ArchivedLogs:Proper Life Goals: Difference between revisions

From X-Men: rEvolution
Jump to navigationJump to search
(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Anole, Kyinha | summary = "I guess at least it's not like anyone's going to -- loathe me /more/ than people already do." | gamedate = 2016-05-05 | gam...")
 
No edit summary
 
Line 5: Line 5:
| gamedatename =  
| gamedatename =  
| subtitle =  
| subtitle =  
| location = <XS> Classroom One
| location = <XS> [[Classroom One]]
| categories = Anole, Kyinha, Mutants, Xavier's, XS Classroom One
| categories = Anole, Kyinha, Mutants, Xavier's, XS Classroom One
| log = Desks arranged into neat rows make up this, a fairly typical classroom. Chalkboard in front, teacher's desk in front of that. Windows along one wall look out on the grounds, providing plenty of opportunity for distraction for daydreaming students.
| log = Desks arranged into neat rows make up this, a fairly typical classroom. Chalkboard in front, teacher's desk in front of that. Windows along one wall look out on the grounds, providing plenty of opportunity for distraction for daydreaming students.

Latest revision as of 15:51, 6 May 2016

Proper Life Goals
Dramatis Personae

Anole, Kyinha

In Absentia


2016-05-05


"I guess at least it's not like anyone's going to -- loathe me /more/ than people already do."

Location

<XS> Classroom One


Desks arranged into neat rows make up this, a fairly typical classroom. Chalkboard in front, teacher's desk in front of that. Windows along one wall look out on the grounds, providing plenty of opportunity for distraction for daydreaming students.

The classroom is very quiet, today. Not much by way of /class/ happening -- just rows of students with heads bowed industriously over AP Bio packets, pencils scratching at paper. Some students more industrious than others -- some turn in their papers long before the time is up for the standardized test, some sit and revise over and over and over, some look in considerable stages more of panic than others. Anole hasn't looked panicky, per se, but he's stayed in his seat till the very last minute. Even after time is called he's not getting /up/ -- though he's put his pencil down long ago. His chin is propped in his hand, green eyes slightly distant and fixed out the window where he sits somewhere towards the middle of the room, off at one side.

It's perhaps hard to tell how seriously Kyinha has taken his proctoring duties, since his glowing flame-colored eyes give no hint as to where they are focusing. He might just as easily have been engrossed in the tablet in his hand or staring at his class for the entire duration of the exam, sitting at his desk in button-down in abstract tesselated fish patterns and a knee-length black pleated skirt.

But when the period ends he rises to collect the packets and distribute candy from a large bowl patterned after a cutaway diagram of a human somatic cell. He claimed that the choice of candies was based upon their resemblance to various organelles, which is perhaps debatable, but in any event they are high-quality treats. When Anole alone remains, he makes his way over, mostly-empty candy bowl in one hand and heavy-duty accordion folder in the other. "Are you alright?" He cocks his head to one side. Shakes the remaining candy around the bowl. Tempt, tempt. "Blood sugar might be a bit low after all that."

Anole straightens with a start, blinking up at Kyinha and hastily sliding his test forward. "{Ohsorry,}" comes out in a sheepish squeak of French. "I didn't. Mean to. I mean I didn't notice the -- {sorry}, I wasn't. Writing on it." He peers down at the candies with a look of confusion, but takes one. "... what are they."

Kyinha waves the folder dismissively. "I know, I saw you've been done for a while." Sets down the candy bowl so he can shuffle Anole's test packet in with the rest of the class's. "Mitochondria," he replies, deadpan. Then, with a sliver of a fiery smile, "Well. Layered chocolate truffles that are vaguely shaped like mitochondria. They're labelled with allergen information, but this should all be nut- and gluten-free, at least."

"I eat out of the trash," Anole replies wryly, "I'm not really allergic to anything. I just meant what --" He plucks out one of the chocolates, holding it on his palm to examine its shape. "I've been done for a while and checked it too," he admits quietly. "I don't /think/ it was that hard. Maybe I'm entirely wrong and I failed completely." He doesn't /sound/ like he's giving this much weight -- though he doesn't sound particularly enthused about the prospect of high marks, either.

"I really need to find something better for DNA than these licorice twists." Kyinha's eyes narrow at the corners, his voice low enough to convey that this is a matter of grave import. "They're not proper double helices." He shuts the accordion folder and sets it aside, sitting down on the edge of the desk to the right of Anole's. "Based on your performance in class, I think it is very unlikely you've /failed completely/, not if you've put any kind of thought into this and checked it as well." He reaches into the bowl and picks up a strip of blue-green gummy candy dotted with colorful shiny candies that look like slightly more regular versions of Nerds. "I'd gotten the impression, too, that the subject interested you. I guess the standardized test, not so much?"

"They're also licorice, so that's a problem." Anole sounds fairly serious about this, as well. His eyes flick to Kyinha's folder, shoulders sagging very slightly before lifting in a small shrug. "I mean. These tests are -- it really only matters for college, right?"

