Players:
Summary: Shane isn't to happy with Quenton's attitude.
Date: September 20, 2011
Log Title: Wreck-Reaction Room
Rating: PG-13
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.
Mid-evening, and with the necessary homework out of the way, Shane does what she normally does, during the rare moment the Rec Room is unoccupied; take control of the giant TV, turn up the volume on her headphones, and curl up with some insanely over-stylized JRPG or other. Peeking out through toxic yellow-green bangs, the slight young mutant shifts a bit on the couch, tugging at a part of her mock-up of American McGee's Alice that's managed to bunch up under her knees. If all is not right with the world, at the moment, it's as close as it possibly gets.
Coming into the rec room dressed in a pair of artfully ripped jeans with a button down blue and black checkered shirt with a black tie and a black sort of fedora is Daisuke. A few small chains jingle as he walks as the hang from the belt loops of his pants. "Hey Shane." He says to his friend as he walks over and sits down on the couch next to her. "What game are you playing?" He says as he watches it, trying to see if he recognizes it.
And then Quenton comes in, hands in his pockets, getting ready to see what's on television. Of course, he can't handle the remote himself, so he has to rely on watching what others are watching, and when he sees the television is occupied by some impeccably big monster (or very girly looking male boss character) fighting some girl (or is that a guy) in wierd clothing, he groans. He used to like JRPGs, anime, and other things.
And then Quenton comes in, hands in his pockets, getting ready to see what's on television. Of course, he can't handle the remote himself, so he has to rely on watching what others are watching, and when he sees the television is occupied by some impeccably big monster (or very girly looking male boss character) fighting some girl (or is that a guy) in wierd clothing, he groans. He used to like JRPGs, anime, and other things. "What is this crap?" he wonders, moving to an arm chair and searching for the television remote behind his sunglasses. Even if he could find it, he doesn't know what he'd do, so he just drops onto the chair as limply as possible, so as not to break it.
Shane glances to one side as Daisuke drops onto the couch, long enough to recognize who it is, and gives the standard SoCal greeting — A slightly more than fractional upward twitch of her chin — and returns to her playing. "…Resonance of Fate," she says, knowing well what the question is likely to be even if she had no idea what Daisuke actually said. On the TV, lithe men and a frilly woman demonstrate a marked lack of respect for the laws of physics, tumbling through the air, dual-wielding machine pistols, and in general looking to be the steampunk answer to Equilibrium in low-gravity.
Which is about when she notices Quenton's arrival. The temperature around the girl seems to drop, and one hand leaves the controller long enough to fiddle with the iPod at her belt. Moments later, she pulls the earphone cup nearest Daisuke away from her ear, loosing a blast of shattering punk metal and a screamed CLEAR YOUR MIND! HIDE YOUR FEAR! DON'T LOOK ROUND DON'T TURN AROUND, PENNYWISE IS HERE!! before the music is stopped.
"I haven't played an rpg since Playstation 2. I used to watch my brother play the games and I would hold the strategy guide." Daisuke says as he's always enjoyed video games. He settles into the chair so that he can watch her play content with just being a spectator until Quenton comes in. "Hello, I take it you're new here? I'm Daisuke or just Dai." He says to Quenton giving a little wave in greeting. "I'm a student helper and tutor here."
Quenton cringes at the screaming music from Shane's iPod, hands clenching into fists within the confines of his synthetic leather jacket. He glances towards Daisuke a moment, lip twitching, before glancing towards Shane, though he addresses the older mutant. "Yeah? Good for you. Nothing like feeling helped. I'm Quenton. Some folks call me Q. I don't give a damn, to be honest." He gestures towards the television. "This looks like crap."
The only sign that Quenton scored on Shane with his last comment, a slight narrowing of her eyes and a slow, deep breath. Once the battle's over, she all but crushes the dashboard button on the controller, turning the console off without comment. But not once does she look towards the other student, leaning back in the couch and smoothing down the apron, pausing a moment to finger the stitched symbols on the pockets, and stare at the fake-but-genuine-looking bloodstains with a hint of pride. Finally, she clears her throat, looking to Daisuke. "Sup?"
