ArchivedLogs:Distractions

Distractions
Dramatis Personae Sebastian, Shelby	2013-02-21 Never, ever steal a nerd's trig textbook.
Location Xavier's School
A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks. It's generally kept clean /enough/, though there's odds and ends that tend to make an appearance -- a violin frequently lives by one bed, a guitar by another. One of the desks carries a large assortment of books (tidily stacked) at any given time, as well as a large assortment of clean white bones, often in the process of being rearranged into some sculpture or other. The other usually just has a laptop. The closets are starkly different, one neat and tidy with a carefully sorted arrangement of vests, trousers, button-downs, neat-polished shoes; the other spills over with a bright-coloured confection of attire that ranges from glam to punk and has a healthy sprinkling of skirts and dresses mixed in. There's artwork on the walls, a handful of paintings in the same whimsically surreal style. Classes have finished for the day, though for all students that doesn't mean an end to working. There's sports practices going on many places and after-school activities in others. The twins' dorm has been occupied, recently, not just by Sebastian but by a skinny freshman boy struggling with his math work; the boy's only recently left his tutoring session, leaving Sebastian alone with a stack of books of his own. Notebooks. Laptop. He has his trig book open, a notebook beside it full of figures and notes, but currently his attention is fixed on the computer. Chrome has a multitude of tabs open, but the one he's looking at is a forum, free republic, the current thread about whether New York's ticketing ordinance goes far /enough/ and how mutant registration might be best introduced into the law. Sebastian is scowling. Not at the words, so much, but at an embedded video of Central Park. Quills shooting, shields shielding. Eric ticketing Jax. One hand is on the mouse as his other squeezes a mechanical pencil tight. Being left to one's own devices is a rare thing in a dorm setting. It probably comes as no surprise that there's a rap of knuckles against the door--though given Sebastian's current focus, it might be worth a startle. Shelby pokes her head in before there's time to respond to the knock. She's recently had her hair trimmed and in addition to the freckles, her face is decorated with a black teardrop beneath her right eye. It may or may not be meant to represent the prison signal that she's killed a man. "Hey, B? There you are...hey, can I come in?" Once she's asked, and again before he can answer, she does just that. There's a backpack slung over her shoulder but it is light in the book department; it's flat enough to make it uncertain whether it holds anything at all. "You okay?" Sebastian does startle, a quick tense of shoulders, a brief flare of gills, a slight jump in his chair. He hits minimize on his browser window reactively, spinning his chair around to face Shelby afterwards. "Oh -- oh, hi," he says, with a quicker smile and a lot less startlement. "Yeah, sure," is kind of after-the-fact, considering Shelby's already in. "I'm -- yeah, I mean, exams coming up, it's a lot of studying. I've been trying to hunt down Shane so he doesn't fail history. It'd be /really terrible/ of me to just ask Daiki to /order/ him to sit down and study, right?" His smile is a little crooked, his tone -- joking. At least half joking. "What's up?" "Didn't you hear? Terrible's, like, the new cool. I bet Daiki'd think it was funny except he hates history too, doesn't he?" Shelby dumps the almost empty bag beside the bed before rolling herself on top of it, prone with her chin up in her hands. "I saw the news this morning, I wanted to come by," she explains. The cocksure smile hasn't changed but she /is/ studying the young man's face with the sort of focus that clashes. "All this shit going on, I figured if /anyone/ needed a break from it, it'd be you." Yes, she just lumped exams in with the trouble Jax has found himself in, and she doesn't seem repentant about it. At all. "Wanna be distracted?" "Daiki? I don't know, he studies for everything really hard." Sebastian shrugs a shoulder, tapping the eraser of his pencil rapidly against the open notebook. His expression is calm enough, though his gills are twitchy, flicking open and shut restlessly. "You know Peter ended up in the medlab. Pa's like the third person in my building to get a ticket but I don't think he's going to --" His gills flare again. He studies his open trigonometry book for a moment. "-- Distracted?" He sounds curious. "Maybe it was Taylor. So many fucking kids here." Shelby's head lowers, hands folded against the blanket and chin using