ArchivedLogs:Teenage Politics

Teenage Politics
Dramatis Personae Kai, Peter, Shane
In Absentia	2013-05-31 it is not a highschool dance without someone bringing the awkward.
Location <XS> Great Hall
The largest room at Xavier's, the Great Hall is designed to hold all of the mansion's residents and then some. Built for the mansion's bigger functions, it serves as the school's dining halls on ordinary days, and ballroom when needed. On school days, long trestle tables stretch across the hall, high-backed chairs with plush cushions offering seating for the students. Today the Great Hall has been transformed. Gone are its usual lengthy tables for serving meals. Instead, round tables ring two sides of the room; their white tablecloths are accented in ribbons of black and blue. Along one side the tables stand empty, just a place to rest and chat in between dancing; along the adjacent side, they are heavy-laden with snacks, as well as bowls of punch and iced tea and lemonade, water and chilled sodas. The DJ's booth stands in back, taking requests so long as they are not TOO risque. The dancefloor commanding most of the center of the room gleams in polished wood underfoot. Above, the large chandelier that normally hangs forgotten during the busy school days shines in its full glittering splendor; smaller fluted lamps hang dotted in satellite-orbit around the rest of the ceiling. Where many high school dances might have decorated with streamers, Xavier's has decorated with /light/, spiraling ribbons of it that drift down in muted-soft glow from the chandelier to wreath the moulding and glimmer more subtly down the walls. For those paying attention, the accenting ribbons of light are not /steady/ in their patterns; sometimes just a gentle spiral, sometimes a tracery of vinework with leaves and flowers, someimes a web of delicate filigree that glitters against the walls. THE DANCE. Is, well. The dance. Shane has, at some point, arrived with what is probably an /entourage/. If dances are a competition and you score the players by how many dates they bring, Shane is winning. Shane is winning /so/ hard. Among those dates is Peter. Dressed -- well, rather stiffly. White short-sleeved shirt with buttons. Black clip-on tie. Dress-slacks, dark gray. Two-toed black socks. And chitin -- the gleaming carapace shines underneath the light of the dance hall, reflecting off his currently-violet tinted face. Peter has never actually /been/ to a dance. He's never even gone on a date (nevermind a date that consists of however many number of people Shane has managed to acquire). The whole process is simultaneously baffling and, uh, a little embarrassing. But he's /smiling/, at least -- particularly when he's interacting with any one of his friends. He /does/ look a bit rigid, though. At some point, Peter just slips up behind Shane, maybe while he's SPIKING THE PUNCH-BOWL (is he going to do that? Shane might do that. Or maybe Shelby), hands thrust in his pockets, and comments, all quiet-like: "...so-- what do you /do/ at these things? I mean --" He looks over the crowd of assorted students, still violet. /Maybe/ Shane is not the best person to ask this question of. Having catched them ALL, Shane has come to the dance dressed as a Pokemon trainer. OK lies. Blatant fabrications. He is in a suit. Crisp white with peak lapels over a black dress shirt, black oxfords polished to a shine. No tie, although his cufflinks are /shaped/ like little silver bowties. He is probably not spiking the punch himself although he /might/ have cajoled Lien into doing it, a slim short girl a year his senior who is rarely seen around school owing to -- well, being rarely /seen/, spending the majority of her time invisible. But good for spiking punches. She might be in his stable-of-dates too but if she is nobody else knows! Possibly Taylor knows, /thoughts/ are harder to hide from telepathic senses. Shane is, though, /at/ the punch bowl, and though he's been getting himself a drink he offers it to Peter when Peter arrives, together with a bright smile. "Oh, uh, shit, you -- dance," and with this information he's offering Peter his arm, punch be damned. "May I?" His black eyes are sweeping over Peter, lingering longer on violet-tinted face than on the rest of his attire. "... other things than dance, too," he adds, and for once doesn't follow it up with anything horrible: "Talk. Eat snacks. Flit around under the glittery lights looking gorgeous. You've got that /last/ part down already, at least." OK, nothing /too/ horrible. Look! By the table! It is a Kai. He seems as confused by the trappings of the dance