ArchivedLogs:Xtra-Curricular

Xtra-Curricular
Dramatis Personae Marinov, Nessie
In Absentia	2018-02-07 '
Location <WES> Sinkers and Suds - Salem Center
Taking over the spots where a popular coffeeshop and burger joint once stood pre-zombiepocalypse, this diner, though very new, has modeled itself in the throwback style of Salem Center's main drag. Black and white checkerboard floor underfoot, steel stools cheerfully upholstered in bright red vinyl, brushed chrome tables both standalone or in the booths that line the walls. The servers are impossibly perky, the jukebox only plays oldies, and the seats at the long counter also often include conversation with the very chatty soda jerk manning the fountain there. The smells of fried food and fresh coffee generally fill the air. It's been gray and rainy, and as the afternoon wears on more and more townsfolk are drawn to the warm brightness of the diner to soothe the sting of a day out in the cold and damp. By quitting time, there's hardly a free seat to be found in the venue. A pair of teenagers sitting at a booth stand out less because one of them appears partly insubstantial and more for being unfamiliar faces in a crowd of mostly local regulars, and for having empty seats beside them. The more transparent of the two is small and lithe and white, with a pixie haircut and faintly luminescent geometric markings on their skin that appear more substantial than the rest of them. The other, tallish and skinny, looks human, with brown skin and long, thin black braids down to their shoulderblades. The door jingles open, and for the briefest of moments there's a lull in the hubbub of conversation near the entryway, many eyes drawn to the click-click-click of feet as Nessie makes her way in. Right now she glistens; a sheen of water droplets has beaded up jewel-like and shiny along her dark carapace; she sheds some of the water with a small flick of spiky tail but some of it remains to drip more slowly down the hard sides of her long shelled body. Her jacket -- old, thick but well-worn -- is not very waterproof and looks rather sodden; she sheds it quickly after entering, revealing an only slightly damp grey Xavier's hoodie and an old canvas satchel underneath. Her wide black eyes scan the crowded room, a slow furrow forming between her brows. Her gaze lingers on the table with the translucent teenager -- she takes a few clicking steps nearer, but then hesitates, biting down at her lip. Before the door closes completely behind Nessie, a paw-like hand catches it and Marinov slips through into the restaurant. They try to wipe some of the moisture off the jacket to little avail, a feline scowl appearing for a moment across their face while they start to unbutton it. Underneath the jacket, they are wearing a grey vest over a white button up, with a salmon coloured bow tie. They seem pretty occupied by this task, only glancing up towards Nessie and remarking, "Hey. Does it look like there's any spots free?" The more opaque of the two teenagers at the booth spots the newcomers first and, looking around the diner, says something quietly to their companion with eyebrows raised. The translucent one follows their companion's gaze and flashes a (shy? apprehensive?) smile at Nessie and Marinov both. The first teen finally waves them over. "Hey, you can sit with us if you like," they say, their contralto melodious and clear even through the ambient chatter, "it's just the two of us." Though their eyes flick between Nessie's lower body and the bench seats uncertainly. Nessie's head turns only fractionally, her frown easing when she catches sight of Marinov out of the corner of her rearmost pair of eyes. "It's /pretty/ crowded," she replies dubiously, shifting her sodden jacket into her lower pair of arms as she rises a little higher up on her legs to peer back further into the room. Her eyes widen when the teenagers wave to them. "Woah do you know them? We should probably know them. I mean. Maybe they're new. They look new." Her steps are careful as she picks her way around the dining room's tables, trying to give other patrons' chairs as wide a berth as possible as she comes up to the side of the booth -- not even attempting to get /into/ the bench seats and just parking herself in a lowered crouch at the outside end of the table. Her pincer arms have tightened against her body, hugging her damp jacket close; she offers the other teens a small quick smile. "Gracias. It's busy tonight." Marinov's ears swivel first towards the pair of teens, before their eyes move to follow