her knuckles as a pillow. Her eyes drift towards the gasping fins. "You're water-breathing, B, isn't that bad for you up here?" The less than subtle nudge is followed by a grimace and a sigh that is somewhat compressed by mattress. "It's fucked up, for real. Kinda makes me glad I'm in here and not out there, 'cause it was only a matter of time...but then it'd be nice to be out there slapping folks upside the head and yelling at 'em for being dumb about this...oh, yeah. So like, happy thoughts. I thought maybe we could try coloring one of your sculptures, orrr we could go for a walk, orrr we could make out..." That last one comes with a grin. Shelby might be joking. "Taylor hates history," Sebastian agrees absently, "sometimes I tutor him." The reminder makes Sebastian's nose wrinkle, and slowly his gills quiet, lying flat against his neck. "It's real screwed up. You know, they gave Horus a ticket for flying? He doesn't even have normal legs I don't know how they expect him to get around. He brought the ticket home to Ryan in his beak. He was a little confused. I think Pa's going to contest the one Eric gave him." Which drags his expression still more worried, and a little /tight/ at the mention of Eric. The worry dissolves as he turns to look back at Shelby, starting, "-- A walk's nice, have you been by the --" Oh. His head dips further, a darker flush of color creeping up his neck. "Um, that -- last one was -- that wasn't for serious, right?" "Ugh," is Shelby's answer for /all of the bad/. Just that, since it does an excellent job summing up both her nausea and her uneasiness with the situation. But she is not here to help Sebastian fret. There are distractions on the table. So the teen swings herself up, feet returning to the floor as she leans back on her hands. "What? You already slept with me, making out's like going /backwards/," she non-answers. The grin is toned back though, approaching normal smile levels. "But a walk'd be nice too. What's gonna make you /not/ think about all this crap?" Sebastian's blush deepens. Furiously. "I didn't -- I mean, that was -- we didn't -- we weren't -- there was clothes and /Eric/ and /SHANE/ and we --" His teeth clamp shut. He looks back at his math. And then peeks a look up at Shelby. "I mean, that'd be --" He looks at Math once more. And then, after a long pause, "-- Did you know we've got horses here?" It's funny at first, the way he goes practically purple. Then Shelby is hit with her vestigial conscience and it leads her into ducking her head, her own face picking up a rosy glow. "Yeah," she agrees, "but you /coulda/. Man..." It could be a first but she looks at a loss for what to say next. When a glance goes towards the windows--where presumably the horses dwell--it isn't difficult to tell that her sudden spurt of interest is feigned. "Wow, horses, really? That's cool." She pauses for a beat before finding something even worse to say. "How come you haven't ever asked Rasa out?" "No, I couldn't," Sebastian says, still kind of leaning towards purple around his face. "I mean, you were high. It wouldn't have been --" He shrugs, returning to nervously tapping his pencil against his notebook. He frowns at something he sees there, abruptly, erasing one string of numbers and rewriting. "Rasa?" The question evidently surprises him, his black eyes shifting upwards with a lift of ridged brows. "I mean, I don't -- ze's not -- why would I -- we're friends." "Yes you could've," Shelby insists. "I mean, it's not I wouldn't've been in bed with you if I didn't /want/ to be. But..." Her forehead rumples, creating new and interesting patterns in her freckles. "...ze?" A brief moment of confusion before she shake has her head, dismissing it. "She likes you. I mean, I /think/ she likes you. S'why she got pissy before the dance, y'know? And she's nicer than I am. Not to /me/ but. You know, like. In general. Hey...pencil down, dude. No homework." "It's not homework, it's a study guide for --" Sebastian blushes again, maaaybe realizing this is Not The Point. "Okay, I /could/ have but it wouldn't have been /right/. I mean especially not if we've never -- um --" He puts the pencil -- not down. He sticks the eraser in between his lips. What's /left/ of the eraser, anyway, after his teeth have clearly been at it quite a bit. It's sort of a bitten-off stub, and the plastic of the pencil has a number of dents in it, too. "It's a gender-neutral pronoun," he says, with a little bit of distraction, and then, "of course ze likes me, we're friends." Shelby, who remains ignorant of that aspect of her roommate's nature, does not see her confusion relieved. "Okaaaay...no, B, I mean she /likes/ you. Ze. Whatever. Trust me, I've got like...girldar." Okay, that was funny. Her