"Well, nice to meet you Q." Daisuke says. "And okay then, whavever." He says before turning to Shane. "Not to much, early in the school year so I don't have much tutoring to help with so far but a lot of teachers need little things done so I've been keeping busy." He says taking off his hat and brushing his hair back. "Been practicing the drums a bit, how about yourself?"
"Thanks, cupcake, now if you don't mind changing the channel so that the rest of us can be entertained while you enjoy being a rebel, that'd be nice, thanks," Quenton says towards Shane, glancing at the dashboard at the screen and wondering what's on Netflix, though he doesn't voice this. "Yeah, sure, it's always awesome to meet a Japanese gangster," he then agrees with (?) Daisuke, bobbing his head amiably.
Slow, deep breaths. Out goes the bad air, in comes the good. Out goes the urge to find every last button to push, in comes the ability to be marginally civil. Shane's fingers curl around the remote, squeezing for a moment… then she loops her free arm around the back of the couch, turning to toss the remote to land somewhere in the general vicinity of Quenton's feet. "Change it yourself, Slim Jim." Dropping back, she looks to Daisuke, raising her eyebrows in an attempt to make of herself the soul of innocence, nevermind that her habitually sullen face makes it impossible. "Couple projects. Thanks for the catalogs."
Daisuke looks at Quenton for a second before stifling a chuckle. "Well apparently I know who I'll be tutoring come midterms." He says to Shane as he find the Japanese Gangster comment to be quite amusing. "No problem, I should drag you to Japan with me sometime. I really think you'd love it there."
Quenton stares at the remote, lip twitching. Shane 1, Quenton 0. He wets his lips, before glancing at the television, then back down at the remote. This was going to be difficult. Very difficult. He doesn't know what to do, honestly, so he just stares at the dashboard, jaw clenching. "No, go on. Put on one of your cartoons, Wapanese Wonder." He nudges the remote with his toe, which causes it to slide across the floor, much more then it should, hitting the wall. Then he glances back up at Daisuke, and rolls his eyes. "Here's a hint, princess," he murmurs towards Shane. "Japanese boys don't look like they do in the cartoons. They've squinty eyes like your buddy here and are as short as you."
"Probably would," Shane answers in response to Daisuke's suggestion, watching the remote skitter across the floor and slam into the wall. The small, slight young mutant seems to cringe slightly at the sound, then pauses, blinking and frowning at herself in thought. "…Huh," she murmurs to herself, shrugging, then draws in a deep breath, rising and turning to kneel on the couch, leaning over the back on her elbows. "Aight. Here's a tip for *you,* princess. You ain't the biggest bitch in school. *I* ain't the biggest bitch in school. And I *try.* Biggest bitch in the school *runs it.* So *shut the fuck up* for a change." Her piece said, she turns back around, dropping onto the cushion and scratching her arm, as though lost on what to do *now.*
Daisuke just looks at Quenton as if he has three heads, not two but three. He just can't believe what he just said. He's about to say something when Shane goes on her rant and he figures that it's good enough. He can't really add anything to make what she said better so he just looks at his friend and smiles at her. Dai mouths her a 'thank you'. "So what squad did you end up on this year? Still with Dr. Parker-Mayfair?"
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not a bitch at all. Though I'm proud of you," Quenton murmurs, lifting his hands and clapping them. "You own that you're a bitch. It takes a… well, not brave, but it takes some real self-discovery to admit that. Hell, you even try to be a bitch, which is precious, really, I'm sure the staff of the school is proud of you." He continues to applaud, the sound rather loud, air rippling around his hands before he drops them back onto his knees. He hesitates when he hears the name Parker-Mayfair. He hasn't met the doctor, but the culinary teacher was pretty cool. But then he's back on the offensive. "Now, if you don't mind, sunshine, turn the fucking channel or I'll make sure you can't play your little Resonant Faith game."
