ArchivedLogs:Battleship and Friendship

Battleship and Friendship
Dramatis Personae Dorian Siccavil, Kelly	2013-11-22 Thoughts of the past, and a friendship for the future.
Location <XS> Rec Room - FL2
School this may be, but life for Xavier's students certainly isn't all studying. Outside classes, this is a popular spot to find students in their downtime. An enormous tribute to slacking off, this room is a wealth of fun and relaxation. Comfortable armchairs, couches, and beanbags offer plentiful seating scattered throughout the room, and the cushioned windowseats by the high windows offer a cozy nook to curl up and look out on the grounds. The room is often filled with the noises of gaming -- whether it comes from the big-screen television (tall racks of DVDs beside it, if nothing can be found on the multitude of cable channels), tricked out with consoles from retro to the latest releases, or the less electronic clatter and thump of the pool table, air hockey, or foosball. For those a little more subdued in their gaming, the cabinets hold stacks and stacks of board and card games, ranging as classic as chess and go to as esoteric as Dixit, Catan, and Gloom. The school has been quietly abuzz since the announcements went out yesterday, informing the residents of the school that a cure for the disease plaguing the region had been found, and would be administered in the medical lab. The Rec Room is somewhat empty after classes have concluded for the day, just before the dinner shifts are set to begin, with many of the students heading for the med lab for their next round of medication to clear up the illness. A movie plays quietly in the background, largely ignored by one of the only occupants of the room - some sort of action film with plenty of explosions and giant robots. Dorian is sitting on one of the chairs at the small card table, hunched over a notebook in concentration, a pen held awkwardly in his right hand as he gnaws on the cap. He seems to have opted for his minimal attire again, with a pair of gray sweatpants that let his tail hang out behind him, and a very loose bluetank top that seems to be failing to cover up much of his leanly muscled chest and shoulders, or the pelt of dark fur on his back - the fine tawny fur on his chest is quite visible right now, too. He ruffles his mop of hair up with a heavy sigh as he looks at the largely blank page, chewing harder on the pen as he does. His ears are perked forward in concentration, his entire mind apparently focused on this one page, tuning out the kid on the sofa watching the loud-explodey movie. "If its math or biology I might be able to help. But if it' something all English-y or stuff, you're on your own." Kelly jokes when he comes in, his face bright with energy and for once full featured without any bags under his eyes. His clothes hang loose on him, but his stomach isn't rumbling, and all of his leaves are vibrant and green, and his pink flowers are traced with deeper reds on their edges. Wearing a set of shorts and his cut-up custom fit T-Shirt, a lot of his bark is showing, and there are odd green touches to his skin if viewed at /just/ the right angle. He walks over to look out one of the windows near Dorian and says cheerfully: "I think this is the only day I've been /glad/ the halls are empty since I got here. I mean, since everyone is downstairs and all." Dorian perks up at the sound of another student entering the Rec room, the gnawed upon pen hanging from his teeth as he regards Kelly curiously. He offers a cheery wave, finally setting aside the pen and notebook so he isn't just gnawing right through the cap to the inkwell. "It's kinda English, maybe. Was trying to figure out how to write stuff to my parents, but it's actually really kinda hard. I haven't seen or heard from them in a decade. So I have /no/ clue what to say," Dorian explains with a glance at the blank paper, "And no, telling the truth isn't actually an option in this case. It'd break 'em up something fierce." He shakes his head and grins, "Yeah - people actually seem kinda hopeful now, which is nice. I ended up getting outta one bad situation and then this all happened, and it's been kinda constant, but seeing people actually be hopeful that it'll get better is nice." Dorian seems to babble, and rarely draw breath as he does. "Oh man, that's... that's kinda a tough one, it'n it." Kelly managed to say as he slowly turned around and leaned against the window sill. "Hey Mom and Dad, I can't tell you I'm in a secret school for kids who shoot laser beams out'a their toes, but how's spot doing?" and while the joke comes out with some mirth in it, the undertone of sympathetic frustration kinda kills the delivery. "But I mean, you're alive and stuff right now... and that's sort'a amazing." He points out, and then asks: "What... what is it you're hoping for? A big reunion and stuff, going back home again?" Flopping back into the chair, Dorian shakes his head, "Not even the school part. More the fact that they signed me over to be tortured and experimented on when they tried to help me last? I mean... I don't think they knew any better." He ruffles his hair, scratching at the little metal tag pierced through his ear idly, the scarring on his forearms visible in the light from the window. "I want to let them know I'm ok, but how do I explain where I've been? I mean... I was 10 when I saw them. I want to know that they're ok, that Maggy is ok, and that she got to go to school and make something of herself," he says, resting his head in his hands as he looks at Kelly, continuing in the same drawn out breath, "My god, she'd... she'd be almost out of college now if she got to go." He takes a deep breath, a very deep breath, and forces himself to stop, "Sss..." he resists saying the word, and signs it instead, sighing, "Didn't mean to sort of 'splode like that. Shouldn't do that. It's just... yeah. I don't know what I want. I want to have a family again. But I know