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| subtitle =  
| subtitle =  
| location = <XS> [[Kai's Dorm]]
| location = <XS> [[Kai's Dorm]]
| categories = Citizens, Mutants, Xavier's, Kai, Ivan, Kai's Dorm
| categories = Citizens, Mutants, Xavier's, Kai, Ivan, XS Dorm
| log =A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks.
| log =A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks.



Latest revision as of 17:40, 19 June 2013

Bugs and Dragons
Dramatis Personae

Ivan, Kai

In Absentia


2013-03-20


Ivan brings Kai a present.

Location

<XS> Kai's Dorm


A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks.

Spring Break is almost over, and there are the sounds of life returning to the halls at Xavier's. Those rescuees that have been relocated to the school have been the only ones haunting the empty corridors -- mostly in relative silence, so the sound of the regular students' return is an odd sort of buzz that's both exhilarating and a little intimdiating.

Kai has taken refuge in his own room. Not having a roommate (probably the one in his head is enough), his room seems exceptionally quiet. The only real noise is the sound of language lessons that come from a small CD player on the bed. Kai listens to the instructions intently, sweatpant-covered knees drawn up to his t-shirt-clad chest as he sits on his pillow, watching the player as if it were an actual person. Obediently, he repeats the English phrase in halting, heavily-accented words. "Ex..cuse me. Can you. Tell me. Where. To find. The. Library?"

"Very good!" the CD responds. "Now, try {I need to use the bathroom.} 'I need to use the bathroom.' {Repeat.}"

Kai blushes. "I. need. to. use. the. Bathroom."

The last few days have been usual ones for Ivan- he's been out and about and away from the school, which is not a thing he is usually known for, whether or not classes are actually going! Yet he's been gone for a large part of today, as well. But he's back now and apparently on a roll with the whole /social/ thing, because he appears at Kai's dorm room door with a backpack clutched to his chest, dressed in a blue striped shirt and simple jeans, expression one of clear doubt as he tilts his head at the last line spilling into the hallway. Hm. Nevertheless, a quiet knock-knock is delivered to Kai's door.

The knock at the door brings Kai's attention up, and the latest phrase is lost as he reaches out to tap the stop button. Cautiously, he slides from the bed and pads to the door, swinging it open a crack to peer at the visitor. There's a bright smile when it turns out to be Ivan, and he pulls the door open. "Ivan!" he says, in his trademark soft voice. "It is...good to see you," he says slowly, his brow furrowing as he struggles for the correct phrases. "How are you been?"

"Have." Ivan responds in an equally meek sort of voice, with more of a G than an H sound at the start of the word. He somewhat belatedly mirrors the smile in greeting, genuine, but brief. "How /have/ you been." He blinks, then, studying Kai's face while he talks. "Or how /are you/." The actual answer to Kai's question seems to go unanswered, and Ivan is pulling several books out from his bag. Most of them brightly coloured but well-loved. That is to say-- they've probably gone through a few owners already, a little rough around the edges. When he offers them over to Kai with an expectant look on his face, the top one of the four books reads: BEGINNER'S ENGLISH: FOODS AND WHEN WE EAT THEM.

Kai listens, eyebrows lifting as Ivan explains the correct phrasing. He nods, then, and smiles widely. "How /are/ you," he repeats, "/Are/ you." He pauses for a moment, as if listening to something, and wrinkles his nose as he turns his attention to the sudden gifts. His eyes widen when Ivan offers them, and he takes them hesitantly. His eyes scan the foreign words, and the smile he offers this time is shy as he looks back up. "These...yours?" he says slowly, furrowing his brow. "And you bring them for me?" He moves into his room, then, his expression unreadable as he moves back into the room, motioning Ivan to follow. "I never have book before," he says haltingly, looking back at the other boy. "...thank you." Then a curious look. "What do the...words...say?"

Ivan follows without question, scanning the room as he enters it. There's a brief flash of black as something long slithers barely out the bottom of his shirt and then back up again, but the boy himself pays it no attention. "They /were/ mine. They /are/ yours." He replies, speaking slowly, lifting the now somewhat lighter backpack to hang over one of his shoulders. He struggles for words for a moment, then answers tentatively, "Easy words. You can learn them."

One of the books might be aimed at children rather than young adults, one of them in particular seems to focus on the alphabet alone, cheerful and stubbornly redundant in its repetition of pictures depicting different words starting with the same letter. The others are aimed at specific subjects- one on culture, simplified, and one with a collection of short stories in very simple English indeed. That one, however, has scribbled Russian translations of sentences littered throughout. But the useful bits are still legible, at least.

The room itself is very spartan. Only the bed and furniture occupy the small space, with no sign that anyone actually lives here, other than the rumple on the bed where Kai had been sitting. Kai nods at the explanation, his expression warming when Ivan proclaims the shift in ownership. The books are clutched to his chest, briefly, in a mildly possessive hug. "Thank you!" is more fervent, and assured, and Kai frees one arm to wrap it around Ivan's shoulder in a sideways hug that's fairly tight, for such a skinny kid. "You are good friend." He releases the embrace, then, to move and place the books reverently on the provided shelf. His fingers trace each title before it's placed, keeping the alphabet book out and tucking it under his arm before turning back to the other boy. "Where.../have/...you been?"

Oof. The hug comes unexpected, and Ivan tenses slightly when it comes his way, only managing a surprised jaw-clench in surprise before it is already over. Whether or not he agrees with being a good friend goes decidedly unsaid, partly because of momentary distraction when a giant African millipede abandons the inside of the back of his shirt to crawl down along his leg. Perhaps it is not a fan of hugs.