as Peter. Maybe more so. Not as spiffily dressed as most of the other dance-goers, he is still neatly clad in crisp-looking khakis and a solid green button up shirt neatly tucked in. His spiky hair has been product-infused and slicked back into a sharp almost-pompadour. On his feet are a pair of black dress shoes so new they actually squeak when he moves. Which isn't much, honestly. When Peter and Shane appear, he offers a small smile and a shy wave. "Hello, Peter," probably isn't loud enough to be heard over the music. Neither is "Hello, Shane." Mingling is important at dances, right? Violet turns a shade darker as Peter listens to Shane; he might /also/ be glancing over Shane's spiffy duds -- down and back up, with that violet slipping over to a hint of deepening indigo when Shane offers him his arm. Veeeeery tentatively, Peter takes it, curling his own arm around it; at the mention of the 'g-word', Peter /dives/ straight into indigo. "I really, uh," Peter begins, as if searching for the appropriate response, "your clothes are really, awesome. Snappy. Um. You look -- great." PEER AT FEET. Peter doesn't quite /hear/ Kai, but he does see him -- the shy wave drags his attention away from his own toes toward the boy at the end of the table. Peter's indigo shade shows no sign of dimming; he raises his own arm to give him a quick wave -- then a look to Shane, a brief flash of concern on his face. The arm he's so tentatively entangled in Shane's gives a /squeeeeze/, before mumbling softly: "...are you okay with -- I mean. Uh." Peter briefly short-circuits, not exactly sure what to say. Shane passes his cup off to the nearest available person when Peter takes his arm. PROBABLY TAYLOR he always has a free limb. His hand shifts to rest over Peter's, and his smile brightens. "Thanks! You know, OK, I get that everyone thinks school dances are kind of cheesy and maybe they kind of /are/ except -- it's sort of /nice/, you know? Everyone doesn't get all prettied up often. It's like --" His hand lifts again to sweep out around the room. "-- I /guess/ like art except instead of a boring art show it's your friends and you can talk to them. /Or/," and this is crucially important! "dance with them!" Which he is perhaps in the process of whisking Peter off to /do/ when that voice comes -- it's preeeeeetty likely he'd already noticed Kai standing there and just neglected to greet him. But his keen hearing picks his name up easily music or no music, and reflexively his hand drops back to rest fingers over Peter's. It's a light touch, soft, and it lingers frozen for just a beat too long before Shane turns. "-- Yo." Kai even gets a smile. It's extraordinarily toothy, but most of his smiles are. That he's been heard seems to surprise Kai, and he blinks when people actually notice him. If that was the response he was hoping for, it doesn't show. At Shane's toothy smile, he shrinks back the tiniest bit, his eyes dropping to the entwined arms and the light press of hands. Something actually /hardens/ in Kai's face, then, but he forces a smile, yellow light zigging around the edges of his irises. "This seems to be a very good dance," he offers gamely. "It is the first one I have ever been to. But it seems very..." He looks up at the decorations, and then at the gaily-dressed students. "...very grand. I do not know what is being celebrated, but everyone seems to be having a lot of fun." Everyone else, that is. Kai's eyes, dark and confused, don't line up with his smile or his sentiment. "Yeah, it's -- kinda nice to see, everybody dressed up, I guess," Peter admits, and there's a certain cautious sincerity to this statement, as if it were the first time he had thought it might be true. When Shane's touch lingers, Peter pauses; when Shane begins to move away to greet Kai, he slinks his hand over to grip and squeeze. As if to say, NOPE NOT GETTING AWAY. "S'just, I guess, celebrating -- um, end of the school term?" Peter offers, thinking. "I dunno, actually. I mean, I've never been big into dances, but, it's... kinda nice," he says, with a trace of wistfulness, eyes lingering on the gleaming ribbons that hang from the walls -- glowing, their patterns changing. "Actually," he admits, partially to Kai, partially to Shane, "now I feel kind of /underdressed/." "Really? I mean, I think you look great -- well, we /could/ get you a real tie," Shane muses, "but /you/ gleam -- maybe you just carry your glam /with/ you all the time. /But/ if you want /more/ glam --" This trails off contemplatively. He doesn't move far. Just turns to face Kai and then he is content to linger at Peter's side, hand