that knowing what I went through will just hurt them worse, and I want to hide and let them think I'm dead." Dorian's ears flatten against his head, vanishing into his hair as he talks, but then he tilts his head and looks at Kelly, "Wanna play a board game or something? Or there's video games, too, which are kinda neat, but I'm kinda bad at them really, but I'll play if you want to play." He offers a shrug of his furred shoulders and a smile: it is as though a switch has been flipped, and the previous conversation forced out of mind. "Alright, uhm, what do we got?" Kelly says, letting the conversation rest for a minute, as he went over to look at the options. "Chess is... my brain can not play chess right now." Kelly comments with a chuckle, and then moves through a few other options. "Monopoly is really boring with just two people, and... I hate counting all the money all the time. What about... Battleship?" he offers, lugging out the two plastic boards. Putting the rest of the games in an overly neat stack, Kelly even makes a point of shifting a few boxes around so that things are /just so./ Bigger games at the bottom, smaller on top. All the titles pointed the same way "Well, how would you feel if your sister was dead?" He asks, "Maggy, is your sister, right? I mean, if that's what you found out, how would you feel?" Dorian perks up at the mention of the games, and nods, "I like Battleship. It's fun. It was one of the only games that had all the pieces that we could play in the labs sometimes. I've never been good at chess, they had tha too, but no one was ever able to really teach me how to play enough of it at once, it was all in pieces and stuff." He frowns momentarily, but then starts helping get the game set up, starting to get things set up for the boards, tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration. The question gets a confused look, and he shakes his head, focusing on placing his game pieces aroudn. "I... yes. Maggy is my big sister," he says quietly after a long moment, "I'd be sad. But... mmm..." He hesitates for a minute, muddling through what to say, "What if they don't want me back? How'm I supposed to deal with that, if they don't want me again? What if they really did know what they were doing when they sent me away? I'd... I have an ideal in my head. Of what they were like, what they are like. It's old, but... what if that's not how they are?" "They probably are going to be different. Maybe a little, maybe a bunch." Kelly answered, setting up his own board, and having to sort out the white pegs from the red ones. He even goes so far as to make sure they are all set neatly in their tray, facing the same direction. Like little molded torpedoes waiting to be loaded into the queue. "I like chess, but only when I'm up for it. Too much thinking." He says as his little boats begin to make their way in their polymer clear sea. The floral captain arranging them in a logical attack formation, each facing the same direction - sides turned to their opponent for optimal battery! "Well, your parents loved ya, right? And your sis, too? I mean, they didn't hate you or anything, did they?" Kelly's tone was a bit more curious than that question should be, as if hating was an option of equal opportunity. Dorian shrugs, arranging his battle ships on the board slowly, decidedly less methodical and intentional about it than Kelly had been. His game area seems to be rather choatic and random, much like the fuzzy young man himself - the pegs are tossed into their holding pen, and he glances over his handywork again, running his fingertips over the tiny little plastic ships in their formation. A frown creases his features and he reaches a hand up to tug gently at the silver tag on his ear, a nervous fidget, it would seem. "I... I think they did. When I was little - part of my mutation... it kinda made people protective and willing to help and play with me. Distracting and all that. Even when I was little," he shrugs, eyeing the grid in front of him. "I dunno if they loved me because they loved me. Or because I... I had pheromones?" he shrugs. He wrinkles his nose at the concern of being hated, looking curiously at Kelly, "Hate? I... I dunno." There's another look down to the grid, then back at Kelly, "You go first or me?" "I'll go first." Kelly says and then biting his own lip, announces speculatively: "C3" He leans back heavily in his chair, stretching his arms out and letting his vines spread out above him as he does, a ripple going through them like they were getting out sore muscles as well. When they rustle back into their normal wiggly formation, he relaxes. "Well, you never 'don't know' if they hated ya. I mean, its pretty obvious when they do." There is a confident, but darker undertone to his words there. "I guess your Phere- Phera... pheromones? I guess that could make things a little muddy, but... I mean, if they liked you then, no matter why, they probably still like you. And more importantly, if you /know/ they wanted to protect you, then they couldn't have sent you there for any bad reasons, could they?" After squinting down at the board again, he shakes his head and answers, "Miss." He watches the movements of the wiggling vines with aprehension, leaning his elbows on the table to stare at the board again, before chirping, "A2?" He pokes through the pegs on his waiting bin, idly answering, "Oh, they could have. Plenty of parents did. I talked to everyone. They put me with lots of people, I talked to lots of people. Plenty of parents sent their kids away, willingly." He sighs, fidgetting with the scars on the inside of his fingers, "It happened. Happens." He frowns, asking curiously, his ears twitching, "You never 'don't know'?" "When you're a disappointment, when they really do hate you... you know." Kelly answers frowning down, answering soon after words with a "Miss." Putting down another white peg of his own. "C8?" When he catches the look at his vines, he