ArchivedLogs:In Which There Is A Distinct Lack Of Stabbing

In Which There Is A Distinct Lack Of Stabbing
Dramatis Personae Taylor, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2015-08-22 << Don't stare. Make eye contact. >>
Location <XS> School Grounds
Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse. The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous. One could not ask for a more classically perfect summer's day. Only a few white clouds dot the blue sky, and a cool breeze draws gently off the lake to offset the warmth of the blazing sun. Birds sing and cicadas drone, flowers bloom and children play. One could, indeed, walk most of the school grounds without ever realizing that it has come under siege. Tian-shin, however, seems plenty aware. She stands beneath the great oak tree, gazing down the driveway as if expecting hordes of journalists to round the last bend at any moment. She wears a pale blue wrap shirt, royal purple piping along its hem, collar, cuffs, and the long diagonal closure. Her black trousers are pleated, voluminous and have the same piping. Her glasses have thin red and black frames, and her hair is held in place by a black lacquer hair stick with a rainbow obsidian ball at its wider end. A black messenger sits against the tree behind her, as well as a Chinese longsword, its scabbard marked with many scuffs and nicks. Above Tian-shin there's a rustle in the leaves of the oak tree. One or two leaves dislodged to flutter to the ground. Higher up, the tree is -- slowly being colonized by thick black snakes coiling around the branches. No wait, not snakes; long ropey tentacles winding down from the roof to grasp a branch. Rustlerustle. Then a more sudden burst of shaking. Taylor swings himself off the roof and down into the trees, quickly. Limbs curling around smaller branches for stability as he lands on a thicker one, settles down to sit. He's in pale blue jean shorts. Barefoot, shirtless. One tentacle pulls the branches a little apart so that he can peek through them before looking down at Tian-shin. At the sword. "... are you expecting reporters or zombies?" Tian-shin stares up into the branches. << Snakes? Wait, no--what?! I...that /has/ to be a person, right? >> For a moment she looks acutely concerned at the profusion of tentacles and actually takes half a step toward her weapon. She relaxes, somewhat, when the rest of Taylor comes into view. << Right. Of course. Down, girl. >> "Hello. I..." She glances at the sword, then back up at Taylor. "Reporters, I guess? I don't intend to /stab/ anyone, I just got into a habit of carrying it when I go out. Because of zombies." << Oh, yes, very reassuring. >> "Which I am not expecting..." she adds hastily, "...any more than I usually do." Taylor hooks one limb around a branch above him. He leans against the curve of the tentacle, slumping against it lazily. The two longest of his limbs unwind from the tree branches, now, slowly curling around (and around, and around, and around) his torso, evidently just to keep the unwieldy long arms out of the /way/. "I bet some of the reporters would be thrilled if you stabbed them." His smile is strikingly white behind obsidian-black lips. "Well. Maybe not the ones you /actually/ stabbed. They'd have to take one for the team, right? The /rest/ of them would eat it up. I bet they're just dying for some crazy mutant violence." << Gah, that is a lot of tentacle. Don't stare. >> Tian-shin ducks her head demurely. "Well, they'll just have to learn to live with disappointment, because I'm not going to stab them. Besides..." She gestures at the driveway vanishing among the trees. "...I'm not sure too many of them will be willing to trespass, anyhow." << And if they do, I'm certainly going to find someone more experienced to deal with them. >> "I'm new here, by the way. My name is Hua Tian-shin. You?" "Probably for the best. I don't suppose it'd be good for a new career to stab someone right when you're starting?" Still gripping a bough with one coiled arm, Taylor hoists himself down off the branch. Swinging lower then lower then landing with a thump. He offers a /hand/ out to Tian-shin for shaking. He's wearing a crooked smile as two of the /second/ biggest sets of tentacles shift to drape behind him out of the way and -- a /little/ more -- out of sight. "Taylor. I'm so not new here. Kinda been looking forward to this day a long time." "/Not/ the kind of first impression I'm hoping to give, either on my own behalf or the school's." << Don't stare. Make eye contact. For heavens' sake, Tian-tian, it's not like you haven't seen weird looking people before. >> For all her self-coaching, she is not actually /upset/ by Taylor's appearance. Her smile is genuine and her handshake is exceptionally well-rehearsed: firm, confident, a single stroke down with steady eye contact. "Nice to meet you, Taylor. You feel ready--for new classes, new classmates, and the media attention?" "It's okay. I /am/ a little stranger than most. It could be worse." Taylor's smile is still easy. Grey-blue eyes kind of amused. Handshake firm, too, his hand rough and calloused. "I met this centipede kid once. Nobody ever wanted to shake /her/ hand." He takes a step back. Sits down in the tire swing, toes planted in the dirt to rock back and forth slowly. "I don't know. About the media, I mean. That's not going to be fun. But I'm sure you guys have prepared? I don't think the teachers would let anything terrible happen. I'm /pretty/ excited about new classmates, though. I think there's a lot of kids out there --" He shrugs. Two of his arms are snaking their way up along the ropes of the tire swing. "Who'll be excited to learn we exist." Tian-shin blushes faintly. "I have been living at the Harbor Commons, so--" Cutting herself off mid-sentence, she covers her mouth with one hand. Then very deliberately lowers it again. "Wait, did I say that out loud? Or..." The alternative doesn't even resolve itself into a coherent thought for several seconds, drowned out by pure mortification. Her cheeks flush bright red now. << Or he reads minds. Not that I have any right to be surprised by this and--oh, fuck. >> She sucks in a deep breath and calms down a little. "I apologize. You're--probably used