"I don't mind licorice so much, but I should get a wider spread of flavors, true." Kyinha unwraps his -- whatever the weird hybrid candy is meant to represent -- and plucks off one of the candy dots to pop into his mouth. "Oh, certainly, this exam does not impact your grade here in any way whatsoever." He pauses, tilting his head very slightly in the other direction, giving the impression that he is studying Anole even if it's hard to tell where his gaze is actually fixed. "I assume that, since you chose to take it, you probably have university plans -- or aspirations?"

Anole doesn't answer this, at first. He picks his pencil back up, tapping its eraser lightly against the desk. The claws of his larger other hand tap against the desk, too, asynchronously. "I don't know," he finally replies. "I applied some places. The Professor said I should. But I've kind of. Just been sitting on my acceptance letters. I didn't answer any."

Kyinha rolls his bizarre candy up into a cylinder and nibbles on its edge. "Are you concerned about finances, or acceptance -- and not the kind you get in the mail -- or something else? Or actually just not interested in higher education?" Though here he adds, gently, "/This/ isn't a test, of course, and there's no /right/ answer or any requirement that you give one."

"I used to think I wanted to be a doctor." Anole sounds almost embarrassed about this. "But it's -- it just feels so stupid, you know? Even if these colleges let me in, what's it going to be like when I show up and they /see/ me? And even if I graduate, what's a college degree /worth/? Like anyone would actually hire me. I don't want to spend my whole life working at /this/ awful place." His cheeks darken deeper green. "... no offense."

Kyinha pops the rest of the candy into his mouth and chews slowly, his expression difficult to read for the featureless black of his skin and the featureless orange of his eyes. At length he says, "I am not offended -- I work here for my own reasons, and would not expect anyone else to share them, though I know some of my co-workers do." A pause. "I wish that I could in all honesty offer you reassurance, but...you're quite right, I'm afraid." This admission sounds somewhat reluctant. "I do not think it is /impossible/, by any means, for you to achieve such a goal, but is certainy not probable that you will without a great deal of connections and resources. And even if you have those connections and resources, or are somehow lucky enough to get by without them?" His head shakes quickly. "You will be constantly swimming upstream."

"I have a lot of connections," Anole replies, with a momentary brightness. His smile slips -- a little sideways. "If you need to find a safe sewer tunnel to sleep in. Finding a job -- less so." He sets his chocolate and pencil both down on the desk, using the tip of the pencil to push the candy absently around. "Going to be graduating in a month. Half of everybody is making plans and. And they're /telling/ the other half of us to. I just -- don't know."

"Those are important connections to have, as well, though I do not think they are the /only/ ones you have. I could easily help you find mentors or internships or jobs in certain fields -- not in medicine, but perhaps Doctor McCoy might?" His jet black fingertips play along the edge of the cell-bowl. "I am not saying that you must go to university, or even that it's worth the time and expense -- only you can decide that, and I appreciate that it is not an easy decision." He hums softly for a moment, considering. "You don't have to make it /now/, either. Your transcript and standarized test scores will still be around if you decide to apply next year, or the year after."

Anole nods slowly, eyes fixed down on his desk. On the mitochondria-chocolate he's moving around on it. "What was college like for /you/?"

Kyinha takes a deep breath. "Strange -- though there was more going on in my life at that time than just being a specter of fire and darkness. I went to Cornell, which was full of white people who thought they were more clever, more progressive, and more worldly than everyone else. Or, at least, more than they actually were. Some loathed me, some were fascinated with me, but most were just scared. Though..." His eyes narrow and tug toward each oher slightly. "...I cannot altogether fault them for that after I set my dorm on fire. Twice." He plucks up a chocolate mitochondrion of his own, unwrapping it quickly and eating it whole -- even from such brief contact with his hands, the candy had already begun to melt. "I doubt very much I would have made it past freshman year if not for my father's generous donations to the university, and even with that it was gruelling, socially."

"Oh -- oh. Your -- oh." Anole's lips purse. Then even out. His head bobs, quick, in one nod. "My parents don't really have --" Small shrug, dismissive. "B and Shane and Peter are all at college, but I don't think they're -- having a great time." His hand scrubs against his face, and finally he takes his chocolate to unwrap it -- slowly, as well. "I guess at least it's not like anyone's going to -- loathe me /more/ than people already do."

"Most people's parents can't do that, no, and being able to buy a university administration's compliance doesn't change how your professors and fellow students treat you." Kyinha looks down, briefly, at his sandal-clad feet. "/I/ made it through, but not alone -- I had a lot of support, more than most can expect -- and to be completely honest I don't know if it /was/ worth my time. But that doesn't mean it's not worth yours, if you feel called to it." He straightens up, gathering the candy wrappers into one hand. "If you /do/ decide to attend a university, drop me a note. I'll see what I can do to make the experience less shitty -- which might be exactly nothing, but you never know."

The smile Anole gives Kyinha is small -- but seems genuine enough. "{Thanks.}" As he stands he gives a quiet chuckle. "{And thanks...} for not just telling me to get a better attitude and try having Proper Life Goals."

Kyinha's "{You're welcome,}" is spoken in Spanish and signed in ASL simultaneously. He grins, fierce and flame-bright. "Anyway, even if I believed that, it would be /pretty/ hypocritical advice coming from me."