becomes a bit self conscious and pulls his arms together, forcing his vines to go under the table out of sight, and his mood dips a little. "I mean, they'll always be tired of dealing with you, yell at you a whole lot... or... worse." When he says worse, he rubs his own arm, just above the vine line. "I mean, think about it. They have to spend their whole lives taking care of us, and like... it can't be cheap taking care of a kid, right? I bet its like... a hundred dollars a month or something." Having absolutely NO idea on the value of money... "And like... you're going to spend a lot of time with them, and you'll know them like, as good as you know your friends and stuff. So its probably hard to hide something like that. I couldn't." Dorian shudders, rubbing at the fur on his arms, shaking his head, "Oh, no. I've felt the disappointment. I have. Not from my parents. In the labs. When I did something wrong. They made me know it. The men with the masks and coats. They put me in a room on my own, alone, with no one to talk to. And other stuff. Like... now. I've got my room, and it's just mine, and... I don't know what I did wrong." He takes a deep breath, just realizing he'd made Kelly feel bad about the vines, and shakes his head emphatically, looking at the other boy with a nervous expression. "Oh, no, I'm... I'm..." he stops himself, and signs 'sorry' forcefully, eyes wide in a mild panic, as he continues to babble, in one continuous breath, "I, um, it isn't you. You're nice, and friendly, and willing to play. I just, have... bad memories? From... from before. It's just, there... there was a time. With, someone who had, had tendrils? it's how my hands got ruined. The webbing was there once, but then the whips, and it was like fire, and they had to take them because they couldn't fix it. Too delicate, not worth it. I'm sorr..." he chokes his words off, and shakes his head. His hands fidget on the table, harsh scars from past wounds visible on the backs, snaking up around his wrist and forearms, innterrupted with finer, silvery, surgical scars along each finger. He falls silent, shoulders slumped, ears flattened and vanished into his hair, and slowly signs 'sorry' again, "I... I screwed up. I can go back to my room now, I didn't mean to..." Kelly pulls his arms down even lower, and there is a rustling noise as his vines curl and knott together. "It's... its ok." He says at first, but as he listens to the explanation, he nods his head and starts to understand. Growing smaller and smaller in his chair. "No, I understand how... that can happen. I'm..." he signs 'Sorry', himself, "But you shouldn't have to leave. I can leave if you want... but I promise I'll never hurt ya." Not intentionally at least. "But... I know it isn't the same as what you went through. But..." he offers, trying to help Dorien understand he did know... "My dad was... well, he hated me, I know it. Cause, well... it wasn't cause of this, it hadn't happened yet, it was something else..." With a deep breath. "So, he'd hit me a bunch when he was mad, and one time he even broke my arm..." One hand sneaks up, trying his best to keep his vines hidden... but not entirely successful, an he pats his arm where it was broken. "He made me tell everyone I wrecked on my bike. I... I still don't like it when adults touch me. And... I think I made some of the teachers here, like Mr. Aloke... sad 'cause of it. I know it isn't the same, or... anywhere close to what you went through. But... its ok." With a deep breath, he offers: "You didn't do anything wrong, I hate 'em, too, to be honest. But if you would like, I can take off?" Dorian shakes his head again, emphatically, at the repeated offers to leave, his voice pleading, "No, please don't leave. Please." As Kelly continues to talk Dorian listens intently, his eyes wide, and his expression earnest - he gives the impression that listening is just part of what he does, nodding along quietly. When Kelly finishes his story, Dorian nods, and signs 'sorry', not quite knowing how else to respond. "Everyone gets to places differently. I didn't go through what you did, either, but that sounds horrible," Dorian says very quietly, looking at Kelly, "I didn't mean to just... dump all that on you. That was... wrong. I... I trust you. I know you wouldn't hurt me." He signs 'sorry' once again, looking truly remorseful. His ears prick forward at the mention of 'hate' and he shakes his head again, "No. No, I don't hate them. Or you. I wouldn't hurt you." There's an honestness to his voice as he speaks, but after a long pause, and a deep breath, Dorian extends his hand out across the table, palm up, as a sort of peace-offering, "Friends?" "Its ok, sometimes ya gotta dump." Kelly replies as his own mood starts to perk back up again. He lets his hand come out (careful to wrap all his vines around his arm so that they wont squirm, and the sweat on his face is a hint that this is /incredibly/ hard for him as they almost have a mind of their own) to take Dorian's. "Friends." He agrees. "And... hey, you don't need to spend all the time by yourself here. Being alone is kinda what I've gotten used to but... anytime you wanna hang, just knock on my door." Then thinking "And until you get a roomie, you'll have a spare bunk, so just let me know if you want me to bunk over, I'm sure that the teachers won't mind considering everything that's going on." But then he looks back down to his board and says: "So c'mon, C8? Did I hit?" Dorian smiles happily when Kelly takes his hand, "Friends." He actually bounces in his chair a little bit when Kelly mentions being able to bunk over, grinning, "I think I'd like that. I... don't like being alone. It makes me worry." The question about the battleship makes the otter-boy glance down at his board, tilting his head slightly, "Nope. Miss." He puts in a little white peg to mark it, and grins. "D5?" he asks, mind focusing back on the game, away from the past and remembered fears.