"Mr. Guthrie," is Shane's answer to Daisuke, shoulders hunching as Quenton gives her speech a round of applause. Her teeth grind, audibly, and she slowly rises to her feet, turning around and smoothing out the front of her dress. *Really* lifelike bloodstains, those… "…Y'know what? Fuck you. Here," she continues, stepping around the couch and closing on Quenton's chair, "lemme say that again, just in case it didn't clear your ego. Fu-u-u-uck. *You.* You wanna change the channel?" A hand lances out, pointing at the divot in the baseboard where the remote lies. "Get up off your lazy pampered ass, toddle on over to where you kicked it like a snot-nosed child, and *change it yourfuckingself.*"
Daisuke has been trying not to give Quenton too much attention but he finds that it's probably what the kid wants, even so though he's reached his limit. He looks around at Quenton and says in a very soft, but very firm, voice. "Listen here you douchebag. If you want to be an asshole, fine, that's great, but do it some where else. Just don't you ever, -ever-, order someone to change the channel for you like some jackass. If you threaten Shane again, you will be sorry. If you make me raise my voice, you will be sorry." He says glaring daggers at Quenton.
"Nice shoes," Quenton comments to the fuming Shane, staring at her feet a moment before glancing amusedly over at Daisuke. "I didn't threaten to hurt her, Prince Valiant. I wouldn't do that, not as I am right now, anyway." His eyes flick up to Shane's face, tilting his head now. "I was going to break her stupid game. But you obviously have something to prove. My guess is fangirl here's fauning over all things Asian gives you the biggest boner an Asian guy could possibly have." He leans back now, placing his hands behind his nape. "If either of you can't stand the heat, though, that's your problem, not mine. You've already succeeded in entertaining me."
Heather zips into the recreation room, as usual slowing down without too much force in order to spare the carpet. She is wearing her squad uniform, presumably still from the training session that was in the morning, and a pair of tinted goggles over her eyes. She glances between all the people in the room and fiddles with her tape recorder for a moment, "I see that everyone in this room looks like they are getting along." She pause. "That was sarcasm." She flips the goggles up onto her forehead.
While a red face is something normally associated with apoplectic fury, not so common is a person's entire body flushing the same color. "Yeah," she says softly, "they are nice boots, aren't they?" The flush leaves her skin, concentrating on the pointed finger that now moves to level between Quenton's eyes. "Special made. They can do a neat trick. You don't stop running your fucking mouth, you'll get to see it." Her finger glows bright red for a moment, the pent-up energy discharging in a small flare of light… but the compressed-air shockwave is enough to blow back the hair of both students, accompanied by the sound of a lit-off M80.
"Oh hey Heather." Daisuke says to her and gives her a smile. "The new student here, Q, has decided to prove he's awesome by being a real jerkass." He says before looking over at Quenton again. "Did I say you said you'd hurt her, no. I said you threatened her, last warning. You better cool it or…" Then Shane does her thing and there's a bit of a smile from Daisuke. "So Q, you want to keep talking?"
"Oh, this?" the dark haired mutant murmurs, glancing towards Heather. "This is how me and Shane flirt, see? Me complimenting her shoes, her threatening my life. Speaking of which," his attention drifts to Shane. "I imagine that you threatening me doesn't get the same valor from your boyfriend here," Quenton murmurs, before his hair is blown back by the shockwave while the glowing finger is pointed between his eyes. The sound actually makes Quenton flinch, something rate, his body going rigid for a moment. He tries to push the memory of the first time he heard a sound like that at such close proximity away, and his sunglasses do well to hide his watering eyes, so, after a deep breath, he chuckles dryly. "See? I threaten to break a game, he pops up. You threaten to blow my head off with your power, and he's all smiles and sunshine." His heart is pounding in his chest, from fear, not anger, or else he'd have berserked by now. Through gritted teeth, he does say, "Get your fucking finger out of my face."