grin reappears briefly. "We /know/ things. And she...ze.../is/ nice, right? You wouldn't be friends with her if she wasn't." She pauses for a beat. "Except you're friends with me but that's...um. Different. I guess. What I'm /saying/ is...I mean, if you wanted to, like...y'know. You could. But maybe it'd be better with someone who /isn't/ me and I see you looking at that book. I'm gonna have to go over there and take it, aren't I?" She stands up to advance on the notebooks, intending to do just that. "Yeah, Rasa's nice, but I --" Sebastian bites down on his lip. "I didn't think ze -- anyway we're not -- it's not like like that. Why don't you think you're not good enough to be --" He hesitates, another flush of color darkening his skin. "I mean, not like we /are/ a -- I just mean you're -- wait is this one of those it's-not-you-it's-me things cuz we're not even dating yet so it's a little early to, I mean, I know I'm not as exciting as Shane --" /This/ comes with his hand settling down firmly atop his notebook. PROTECTIVELY. "-- Um okay I gotta stop babbling and just, uh, sorry, what conversation are we having because I'm confused." "Hey, I'm plenty good enough!" Since he's guarding the notebook, Shelby instead makes a grab for the Tome O' Trig. Yoink! The book is slammed shut--it's large enough to make a satisfying whumph--so his place is lost. Woe! "It's not even like that, B. I just think maybe you're nice enough you shouldn't be chasing some dick like me who thinks it's funny making you blush," she says as she backs away from the desk, book held to her chest--because that's the last place he'd grab, ha. "So if that's a it's-not-you talk, I guess that's the conversation. Everyone acts like we're boyfriend girlfriend anyway, I figured maybe you'd be happier with someone like Rasa." Sebastian crinkles his nose up when the heavy textbook closes, eying the cover with some dismay. His hand moves from his notebook to return his pencil to his mouth. "Shane thinks it's funny making me blush," he says, with a lopsided smile, "but he's my brother I guess he's supposed to kind of be --" He shrugs. His teeth sink harder into the plastic. His eyes are focused on Shelby's chest or, okay, on his math textbook. "I don't think I -- want to date Rasa," he says, uncertainly, "but it's okay if you don't want to go on more dates, too." He looks down at his notebook, gills slowly flaring open again. "But, I mean," he says, quieter and a little awkward-hesitant, "I still think you're pretty cool." Shelby opens her mouth--and closes it again, discarding what she'd been about to say. From the look of mild glee that quickly disappears, it was probably some smartass comment that would have erased Bastian's smile and brought a return of the blush. "Well." There is a brief silence before she rolls her shoulders, arms tensing briefly around the book. She's careful to cast her smile at the same lopsided angle as his. "I think you're pretty cool too. I mean, maybe you got questionable taste in the ladies or you got a connect the dots fetish or something, but..." She drops down on the edge of the bed again and reaches for her backpack. The trig book? It gets shoved inside. Stolen! "Hey! I /need/ that," Sebastian protests, dropping the gnawed-on pencil to swipe towards the backpack. Pretty halfheartedly, given that he doesn't even so much as roll his chair close enough to /reach/ it. "I mean, you're the only girl I've, uh," his head ducks again, his smile definitely still crooked, "You know. I don't know why that's questionable, you should be nicer to yourself. Hey, have you figured out your classes for next term yet? Are you still working on songs for the -- Ryan's -- the Bowery thing?" His words come out a little hasty, his gills back to fluttering again; it's /possible/ he is trying to change the subject. His eyes have left Shelby, looking back to the /other/ textbooks stacked on his desk. Contemplatively. Shelby uses her foot to pull the backpack a little further away. So there. "Liked, or slept with?" The question comes without thinking, encouraged by the fact that he's still smiling instead of quietly dying from embarrassment. "It doesn't, uh, bother you that I'm maybe more like Shane? That way?" When his eyes creep back to the books, she stands again to take up position behind his chair. Sterner distractions are needed, leaving Shelby to drop her arms around his neck and lean into his shoulders, as if she were looking at the textbooks too. "I have and I am, yep. They're sticking me in with the freshman for some stuff, it's total bullshit. The songs're going better though," she goes on, unwinding one arm long enough to gingerly press down on a fluttering gill. "I've never slept with anyone!" Sebastian