her recorder, gesturing towards the couch, "A moment, please?" She operates in sync with her squadmate, even if this isn't exactly a Danger Room exercise. It seems much too volatile for one of those.

Shane's eyes narrow a touch further at Mason's invitation; oh yes, they do indeed have a history together, it would seem. But just as she opens her mouth to tell him what he can do with his musical, Connor's request cuts in. Closing her mouth with a snap, she waits just long enough to make it seem like her following Connor to the pool table is her own idea and not his, then moves to follow, one quirked eyebrow asking the question her sealed lips won't; 'Yes?'

Mason isn't sure how to respond as Heather and Connor try to separate him and Shania. The pop star doesn't dare to break off until after Shane goes to follow Connor, though not because he avoids going with Heather. "Sure," he says, crossing his arms over his torso to lightly hug himself as he walks. He tosses a glance over his shoulder back at Shane as he draws near to Heather, and then looks to face the speedster. "What's up?" he asks. As if he didn't know.

Connor doesn't touch Shane, giving her her space, but his hands go back in his pockets, before he says to her softly, some concern in his tone, "I don't know what happened with either of you in the past… but he isn't exactly the…" And then stopping before he makes any kind of disparaging comment, "Obvious whatever happened wasn't good… but two things you need to know. This is a small school, and gossip goes about as fast as hell… you really don't want anything like this hanging over you. Or making him suffer for your dislikes. Because people are going to ask… and people are gonna take sides. And we're all supposed to be on the same side, right?"

"It seems like you two have some history," plays Heather on her tape recorder, "She doesn't seem to like you very much." Way to point out the obvious, but Heather is emotionally and socially stunted in her growth as a person. "What happened between you two?" She crosses her arms and tilts her head slightly. It's just an information gathering game. She figures Mason isn't the one with a huge problem with Shane, anyways.

"If you say so," Shane murmurs, eyes darting across the room to Mason's turned back. "As long as he leaves me alone, he's got nothing to worry about. *You* might want to be careful, though. Don't ever get into trouble around him."

The pop star closes his lips, and licks the front of his teeth before answering. "Well," he says. "We're friends…" he glances back over his shoulder again for a moment, and then looks toward Heather. "At least, I thought we were. We went to the same private school. When she manifested, it was pretty ugly politically. I stood by her through the whole thing," he says. "But I never told her that I was a mutant, too. My mom forbid me from telling her or anybody else." His voice is kept low to keep it from being overheard, if there's any other parts of the story, he's keeping them to himself for the moment.

Connor moves to lean back against the pool table, and then for a moment, "Let's get some context… I'm the kid that everyone at school called crazy because until I was fourteen… I was seeing a therapist three times a week." Then his head tilts in an almost cattish fashion, his blue-green eyes shimmering slightly in a manner that couldn't be done by any lighting effect, "So why not clarify for me why I shouldn't get into trouble around him?"

Heather tilts her head slightly at Mason's explanation (or at least she tilts her head once she finishes going through the playback) and plays in return, "So you do not know why she is angry with you, or is it because you did not admit to being a mutant? Isolation can be difficult." Which is something she knows pretty well first-hand.

"…You'll regret it," is Shane's curt answer, an eyebrow rising. "Can I go now, or d'you need me to spill my life story to a stranger with glowing eyes?"

With a completely straight face, Mason answers, "I think it's because I didn't tell her. I should've told her. I wanted the best for her, I really did, I was just scared, you know?" He ventures another glance back at the seething anime fan. "When Xavier's scouted me, I told them they should talk to her, too. I'm glad she's here, our other school was full of a bunch of stupid bigots." Mason adjusts his weight a little between one foot and the other. "I guess I should've planned for this a little better."

There's a sad shake to the head of the young man facing the goth girl, and he pushes off the table, and turns to start walking off, "Strangers are just friends you haven't gotten to know yet. Too bad you're letting his presence get in the way of that… but that's your call. We're pretty nice people if you give it a chance. But at the same time… you gotta take it at your own pace." And with that he walks back over to where Heather and Mason are, Connor sighing once as he puts a hand on Heather's shoulder to announce his presence.