Heather does not really move as the shockwave goes off, though she rubs her ears for a moment after it passes. "I would appreciate it if you calmed down, and I am playing this message to anyone who happens not to be calm. This is a recreation room, not a wreck-reation room." She pauses for a moment and plays, "That was a pun. I am working on my humour today."
"If I was threatening your life," Shane hisses, bending down slightly, "he'd've put me in Medical. This isn't *threatening* your life. When I want to threaten your *life?*" And she leans down just a little bit more, letting the finger fall away. "I'd give you a biiiiiig hug." Straightening, she walks past the TV, shutting the console all the way down on her way, and comes to a stop by the remote. Gently, the toe of one of her clubstompers rests on the device, a backwards shove sending it skittering back across the room to rebound off Quenton's chair. "Heather," she says to the newcomer, nodding her hellos.
"Oh so what, you want a guy like me to come to your defense Q?" Daisuke says. "Maybe you should be less of a jerk than. So either you apologize and calm down or I'll put you down." He says and he's serious about it too though the entire time his voice is quite, firm at times, but Dai hasn't once raised his voice. "Sorry Heather, trying not to turn this room into a wreck-reation room."
Quenton remains in the chair for a while, trying to control himself. He wets his lips once more, sweat on his brow, though he still is very good at hiding how afraid he just was. At Daisuke's words, he scoffs. "I'm not apologizing for anything," he mutters, rising to his feet. "So fuck you, and fuck your little girlfriend there." The remote is glanced at, and he considers destroying it, but his thoughts drift to the culinary teacher again, once more. What if the man wants to show Logo or something? So he decides not to destroy the remote, while glancing up at Daisuke when he speaks to Heather. "Bullshit you're not. You're the one who threatened to hurt somebody, not me. Now I'm leaving. Get the fuck out of my way, you little hypocrite."
Heather observes Quenton's reaction and raises her eyebrows slightly. She steps out of the way of the door in order to allow him a fair berth of passage. She returns the nod that is given to her by Shane and plays, "Hello," as a reply.
Shane crosses her arms as Quenton storms toward the door, glaring daggers at his head the entire way. Her lip curls up at the corner, as he passes nearest her place by the wall, nose wrinkling. Just barely loud enough to be heard by Daisuke and Heather, Shane's voice rises in a single, damning word.
"Pussy."
"I just said I'd put you down, I didn't say anything about hurting you." Daisuke says as thinks he can put Quenton down without harming him. "And she's not my girlfriend, Shane's my friend, a good friend. I don't like seeing bullies like you try to push over my friends." He says as he leaves and he sits back down on the couch and pushes his hair back. "I'm sorry you had to deal with someone like him, I really can't stand jerks." He says frowning. "Sorry you have to walk into this Heather."
Quenton halts at Shane's words. He does. He tilts his head to the side, before turning to face Shane, now. He wants to do something wrong. He wants to destroy something, but it's much too risky, right now. Destroying school property would make Mister Mayfair-Parker hate him. Hitting a girl is still wrong in his mind, having never got over that childhood lesson. And hitting a teacher might get him expelled. So, this blow to his pride is one he will have to take, unfortunately. And so, his rebuttal:
"Cunt."
"Aren't those both words for the same thing?" says Heather, glancing between the people in the room, "They are both vagina words." She walks quickly towards the couch in order to lean up on the back of it and cross her feet.
"*Believe it,*" Shane snarls, turning her back and stalking toward the couch, dropping on the cushions on the other side of Heather as hard as physically possible for the literal 98-pound weakling. Curling her legs up underneath her, hunching her shoulders, she does her very best to hide the shaking of her hands, now that the adrenalin begins to wear off.