protests, wide-eyed, and then appends an immediate, flustered, "I don't mean you're nobody I mean that /that/ wasn't -- like -- uh -- I --" Flustered, his gills are fluttering faster, which breaks up his words somewhat choppily in between occasionally shut-off breaths. Also they are probably Kind Of Scratchy where Shelby's arms drop around his neck. "Why would that bother me, I love Shane -- er, I mean not like the same way that -- just that I'm used to -- nnnnnngh." Sebastian's head drops forward to press into one hand, his elbow propped against the desk. It's a long moment before he speaks again, words directed down towards his desk. "You taking any music classes? I just study with Ryan so I haven't checked them out yet but I hear the teacher for composition's really good." His words are less choppy, here. Less flustered. The slow onset of calm is timed not with the change of subject but with the careful press against his gills, which quiet, slightly. This close, it is easy to feel the tremor that goes through Shelby, sure sign of laughter caught behind a bitten lip. She waits until she's sure his gills are going to remain unfluttered before straightening up to just rest her hands on top of his shoulders. Advantage: no abrasions. Bastian is given a little shake. "I wish I was but nah, just practicing with Ryan. I have too much make up work to do first. I did get into the class with your dad though. The art one? And I was thinking about trying out for the acapella group but I dunno if I'll have time for it, if the show takes off." He might be able to hear the way she's grinning, through voice alone. "Think maybe you could help me, once classes start up for spring? Tutor me?" Sebastian tips his head backwards against his chair, looking up at Shelby. His knee presses against the edge of his desk, absently rocking the chair in a slow sway from side to side. "Really? I've never taken his class I don't know if that'd be weird or something but Daiki took it last year and said it was great. Just, um," He blushes again, and it's almost apologetic when he asks, "Try to, um, not, give him too much of a --" He hesitates. The breath he lets out is slow, but it is followed by a quick smile. "Yeah? I mean, yeah. Sure. I'm good at that. Most of that. Not so much with languages," he admits with a slight wrinkle of his nose, "if you're taking Spanish Shane's actually a better tutor if you can get him to sit down for it. I could tutor you if you take Vietnamese," he says, his smile a little wider. Perhaps because the school doesn't offer that class. "Hard time? You think I would?" Shelby does a terrific impression of being offended--for about three seconds. "Nah, it's art and your dad's cool, I wouldn't. I wanna see if I can figure out how to draw in the air like he does, he won't teach me if I hassle him." She curls her fingers into her palm, all but the pointer finger which is used to tap the tip of his upturned nose. "I know a little Spanish but Vietnamese sounds cooler. Almost like a secret language, huh? I also got..." There's a pause while she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. The list! It is read from, in a nasal drone she supposes is teacherly. "Health and human development. Expository writing. Bioethics. Biology." Sebastian's shoulders tense up a little at that first three seconds of feigned offense, but he nods. "Some kids do, I mean, he's real young and this is the first class he's ever taught and he kinda looks like a, um. I mean skirts and everything but." He shrugs. "Vietnamese is a secret language until other people start knowing it," he adds, a little lighter, his smile wider and a note of laughter in his voice. "Shane and I speak it when we don't want other people to know what we're saying. I can /definitely/ help with biology. Health is just like, sex and stuff," with another blush, "I dunno, drugs, all kinds of -- did you know there's a whole /class/ about drugs? I read the textbook it's /really/ fascinating. The Pursuit of Euphoria. It's all about all the different ways people have figured out to get high through history. Uh. Right. Um. But writing and bio I can help with and the ethics class is actually a lot of fun." Probably... if you're a nerd. "Some of the kids are bigger dicks than I am." Shelby's expression clouds over. Who could be mean to /Jax/? "Someone tries that in front of me, I'll put them on their ass," she promises him, all valiant like. "But if you don't wanna teach me ya'll's secret language, I...whoa, seriously? They teach that in school?" Color Shelby bemused--but not bemused enough to count any of these classes as "fun". The list is wadded up again and returned to her pocket. It sounds like it rips on the way in. "Hey, turn around a sec," she goes