them. They glance towards Nessie and shrug slightly. "I don't recognize them either..." they say quietly, before waving back at the two and approaching. They fold their jacket, slide into one of the booth seats and echo Nessie's thanks: "Spasibo. Was worried that we'd have to wait for some tables to turn." Their eyes close in an attempt at putting on a friendly face, anything resembling a smile impossible on their felinoid features, before they ask, "So, umm, you new to the area? I haven't seen you around." "De nada," says the black teen, moving their jacket aside to give Marinov more room. "Yeah, even if the weather weren't awful, the food here's enough to draw a crowd. Oh right, I'm Ace, and this is Cherie." Cherie gives a small wave, looking maybe slightly /more/ see-through than before, though it's hard to say for sure. "Anyway, we're /kinda/ new to the area, I guess?" Ace continues, picking at their curly fries. "I don't sound like it, but I'm actually a Bronx kid." "I'm from Toronto," Cherie says softly, as though this were some kind of secret. "Originally. You are -- from around here?" Her pale eyes dart from Marinov to Nessie, visibly attempting not to stare at either. "Queens," Nessie answers with a brighter smile. Quick, though. "The Bronx is just around the corner you're practically a neighbor. As much as there are neighbors out -- here." One of her hands unfolds from under the jacket, pincers spread apart as she waves it generally around the diner. "Its kind of /nowhere/." Marinov glances about the diner. "I'm originally from Seattle, but I've been living around here for the last few years, I come here plenty enough just 'cause it's nearby," they say, nodding once towards Cherie. "I'm Marinov. Taylor Marinov. And," they gesture towards their chitinous companion, "this is Nessie. Cool to meet you both." "Aright, Queens!" Ace's grin at Nessie's reply is broad. "I grew up East Tremont, mostly. Great meeting y'all. But yeah, this isn't where we usually hang, and we're not out here to commune with nature, either." "Nature is very cold and wet," Cherie adds, her cheerful tone at odds with her words. A server has finally made his way over to the table to pass out additional menus and promises that water will be with them shortly. After he has departed, Ace goes on: "See, the thing is, Cherie was thinking about applying to go to your school -- I'm guessing since you know each other you /both/ go there?." They nod at Nessie's hoodie. "Anyway, there's so much hype and hysteria around Xavier's it's hard to know what it's like, really/, so we're out here hoping to talk to folks who know first hand." "Also this place has really good malt shakes." Cherie sips at hers by way of demonstration. "But we didn't know that before." "You too." Nessie brightens with the others' cheerful demeanors. She folds her jacket in half, setting it carefully down on the end of the bench beside Marinov's. "My family's mostly in Elmhurst and Woodside. And oh! /Yeah/! Cookies 'n cream malt, I'd come here /just/ for that. Though honestly /any/ excuse is a good excuse to get off campus --" Her nose wrinkles up quickly, head ducking as she plucks up a menu. Continues, hedging: "I mean not that campus is terrible I didn't mean like. It's just so -- /school/, you know? Have you done school before?" This question earnestly directed to Cherie. "Yeah, I'm lactose intolerant something fierce, but for the shakes here I've sacrificed my body to the ice cream gods before." Marinov chuckles and inclines their menu slightly, their eyes narrowed a bit as they try to make out the text. "Xavier's is okay, but it's still school, yeah. Far from perfect or anything. Some people are decent, some people are… less." They tap a claw a couple of times lightly against the laminate of the menu. "They've got real nice grounds, though." "No milkshake for me, but I could eat these curly fries /all day./" Ace eyes their dwindling pile of fries critically. "I'mma get another one." "I went to school when I was little. When I just had these and not the whole…disappearing thing." Cherie indicates "these" with a gesture at the sweeps of markings in muted but solid color on her face. "I don't know if the /school/ part is that important for me, but people say it's a place I could maybe learn to control the disappearing. While also not getting beaten up for looking like this. But people also say scary stuff about the school..." Her shoulders hunch and her transparency seems to fluctuate, every part of skin except the markings going from nearly see-through