Daisuke doesn't say anything but just glares at Quenton before walking over to pick up the remote and place it on the coffee table. "Yes they are Heather and they're both insults, especially what Quenton said." He says before looking at Shane and giving her a smile. "You okay, you were pretty awesome sticking up for yourself."
"Because I said it," Quenton explains to Heather, before moving towards the wall, shaking his head. His pride's still hurt, so he opts to regain some of his machismo by leaving the school to go into the forest and punch something as hard as he can. And so he storms off, lifting a hand over his shoulder and flipping off anyone who happens to be looking his way, even poor Heather, who had nothing to do with anything.
Heather indeed watches as Quenton goes, but she shrugs slightly at the flipping off happening in her general direction. She turns to the other two in the room and says, "What happened here? It seems like there has been rather severe tension. And I do not see how one vagina word can be worse than any other." She moves her hand through her tangly hair and shrugs, "It was strange to walk in on."
Shane lets out a long, shuddery breath, dropping her forehead onto her forearms. For a long moment, she remains like that, struggling to get her emotions under control, before she lifts her head again, almost-but-not-quite back to normal… for her, anyhow. "….Sorry. Just… Never did that before. … Guys like him, you don't do that to. Prob'ly would've been crawling out my locker couple years ago."
Daisuke looks at Shane and then leans in to give her a hug. "Well it's a good thing to be able to stand up to yourself. A part of me just wanted to yell at him so bad and just see his ears bleed." He admits. "Though I have to get going I gotta call my Grandmother over in Japan or else she'll worry. I'm glad you stood up for yourself Shane." He says as he stands up and puts his had back on. "Nice to see you Heather, both of you have a good night!" He says as he heads out of the room.
Heather nods at Daisuke and waves, "It was nice to see you as well, have a good night." She looks over towards Shane and then circles the couch in order to sit down. She looks towards Shane and says, "I am not very socially adept, I was not quite sure what was going on, I apologize if I was a bother in that situation."
"S'fine," Shane mutters, scrubbing her face with her hands for a moment, then clearing her throat. "Just… Quenton being an asshole, 'n someone finally calling 'im on it. Just…" She laughs softly, shaking her head, "…never thought it'd ever be me, y'know?"
Heather tilts her head slightly and says, "Well, I suppose it was brave if that is something that you are scared of… I am never sure if people are being jerks or nice to me, so I tend not to worry about such things, but if he hurt you, it is good that you stood up."
Shane shakes her head. "Just… people like that? Massive douchebag bullies? Been scared of'm all my life. Pretty good reason t'be, too, but…" She runs a hand through toxic yellow-green hair. "Then it just sorta hit me. What the hell could he do to me, worse'n what your parents did, y'know?"
Heather nods at Shane and then says, "I suppose their influence can make many things seem a lot less scary…" She tilts her head in thought for a moment and then shrugs, "Well, it is good that you are not letting yourself be bullied here. Being mutants is kind of an equalizer in this setting."
"Never really thought about it before," Shane says, slowly beginning to uncurl. "I mean, here it's like a normal high school… 'cept, y'know… *Everyone's* got guns, y'know?" Lifting a shoulder, she lets her head fall back. "But, just… damn. ….Kinda nice. Dunno 'f I could do that, like, all the time, but… damn."
"I have not given it very much thought myself I suppose," says Heather, tilting her head slightly, "The context in which I grew up was both balanced and unbalanced. Here, though, I am not particularly afraid of the other students, because most of them are aware that if they try to harm me, there will be consequences that come with that action. I imagine were I not a mutant and in a normal school, I would be bullied a great deal."
"Prob'ly," Shane mumbles, running a hand over her face again. "Trust me. Could've gotten a Master's in Being Fucked With. Like, I coulda told you how new a garbage can was just from bein' stuffed in headfirst, by sixth grade."
Heather nods at Shane and says, "Well, I am glad you are now in an environment where at least that is less common, and when it does occur? You have full capabilities of defending yourself. You did not deserve being treated poorly." She adjusts the goggles on her forehead lightly, looking up.