on with a step backwards to make room for his knees. "Some of the kids aren't all that nice," Sebastian agrees. "I mean, do you /want/ to learn Vietnamese? We can teach you. I spoke it before I spoke English. And yeah. They teach it, it's pretty interesting. I might take it next year." His knee is still braced against the desk and he pushes off, after a moment, a little puzzled as he spins the chair around to face Shelby. It -- keeps spinning, back the rest of the way, given that his legs are not braced on the floor. No brakes! This just makes him grin, though, and he pushes off with a palm to keep it spinning. "Sure, it'd be cool! And hey, it's like nerd dating getting tutored by you, huh?" The way she says it makes it sound /dirty/--but amusing too. Shelby's amusement only grows when the answer to her request is a spinning shark. Instead of reaching out to stop him, she sizes up the rate of each circuit and then extends her foot. Not to hinder, but rather to catch his foot and give it a push to speed things up. "Can sharks throw up?" "If it was like nerd dating I'd be one of the most promiscuous kids in school," Sebastian answers, attempting to keep his gaze on Shelby though this proves difficult as his chair spins faster. "Ohhh yeah. Totally. Well I don't know about shark-sharks but /I/ can. Thank goodness otherwise Shane'd drink a /lot/ more." He pulls both knees up against his chest, making himself a little sharkball as his chair whirls. "OHgosh uh why was I turning around?" It's hard to tell if he sounds amused or alarmed, now. But he's smiling, even as he reaches to try and brace himself against the desk. His grabbing hand knocks a small scattering of bones from the edge of the desk to the floor. "Maybe that's how you should think of it, then. We can nerd date and then you won't hyperventilate anytime I say or do something that'd make you blush," Shelby suggests with the broadest of grins. Take now, for instance. She goes down on a knee, just before him, to reach for those bones. It /would/ be an innocent, even a helpful move, if she didn't glance up at him and give an arch look while patpatting around for fallen supplies. "I asked Shane about the kissing thing," she adds without warning--maybe giving him another opportunity to test the concept. "Ohgosh I don't /hyperventilate/ --" Although he kind of does, given that his gills are starting to flutter again and he's edging back towards purple as he steadies his chair to look down at her. Wide-eyed. "-- Wait, what? I mean. You. Um. Wait, what, were you kissing Shane?" He sounds moooostly confused here, although a little nervous, too. He's watching Shelby /very/ carefully. "B. Gills." Shelby points with a little curve of bone at his neck. "That's what I'm talking about there. Like, I can't even /hug/ you without you going all..." She mimes choking before returning to scooping up the bones. Once those within arm's reach are returned to the desk, she rests her forearms over his knees and tilts her head up to study that expression. "I did not kiss Shane," she promises, "and I don't /wanna/ kiss Shane, but I was trying to figure out how he kisses people and doesn't like...cut them. Know what he said?" Sebastian draws in a long slow breath, which slowly relaxes his gills. There's a moment when he hesitates, before caaaarefully resting his arms over hers. He studies her right back, black eyes meeting hers steadily. "What -- did he say?" he asks, cautiously. Shelby doesn't even bother trying to control her grin. Her eyes all but disappear under the force of it--though she's careful to keep her arms still. Because, sandpaper. "He said practice. It takes practice. So, if you promise not to faint...I'll give you a kiss. And then I'll give you your book back, and you can...whatever it is you were doing. Study or worry or whatever. But!" And she forces her voice into something more serious. "You have to /promise/ not to hyperventilate." "I won't hyperventilate," Sebastian answers first, but after this he is quiet, considering Shelby a long moment. "I --" he starts, slow and cautious, "I mean, I think it would be nice. To. Um." He blushes, deep. "You know. To kiss you. But I, um, I mean you just said." He lifts one arm away from Shelby's, rubbing webbed fingers at the back of his neck. "You want to kiss me but you don't want to date me, right?" He kind of sounds like he's clarifying. "No I didn't say that!" Startled, Shelby blinks at him and withdraws her freed arm. The other remains in place while she frowns and considers this turn of events, but she is leaning back slightly now. "I thought you said you thought I was cool and didn't wanna ask Rasa out, and I said I thought you were cool. C'mon, I was being totally clear. If you're gonna