to almost solid. "We know a lot of it is probably bigotry, conspiracy theories, whatever." Ace spreads their hands in front of them, mouth pulling hard to one side. "But, considering the kind of shit flatscans keep trying to do to us, seems better to investigate right? And, I mean, your school's run by /humans/, right?" Nessie shrugs a shoulder, fingers toying with the corners of her menu. "I don't know I mean there's mutants and humans both on the administration, I guess. They're kind of -- oh fries! No, wait, I really wanted /breakfast/ food." Her face scrunches up, eyes fixated intently on the menu. "Wait, what are you investigating? It's kind of boring there honestly. I mean it's /posh/ they have /horses/ and a /swimming pool/ but there's a curfew and some of the teachers are really uptight." "Aw yeah, breakfast food," says Marinov approvingly, their head bobs up and down in enthusiastic approval of Nessie's intent. "Gonna be the usual sausage and eggs for me." They drop their menu back down to the table, ears perked up slightly at this talk of investigating. "I'm pretty curious what's going on in the rumour mill about the school. Are they saying we get brainwashed, or like, experimented on or what? It's, yeah, kind of just pretty ritzy but otherwise mundane. Most of the bad stuff that's happened to me since starting there I'd file in my 'the world at large is crazy as shit' drawer." They mime closing said invisible drawer. "I imagine it's an okay place if you need to control your powers." The server comes back and solicits order. Ace makes good on getting more fries, and Cherie asks for a root beer float. Cherie has been listening with earnest, wide-eyed attention. "We've heard they brainwash the students, yeah -- or at least telepathically influence them. Or there's a secret lab in the basement. Or a terrorist training facility. Or...I forget some of the other things." "Those the most coherent-sounding theories, anyway." Ace shrugs. "It doesn't help the school is real secretive, and that's /understandable/ and all, but...it makes people wonder." They raise their eyebrows. "/Is/ there a secret basement facility there, that you know of?" "Ooh, sausage and eggs. We're on a breakfast /roll/. -- Oh. They don't have any pandesal here." Nessie's lips purse in brief disappointment, but her smile returns soon enough -- she orders scrambled eggs with a side of hash browns. And a cookies n cream malt. Both pairs of her arms fold on the table after their menus get taken away, and she leans forward, tongue poking into her cheek. "/Brainwashed/? Are we brainwashed?" Her eyes skip to Marinov a little skeptically. "I guess we wouldn't know if we were!" Though she sounds more amused than alarmed. "There's a basement facility but we know about it so it's a pretty bad secret. It's got, like, the med lab, and people go there if they need extra training with their powers. There's a room that's pretty tough to break." Shrug. "I don't think we're-" Marinov blinks very slowly and nods towards Nessie, "Oh shit, yeah, that's right that we can't know. That's like stuff we talk about in philosophy class. We're having some dinner breakfast and deep thoughts." They also seem more amused than anything as they lean back and relax a bit. "As for terrorism, if you want to bring that up as an extra-curricular? But seriously, there's not really any doors in there that I wonder what's behind them. The school's got an unusual setup, but it's got an unusual set of challenges to deal with." Ace nods at the X-kids' replies. "That's kinda what I figured. And you /might/ not know if you'd been brainwashed, but who knows, maybe you would? It just seems doubtful anything like that would take equally well on everyone, and someone's bound to notice sooner or later." "Rumor are just rumors," Cherie says quietly, but she does not look very convinced. She's still clearly nervous, her transparency fluttering, fingers fidgeting. "I mean, we've even heard there's a /fighter jet/ at the school." "You know what?" Ace leans forward just a bit, bracing their elbows on the table, not quite conspiratorial though they do lower their voice. "What if there were something in it for you to keep an eye on your school's faculty and administration? I know it sounds really cloak-and-dagger, but Cherie isn't the only kid who doesn't trust grown-ups...especially humans." They smile a little sheepishly. "And I happen to /a person of means./" "Huh?" One of Nessie's eyes squints up, head cocking to one side in a touch of confusion. Behind her, the tip of her