Heather answers Mason and says, "It's fine to be scared, but I can understand why she'd be angry with you if you let her feel alone like that. I don't mean to make you feel bad. Just an observation." At Connor's hand touching her shoulder, she looks up towards him, greeting her returned friend with a quick wave. Her tape recorder is handed to Connor, which is her own way of whispering, the message that is ready to play is simply: "How was that?"

Shane watches Connor cross the room, narrowing her eyes at his back as though attempting to burn a hole through his skin. Shaking her head briefly, she pulls her earphones up back over her ears, lifts a foot to fiddle with one of the chains on her clompy boots, and with a tap on her iPod, sweeps out of the room, the coil of cable swaying in time with her steps.

Mason nods, "I know," he says. He starts to move toward Shane as Connor returns to them. "Shane," he starts to call out with an outstretched hand, but then stops, not wanting to pressure her to return.
"Ever make a really stupid mistake?" he asks aloud to the two remaining. "I think she'll be okay. I'll try to talk to her later, maybe after she's calmed down some." He takes in a sharp breath and holds it for a moment, then looks back down at the iPod in his hand. "Sorry, didn't mean to kill the mood, there."

Connor exhales hard, and looks back and forth, "If you'd like some advice here, buddy… something to consider. Whatever you did really pissed her off, it's something emotional, and something about her getting in trouble, and involving you." Then he just shakes his head and can't help but chuckle, "This is a pretty interesting twist… usually new students end UP in drama, and don't start it all on their own. But I think if you're gonna talk to her, you might want to start with actually taking her feelings into account. Otherwise, anything you say is going to just land in the minefield she's got between herself and anyone else."

Heather nods her head quickly in agreement, "If you are worried about your friendship with her, then you should acknowledge that she feels a certain way and not just ignore it. That's just annoying." She fiddles lightly with her tape recorder and shrugs before she says to Mason, "But lots of people are scared about outing themselves as mutants. For me, it's so obvious that there never is a choice involved. Anyways, it's normal, so don't beat yourself up or anything. That will only hinder you."

"Yeah, I know," Mason answers soberly, eyes glancing between the two other mutants. "It's…I guess I just gotta man up and take what I deserve from her first. Which is easier said than done with a girl like her, trust me." The look in his eyes now says that there is quite a weight with him as well, but he doesn't seem intent on remaining there.
Mason looks back at his iPod, and his thumb gently starts paging through the album lists. He seems to have quite a large collection. He finds Cats, and opens the folder. "So, where were we?" he asks, "What shows did we have to pick from?"

Connor nods once in agreement to the statement and then replies, "Cats, Les Miserables, Lion King, Newsies, My Fair Lady, and I think I saw a showing off-Broadway of Rent." Settling his hands in his pockets once more he moves to lean against the wall, his eyes shifting and shimmering somewhat, the emotions behind his calm more obvious for those that know him, and his own rather obvious sign of mutation… no one has eyes that are that color, nor do they behave in the same fashion.

Heather just nods her head quickly at Mason, and then glances at the list on his iPod. She doesn't say anything out loud, instead tossing her tape recorder to Connor once again in order to send him another message. While she's miserable at picking up emotional cues, there are some people that she makes an exception for. "Are you doing alright?" is asked from the tape recorder whenever the message gets played.

Mason glances up as Heather speaks. "Wow," he says, spotting Connor's eyes shimmering. "Does that happen a lot?" He doesn't mean to stare, and catches himself, glancing away. He hits play on the Cats album, and uncoils the earbuds, holding them out to Heather.