like...decide you want the dick..." She pauses for a beat. "I mean, not like /dick/ dick but..." "Oh -- oh." Sebastian looks startled now, too. His blush actually fades, here, as he considers this with a slightly puzzled frown. "I thought -- I didn't -- um. I think I'm not really good at -- this is all kinda new to me," he says with a slight crinkle of his nose. "I /do/ think you're cool, I just thought you --" He rubs at the back of his neck again. "Hey, I don't want the -- I think Shane gets enough of that for /both/ of us." Shelby gives his leg a squeeze. It may or may not be intended to tease. Probably "may", given her follow up. "Rule number one with chicks, you gotta learn how to read our minds, 'kay? It makes things like, /so/ much easier." It's an effort but she manages to shape her expression into something like stern. "Rule number two, when a girl says she's holding your math book hostage until you let her kiss her, you say /yes/. That might even be rule number one in the nerd handbook." "You're gonna have to talk to Hive for that," Sebastian says, his smile tentatively returning, small and crooked. Until rule #2, which makes his dark eyes widen again, and his teeth drag lightly against his lower lip. "Oh -- oh. Uh. I never, um, got a handbook --" This trails off into a nervous look, a brief flutter of gills that, at least, he quells soon after. His hand drops back to rest lightly over Shelby's and then, a moment later, he leans forward with only a brief uncertain hitch of motion to touch his lips lightly to Shelby's. It is, at least, not sandpapery. Though admittedly the clumsy bump of noses preceding it is. The bump draws a hitch of breath but Shelby's able to keep herself from laughing. She makes a sound /like/ laughter, soft and burbly, but it doesn't last long. After quickly tilting her head to avoid further mishap, she lifts her chin to meet that touch of lips and allows it to linger almost chastely until she's judged he's had enough. The nose-bump that follows, narrow to flattened, is entirely deliberate. "See? Not that bad." Her eyes are dancing at him. "You /really/ want that book back, huh?" Sebastian is blushing deeply, but at least he is breathing. Correctly! With his /lungs/. "I --" He tips his head briefly to rest against hers, then sits back, curling his arms around his shins. "No, that was really --" His smile is warm, and quick, and he rests his chin against his knees, face tilting slightly downwards as though that will hide the deep blushing. "Nice," is quieter, half mumbled, but then he looks up with his smile spreading. There's laughter in his eyes, too, as he says (in a serious /tone/, at least): "I really love trig." "Yeah, you better say nice," Shelby teases. Then she's shifting from her knees to her hip, reaching across the floor to drag the backpack over--and giving him a moment to collect himself. The zipper is dragged down so she can fish the book out to hold up her end of the bargain. It is offered like a prize. "Next time," she warns him, "I'm stealing /all/ of the notebooks." Sebastian takes that moment to press his face more firmly against his legs, drawing in breaths slowly. He's /almost/ not blushing when he looks back up, leaning forward to claim the math book and pull it in, hugging it to his chest. "Thaaaat --" He looks at his stacks of meticulously (if messily) printed notes, /possessively/, and then back to Shelby. There's amusement in his voice as he says, "-- sounds like it'd make one heck of a ransom." He's spinning his chair back around to open his trig book once more and try to find his place. Or maybe just to hide his sudden spurt of further blushing. "Yeah," she says again, brightly this time. "It'll be fun! I'll take good care of them and everything." Shelby is /not/ blushing as she springs up from floor, the backpack in tow. The list of her classes is transferred from jeans pocket to 'pack pocket before she slings the thing over her shoulder--seeing as how Bastian has already returned to his studies. "You don't stay distracted too easy, huh? Next time I'll have to use tongue," she threatens, giving his shoulder a poke. "I'm gonna go grab some dinner, 'kay?" "Exams are /next week/," Sebastian says by way of /earnest/ explanation. "Oh, gosh, dinner. I should --" He's looking at his books reluctantly. Maybe leaving them is /hard/. "Do that too. If I can find Shane," he grumbles. Because clearly he is incapable of eating on his own. Not that the twins actually /use/ the dining hall much. He turns to offer Shelby a quick smile. "Um, I'll -- see you -- later." "/All/ the notebooks," Shelby says--making it a threat--when Bastian speaks of exams. But she's grinning, even as she withdraws to leave him to it. "After dinner, maybe. Have fun!"