Shane snorts, lifting her head. "Nobody does. S'why I hate bullies, 'n why I wish I'd'a known who it was when I punched your mom in the face. *Nobody* oughta be treated like they do with people. *Ever.* 'N it's about time people started learnin' that."
"No, certainly not. They are bad people, bullies I suppose. If it were not for them, I would be not quite how I am. Which, I suppose, is the only worthwhile thing I gained from my interaction with them: my identity," says Heather, shrugging lightly.
"Iunno," Shane says, quietly, looking down at her lap. "SOmetimes I wonder what I'd've turned out like, if I didn't have any of this…" She trails off for a second, and frowns, shaking her head. "Whatever. You asked why those last things we said, Q and I, why they were insults?"
"I guess you might have turned out to be something different, but if you had, the person you are now would be dead, no longer even a live possibility. And… Yes, I suppose I do not understand such insults, and how one can be worse than the other," says Heather, shaking her head quickly.
Shane lifts a shoulder. "What I called 'im… 'S basically like, shovin' all the worst parts that people ever thought about how girls're weak 'n stupid 'n cowards, all into one word. 'N what he said? Most people think of it like, all the worst things about how girls don't even mean *anything* in one word." The slight mutant lifts her shoulder. "…Ain't the first time I heard that at me, honestly… these days I just think of it like someone sayin' 'bitch' with an extra helping of fuck you."
"But they mean vagina!" protests Heather, eyes somewhat widened, "I read in an anatomy textbook that all girls have one." She frowns and looks aside for a moment and then back, "I guess it seems very harsh to say that girls do not mean anything. That is a very broad insult."
Shane shrugs more visibly. "Don't make up th'words, I just learn' 'em. But yeah… 'S prob'ly why Daisuke looked like 'e wanted t'take Q's head off. Maybe I woulda too… 'cept, like I said, don't mean much to me."
Heather nods at Shane and tilts her head back and forth, "I guess not. I do not understand these meanings of words that are not just the normal meanings. I guess they have meanings that are just bound by the social context in which they are spoken? I will try not to misstep in my speech. Quenton seemed a little rude when I met him before, but I was not sure. I suppose he must be, though."
Shane snorts. "He's the kinda guy I know *way* too well. Thinks 'e owns the place, figures he doesn't have to watch what he says to no one, 'cos who's gonna hurt 'im? 'Cept now it's gonna be worse, cos I stepped up. And now he's gotta make up for havin' to back off a wimpy little girl, so probably he's either gonna make some real trouble an' get thrown out, or just make life a little suckier for everyone he sees, just in case they heard 'bout what happened here. Can't have people gettin' ideas that he ain't the biggest and baddest thing since ever."
Heather shrugs slightly and says, "I am unsure of his abilities, frankly, as he is fairly new. I document these things, in case there are any inter-squad competitions or anything." Heather tends to play tactician in the squad setting, Shane would have quickly learned, and can sometimes be a bit nosy about abilities and skills. "But I have learned to stop time itself, so I do not find myself so concerned about it. If I hear about him bothering or hurting anyone else, well, I will keep an ear open."
"That…. sounds pretty useful," Shane says after a moment. "Um… I guess I'll, um… let you know if something happens?"
Heather nods at Shane and says, "That might be a good idea. And… I suppose it is rather useful, but I cannot do it for long. I suppose technically I cannot do it for any amount of time at all."
Shane chuckles briefly, the corner of her mouth turning up. "That was good…" Looking out the window, the young teen sighs, raking a hand through hair. "….Think I oughta get to bed, Heather," she murmurs. "Gettin' kinda late, 'n I still got a report t'write for Friday."
Heather nods at Shane and says, "I think I should be sleeping soon myself, just for a little while. Have a good night." She stands up and glances around, before offering Shane another nod and zipping off.