resting more firmly down against Peter's. His fingers play lightly against the backs of Peter's knuckles. "Celebrated? Eh. Sometimes you just need some fun. Stop working. Stop stressing. Hang out and /enjoy/ each other." There's the slightest shift of his head on that one word, gaze drifting towards Peter for a moment. "I think you look very nice," Kai offers gently to Peter, pink working across the bridge of his nose. "Very handsome. /I/ am probably dressed incorrectly," he adds, gesturing at his clothes. "Not like most people here." The look he turns on Shane at this statement starts as genuinely admiring, his black (and still weirdly yellow-edged) gaze taking in the older boy's outfit carefully. But, when his eyes land on those clenched hands again, there's another tightening at his jaw, and the expression he turns on Peter is equal parts question and confusion, with a liberal sprinkling of accusation. "Everyone seems to be celebrating well," he says slowly and carefully. "I imagine everyone will have a very good time." He says this in much the same way he would say 'everyone will get violently ill.' "Sophie is giving a party after," he offers, chewing on his lower lip. "Are you going to that?" "I, uh. Don't actually know h--" Peter looks down at his clip-on, a hand moving to self-consciously give it a tug, adjusting it, even as his other hand rises up against Shane's fingertips. "--/how/ to tie a tie," he finally confesses, flustered and with a hesitant smile. "Man the last time I even wore one was like, when I was 12, I think? Somebody's wedding." Shane's mention of just hanging out and enjoying each other prompts Peter to scoot a little closer, though the gesture is subtle. Kai's mention of his wardrobe -- gets a meek little grin out of him. "Naw, you're just wearing what I'm wearing minus a clip-on," Peter announces -- before adding: "I mean, uh. The colors are different." Peter really is clueless when it comes to fashion. "Party -- after? Uh. Oh, I didn't -- maybe? I--" he looks to Shane, as if. This is /his/ specialty. "--dunno." Shane's fingers continue playing against Peter's knuckles, and his other hand lifts to adjust Peter's /adjustment/ to his tie. And then his collar. "Really? I mean, I'll totally teach you. It's easy once you learn." He looks over Kai, giving a small shrug. "You look fine," he assures the other boy, with a small quirk of smile: "Green suits you." His brow furrows at the mention of Sophieparty. "Mmm. Heard something about -- I dunno, though, /we/ were gonna commandeer the lakehouse and party it up out there. -- You not having a good time?" He looks at Kai, eyebrows lifting. Kai's face is a flat mask, his eyes almost totally yellow as he watches these tiny displays of affection. Compliments are lost as he tilts his head a bit to regard the pair intently. "I am sure wherever you go, you will find a way to have fun." His tone matches his carefully neutral expression. Well, almost neutral. There's a flicker of something dark and angry through his features. Then he's lifting thin shoulders in a shrug. "I am uncomfortable," he says in that same neutral tone. "I do not know this sort of thing, and all of my friends are here with..." he pauses to give Shane a long, studious look. "...other people. As dates." Another shrug. "I do not have a date. Maybe it will be different when I do." When Shane adjusts Peter's tie and collar, his head crooks back, as if to give him room; it's clear, though, he's having to resist the urge to move his hand up and re-adjust Shane's /re-adjustment/; not because he got it wrong, but because. ADJUST, ADJUST. He manages to keep his hand down, though. "I'd like that," Peter mumbles, "I think, I mean... to learn how to--yeah. I always liked -- bowties," he admits, a little /lower/, like this was some dirty secret. Peter tenses just a /smidge/ at that flicker of Kai's features. "Man Shane uh, kind of brought half the /school/ as a date I mean, I don't think--" His eyes shift back to Shane, then back to Kai. "--I mean, it sucks if you're -- uncomfortable. But, I mean. You don't have to be -- I think there's people who didn't come here with anyone? I, uh. I dunno. I'm -- this is kind of new for me," he says, before glancing to Shane /again/, this time with a smidge of desperation in his eyes. Like, 'HELP ME OUT HERE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING/SAYING'. "I have so many freaking bowties," Shane doesn't admit this guiltily, he admits this /brightly/ cheerful. "I will make you the dapperest." This is punctuated with a small squeeze of Peter's hand, and then he looks back over to