"Peter." Ivan answers simply, then, seemingly unaware of the ~10 inch long black and brown bug spiralling down past a trouser leg. "He was-- hurt." A brief frown, as he considers something. Then, the bugboy lifts a tightened fist and feigns a punch across his own face, dramatic slow motion headturn and all. HURT. Like that.

Kai's eyes widen, either at the millipede or the information on what Ivan has been up to -- it's hard to say. Until he chews at his lip. and one eyebrow furrows. "Is Peter...okay?" he asks, verifying the cause of his concern as he sinks to the bed, lowering the alphabet book to his lap. His face clouds as he searches for the appropriate words, wincing a bit as he tips his head in that listening expression. There's another long moment of awkward silence before he finds what he's looking for. "Who hurt them?"

Pronouns are hard.

Ivan, too, takes a little while to respond. His attention turns to the millipede as it inches closer and closer to the floor, but just as it is about to crawl across the toe of his shoe, Ivan leans it back on its heel. The millipede seems confused as its world shifts upward.

"Monster," finally comes a quiet reply, together with a brief look upward to watch Kai's face for recognition.

Kai watches the millipede, his gaze thoughtful and somber. "Ah," is a soft exhale when Ivan explains, and he looks up. "Is it dead?"

Ivan furrows his brow. He doesn't look quite sure what to answer, crouching down to lay a hand flat on the ground. "Yes." Or maybe not. It's supposed to be. That's just one of the monsters Peter spoke of, though, which might be why he sounds a little dubious of the fact. Though it may easily be interpreted as indifference.

The millipede's urge to crawl onto the floor and away recedes, heading for that placed down hand instead. Upon climbing aboard, it is lifted up to in front of Ivan's face so he can stare at it closer. "Peter is okay."

"I'm glad." Kai offers a small smile. "But he is like Superman. Is hard to hurt Superman." He places his hands over his face in a mimck of Peter's mask in demonstration. Then he lowers them, his expression worried. "Peter is coming back to this place?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "When he is better?" He offers a smile. "Soon?"

Whoah. Ivan looks up again, straightening with the millipede still casually sitting on his hand. And, well, half coiled around his wrist. "I-- do not know." Ivan replies after a few seconds of staring at Kai, eyes tired from lack of sleep. "You learn very fast." A smile! A small one, but there nonetheless.

Kai blushes at the compliment, and ducks his head. "Mister...McCoy, he give me cee dees to listen, which help." He waves a hand at the hall. "And many speaking all around." His lips press tight for a moment, and his eyes unfocus. "Foom helps," he amends reluctantly, grimacing as he rubs the scar on his chin. "Peter should come back," he offers after a moment. "That will make you happy, yes?" He smiles. "He is your good friend."

Ivan's head cocks sideways as Kai speaks, slowly nodding. Something about that one sentence-- had he not been aware? "... 'Foom'?"

HKK. Ivan winces, pulling the hand he'd been holding up closer to his body in a twitch, sending the millipede tumbling to the ground. It hits the floor with a solid -thud- before curling up tightly into a perfect, shiny black spiral. The hand it was on now has a red streak across it, and Ivan inspects it closely in confusion. /Ow/.

"Foom." Kai repeats the word in a tone that says that this is not necessarily a good thing. "He is listening, always. He learns." Kai's expression darkens as he speaks, and he lifts a hand to chew at a fingernail. "He is inside me." When Ivan winces, Kai flinches visibly before he's pushing to his feet and reaching for the wounded hand. "They know him," is his only explanation, although it's offered in a gentle, resigned voice. "It hurts badly?"

The millipede knows Foom, yes. Or maybe it is a new pet and still has to get used to being handled. But probably that first one.

Ivan is quick to shake his head at the question, flexing the fingers of his now rash-streaked hand. No pain, it seems, or at least very little. The millipede below begins to unfurl, twitchily, and Ivan shoots it a glance that is primarily one of concern. Though, admittedly, a tiny bit of anger. It isn't long before it starts coiling up his leg again, this time more compliantly than before. Your free will has been /grounded/, bug.

"I-- Foom... inside you?" He sounds confused, but his eyebrows abruptly rise afterward. Wait a minute. Oh. OH. Suddenly Ivan seems to understand, rumours and reality's puzzle pieces fitting together, and Kai gets stared at some more. Not with fear so much as surprise. "I should..." He lifts his unscathed hand to thumb over his shoulder, and leaves the rest of that sentence unspoken. But he does not yet move, as though the rest of said unfinished sentence was a question, rather than a statement.

Kai nods at the question, and Ivan's reaction gets a curious tilt of head as he works through what Ivan's expression tells him. "It is okay," he says, patting Ivan on the shoulder. "I am scared of him, too." He presses his lips together tightly, glancing at the door, then at the shifting light in the window. "It is almost time for meal," he notes, nodding with Ivan's unspoken question. "You are going to prepare?" He mimes washing and drying his hands, and smiles brightly.

Scared? Ivan seems to ponder this, but never quite appears to reach a conclusion. It's a /dragon/. It's kind of a hard thing to categorize on the go. Whatever his slightly hard-to-read face is telling Kai, though, the bugboy cracks another weak little smile at the later question.

"We can sit together." He promptly decides, turning to start walking away with a quick shake of his rash-covered hand. A moment later and the millipede appears across it again, having crawled its way there over his shirt. His next words are Russian, and aimed directly at that hand in an idly reprimanding tone of voice. "{After I put Sascha in solitary.}"