to that." Her hand waves vaguely at her own head. << I hope. Maybe this is all very unpleasantly noisy for him. You. >> And the blushing gets worse again. "Unfortunately, I suspect you--and other students like you, and faculty and staff, for that matter--are going to bear the brunt of the media frenzy coming and going. We're going to do our best to minimize the harassment, though." << Or worse. Nope. Not going there. >> "I hope that we can spare the new students a lot of that. Moving and changing schools is stressful enough without a hundred cameras and microphones in your face." "No, you didn't, it's that second thing." The slender tip of one small tendril taps lightly at Taylor's temple. "And it's fine. Really. -- Hey, I have a lot of friends at the Commons. My roommate last year, he lives there. And my best friend does too." He keeps rocking the tire swing back and forth. "Obviously what we need to do is build, like, tunnels? Under the school. To get out to town without the reporters seeing. Oh or hire teleporters like a ferry service! Make moving in luggage less hassle, too." "Oh, really!" Tian-shin's smile returns, though her cheeks have not returned to their usual tone. << That should hardly surprise me, either. >> "I live with my brother and Joshua, but I've seen quite a bit of Jax and his household..." Though here her mirth fades. << ...for all the good /that's/ done him. >> "Anyway, I love it there, but that would be a lot of tunnel to dig!" << There's probably someone who can do it in under ten seconds. >> "And a long walk underground." << Probably someone who can do /that/ in under ten seconds, too. >> "Or...right, teleport." She chuckles, adjusting her glasses. "There's definitely days I wish I could get around like Joshua." "Oh! Joshua. He's good people." Taylor's smile returns easily. "Shane was my roommate. And his boyfriend and I have been friends for -- ever." He hooks a leg up. Heel resting on the edge of the tire. The other foot continues to rock the swing back and forth. "How long do you think they'll stay out there?" One limb gestures in the direction of -- down the drive. "We've got people with /skills/. Tunnels wouldn't be a bad investment." "Joshua is pretty great. He's helped me a lot." Tian-shin nods, clasping her hands behind her back, trying not to let her brain go too far into the rapid-fire montage of chemical disasters that have resulted from her inability to control her powers. "And Shane's going to be stick around--here, that is. Well, obviously the Commons, too." << Of course he knows all that, silly. >> Dark brown eyes follow the direction Taylor points. "Hard to say. I'd give it at least a week, but it's not impossible that Think-of-the-Children mentality will pressure them into backing down." << Though it's more likely to make them persist, try and find out what nefarious things we are teaching these children. Oh crap... >> She sighs. "That's just a spot of pessimism on my part. Hopefully they'll be gone before fall term starts, but if not..." Her smile is lopsided this time. "Tunnels." Taylor laughs. Bright. Cheery. "Oh /man/ oh man I know! Isn't that great? Shane, I mean. You should /hear/ how much of a /fit/ some of the teachers -- they have /no/ chill about that." Though he sounds amused, more than anything, one arm rubbing across his bald head. "I requested him as an advisor now he's an X-Man. Since so many people have been shi -- I mean, ragging on him so much." He pushes himself up, standing, now, on the tire. "Ms. Deeb's math class is pretty brutal? But I doubt that's the kind of nefarious they're looking for." "Yeah, the faculty email list has been an utter 'all lives matter' train wreck, and Shane's caught a lot of flack over it." Tian-shin sounds and feels less amused about this. "I'm glad he's staying, though. I don't know him too well, but he's passionate and forthright and I feel like this school needs that." << Also, blue. Though as far as physical mutants on faculty goes, blue seems to be /the/ color... >> She shakes her head quickly. "No, they're probably more looking for is evidence we're brainwashing you all into thinking it's okay to be a mutant." << Or training you to be terrorists... >> "I've only heard -- some things. Enough to make me /wish/ I could turn my brain off," Taylor admits, smiling crookedly at Tian-shin. "I just wish this had happened earlier, really. And -- in different circumstances. It's hard to really pretend the administration is doing this because they care about our needs when --" Another quick shrug. Taylor's eyes focus outward again. Down the drive. His forehead bops up against the rope of the swing. "But their intent's kind of irrelevant. Maybe their hand was forced. It'll still /have/ a positive benefit for lots of kids." He looks down again. Brows lifting. "It's sad how that's considered brainwashing? Like what, they should be teaching us to hate ourselves? The only acceptable thing is to make sure we never learn to be comfortable with who we are? The world would like that, I think." "I do think it will do good things, whatever the reason, but..." Tian-shin hesitates. << I really don't know the culture of this school well enough to comment on it. >> "Doing the right thing for the wrong reason often turns into people thinking they did it for the right reasons, and that it means they've done enough. I hope it doesn't turn out that way here." She takes a step back and leans on the trunk of the tree. "I think there's a lot of people out there who would prefer it if we just went away. Or who mistake their hatred for compassion." << Themis. >> "Or who want to thing of us as broken versions of them, and don't want us thinking otherwise, certainly not teaching otherwise." << And anyone who teaches something you disagree with is brainwashing, of course. >> She looks down the driveway, as well, vaguely troubled. "We've got a lot of work to do." "Hmm." Taylor pulls his brows inward. A sudden shift of his weight sends the swing tipping unsteadily. "I can hope it doesn't go that way. You'd have to be willfully oblivious not to see that it's gonna be a /really/ long time before we've /ever/ done enough." His smile, at least, still bright. "And I don't think most people here are afraid of hard work."