Kai, head tilting to the side. His bright-cheerful smile doesn't fade. "Yeah, hey, there's like a bajillion people here who didn't come with dates, but, if, uh, I mean is that bothering you? Do you want a date?" His smile curls wider. He reaches out hand out to the side to SNAG himself a nearby Daiki -- YOINK -- dragging the other teen closer by a shirtsleeve. Daiki does not actually look /surprised/ by this development but then. He has known Shane quite a while. He is remarkably complacent as Shane unpins his boutonniere, offering it to Kai. "You can be my date," he tells Kai cheerfully. Kai looks as if he might grind through his lower jaw, although his face remains carefully neutral as he stares at the other two boys. First at Peter and his...tie adjusting, then at Shane when he chimes in. The offered boutonniere gets an actual /glare/ before Kai tilts his head sharply. His eyes have no black in them, now, save for the pupils. Slowly he extends a hand and takes the flower. Then he hands it back to Daiki, pinkening just a bit as he does. "I do not wish a date with /him/," he says to Shane, then, in a frosty sort of tone. "But it is nice that you offered." It doesn't sound like he thinks it was /that/ nice. At all. Then Kai turns, and without warning lets a kick FLY at Peter's shin. "Peter, you /suck/," he hisses, echoing words from an earlier time. Only this time, Kai sounds seriously pissed. As soon as he's done that, he's turning to scurry away, already pushing his hands to his face. His ears are FLAMING red. When Shane seizes hold of a passing Daiki, Peter's eyebrows quirk up; when Shane proceeds to offer a Daiki to Kai -- and even moves to unpin his boutonniere! -- Peter brightens. But when Kai responds with jaw-grinding and a glare at the boutonniere, the brightness flutters and semi-dims. Peter's danger-sense warns him of incoming danger, but the fact is -- a kick to the shins /isn't/ really all that dangerous. /Painful/, sure! But the blip it makes on Peter's 'Danger-Dar' is -- well, he's been ears-deep in danger a few times now, so that blip barely registers. By the time it does, Kai's foot has made contact, and -- "Ow. Ow!" Peter repeats, as if only just realizing that this hurts -- snapping his shin up to catch it in his hand, kind of -- balancing on one foot for a second, maybe giving a hop. The hand on Shane's tightens around his wrist as Peter teeters, now pulling on it to help him keep his balance. "/Ow/," Peter says again, brows crumpling as he rubs at his shin. "What--" His other hand darts away from his shin, letting his foot whump back to the floor, reaching for Shane's other hand -- as if worried he might /pursue/ Kai. But, uh, probably not. "--was. He kicked my shin. Why did he -- I don't." Peter turns at Shane, his expression one of sheer bafflement: "/Shane/ what the heck did I do I don't understand why did he kick my shin?!" Peter just, well, ASSUMES Shane must know the answer, because. /He's/ been to dances before. Maybe this is part of the ritual. SHIN-KICKING. Shane doesn't show any intention of pursuing Kai; he looks a little baffled, too, and his attention is focused on curling an arm around Peter, supporting him in his teetering. "I -- don't know," he admits, watching Kai storm off with not a small amount of confusion. "I mean he seemed sad about having no date I just figured like. All my dates have /all/ the dates that's like /twenty/ times the fun right?" His arm squeezes Peter a /little/ tighter, though it's hard to tell this time whose support it is for. His head turns, pressing a kiss to Peter's temple. "I think it was because of me and not you, though." He only lets Peter go when he is back on both feet, and when he tugs his hand away from Peter's it is only so that he can pin Daiki's boutonniere back onto him. Also with a kiss! "I think," Daiki says, folding his hands behind his back through this process and looking at Peter rather than Shane, "that that was jealousy." His brow creases, slightly. "-- And a decided lack of control. I should speak with his advisor." "Jealousy?" This just makes Shane look /even more/ baffled. "-- but he could have been everyone's date, too." This just earns a small smile from Daiki. A forehead-kiss in return. "Go," he says, lightly, nudging Shane towards Peter. "Dance with your date." Kai is...gone. Just /gone/. The keen observer will see him pause at the door to lower his hands from his face and GLARE in Peter's direction again. Or maybe it's for Shane. It's hard to tell since they're so close together. Maybe it's for both of them. Then he's fleeing for real, disappearing into the mansion.