tail flicks slightly from side to side. "Keep an eye on them? You know, they give tours for potential students?" she suggests with an earnest lift of brows. "You could come see for yourself if you're interested in applying. We have some interesting extracurriculars," she allows after some thought -- with a crooked smile to Marinov, "but I /don't/ think any of them are as interesting as terrorism." Marinov sits back up, their ears at alert when Ace makes their offer. “Sounds pretty fucking cloak and dagger, yeah. I’m not big on blindly trusting authority or whatever, either, but I gotta say that I’m also pretty skeptical of offers from people wanting me to dig up dirt.” They glance towards Nessie a moment and shrug a somewhat tense shoulder, “Not that it’s an offer I ever heard before, so that leaves me wondering what would be in it for me?” They pause a moment, expression thoughtful. Lightly, Marinov adds, “And yeah, you could always like… book a tour. Do some investigative journalism. Which is also an extra-curricular: school newspaper.” "I probably will go on a tour, now," Cherie says, regaining some of her previous chipper air. "I was just too anxious to do that, before." Though here she glances at Ace, evidently still a bit anxious. Or maybe embarrassed? No blush shows on her translucent cheeks, though. "I didn't /really/ ever think they taught /terrorism/, and if they did I might not mind so much as long as it was an /elective/." "It's worth a shot," Ace allows, "but tours only show you what they want you to see -- aaaaand now /I/ sound like a conspiracy wonk." Their self-deprecating chuckle sounds genuine, anyhow. "It's a reasonable skepticism! And I guess this /is/ a kind of investigative journalism. We're not out to /take Xavier's down/, but I've found it pays to be suspicious of organizations that claim they wanna help us, you know? Especially for free. In this case, I just mean it a bit more literally -- I would give you actual cash for, as you put it, /dirt/. It doesn't have to be super sinister, but I don't mean like, if one of your counselors prefers Chicago style pizza or whatever. Just evidence of exploitative or secretive activities." Nessie's eyebrows raise at the mention of taking Xavier's down. "-- I hadn't even considered you were /before/, but /now/..." She sucks in her cheeks, shakes her head, quickly moves on to a lighter: "Chicago style pizza is /way/ suspicious, though, wouldn't you want to know if --" Here she breaks off with a perk, a small uplift-bounce on her stilty legs (though she quickly returns to a lower crouch) as their waiter arrives with food. "... I mean, I don't know if I could trust someone after /that/. But," she carries on cheerfully, "if you do come for a tour it'll be a student who gives you /most/ of it anyway, so you can ask them things without teachers around. I don't think /I'd/ be really good at spying anyway, even at school I'm pretty, um." Her tail swishes once, twice. "Stand-out-y." Marinov's ears perk when the food arrives and sits up a little bit straighter, tail slapping against the surface of the booth seat. "You might sound kinda paranoid, but it's not really paranoia if everyone's really out to get you, yeah?" They nod towards Nessie when she calls herself 'stand-out-y'. "Yeah, you don't have my camouflage fur pattern, which helps me blend in totally undetected wherever I go. That's my superpower." They brush a hand lightly across their forehead, slitted eyes turning towards Ace. "I mean... I'll keep an eye out, I guess. I've been there for years, and everything's seemed pretty above board to me on the average, but like, if I see something real bad going down? Sure as shit I'm going to do or say something. I just don't know if my recourse'd be, like, selling intel or whatever." They shrug and jab at their sausage with their fork. "But yeah. Gotta be skeptical, folks don't do favours without expecting something back." Ace shrugs, evidently unconcerned. "That's also fair enough, so suit yourselves." They brighten up again at the arrival of fresh curly fries. "Y'all are welcome to my fries all the same -- and that /is/ without expecting anything back." Cherie nods vigorously, mouth being already engaged with straw as she begins to attack her rootbeer float. When she finally stops for breath and has swallowed, she adds, "I'll definitely talk to other students, whether or not we do the tour, but I'm /glad/ it seems like actually a decent place. I mean..." Her face seems mostly opaque again, if only briefly. "It'd be nice to have a decent place."