Connor taps the side of his head, as he listens to the recorder and then replies with just a nod to Heather, passing the recorder back as he says to Mason, "These? Yeah… it's just the sign for me. The energy that runs in my body is blue-green in color, and for some reason it shows through my eyes. The more I use, the more they glow. I'll pretty much light up a space if I pour it on, for something like making a portal. I can cover it with sunglasses, but seriously… around here I wouldn't care too much."

Heather takes her tape recorder back, looking down at it and then nodding to Connor in return. "I have no distinctive things about me like that when I use my powers, though I suppose it might look strange once I learn to travel time?" She thinks the idea is so intriguing that she's been hooked on it since her future self arrived for an unpleasant visit, so she liked to speculate.

"Wait," Mason cocks his head to one side. "You were doing something with your power?" He looks around, checking to see if anything has been moved around. "Here, Heather, this one is Cats, I have Les Miserables. I don't have Newsies, but that's a really cool sound." Of course, that's the perspective of someone who hears music normally. It appears that there is more than just pop music to him after all.
Connor shakes his head once more, "No… emotions that run high make my eyes do that sometimes… she's pretty intense. Kinda cute too. And I have to say that outfit was pretty spot on. I'd ask her if she made it or bought it, but you usually don't see that kinda good quality from something someone wears daily. Supposedly, there's a guy in New York who's designing new superhero uniforms… bet she'd love to get into that kind of place." When the shows are mentioned, "They've got the other stuff in the media library in the Library. All of it's set to check out for Heather."
Heather listens to the music that's being played, tilting her head back and forth as she listens to it. She does not seem to particularly into the particular song she's listening to, and then she glances up to Connor, playing on her tape recorder, "Ohh? You think she's cute?" She looks back towards the door, contemplating for a few moments and then notes, "I'm never sure what criteria to use to judge someone's attractiveness."

"Oh, she makes them, she has a ton," Mason interjects to Connor. "There must be a convention or something, she usually wears them when there's a thing coming up. They're called cosplays," he explains. Apparently he thinks that it's a fringe word enough that it'd need explaining. "I don't know much about them. I think she'd fall over dead if you asked her out," he adds. "She's never been asked out in her life, you should go for it." After the words are out, he instantly wants to take them back. "Um, don't tell her I said that." He smiles as Heather gives him an opening.
"It's really easy," he says. "First you got the face." He frames Heather's face with his fingers. "You look in the person's eyes, and you see what kind of person is looking back." He smiles warmly at her, "And then you check out the smile, do they look like they are enjoying looking back at you?" he asks. "For the rest, it's all about tastes. Do you like muscles?" he flexes, "Or maybe you like a certain light figure, or maybe you like'm big, or short, or whatever. All in the eye of the beholder, but you know, some people just look good no matter what." There's a certain unspoken suggestion toward Heather as he finishes.

Connor watches the flirting and there's this obvious sense of amusement that travels through a ripple in his gaze before he just smiles and turns to leave, moving to where he left his jacket and picks it up, pulling it back around his person, "So anyways… the shops are closed if we wanted to get you something nice Heather… but there's still a chance we could make a late show.. and if not a musical, there's always the movies."

After listening to her tape, Heather moves her fingers lightly through her hair, blinking a few times. She answers Mason after a couple of moments with, "I guess I've never thought about it very much. I have always rated psychological traits. Can they keep up with me, can they challenge me, can they keep from calling me crazy? Physical traits, I don't know…" Heather examines Mason up and down. She fidgets slightly, and then stands, playing, "Oh, the stores are closed? I can just wear some of Chloe's clothes, maybe. Like I said yesterday, my legs are smooth enough to actually wear a dress."

Mason grins, "Well, I can't imagine anyone being so foolish to think you crazy," he says. "You seem to be a very intelligent girl to me, and there's nothing crazy about that." He breaks eye contact, and checks the clock on the wall. "Yeah, we've been standing around for a while, now," he admits. "Maybe Connor and I could meet you in the quad after you get changed. Then we can go catch — oh snap, that's right, we can teleport!" The detail had apparently escaped his memory for a moment.

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