ArchivedLogs:Friends (Past and Future Tense)

Friends (Past and Future Tense)
Dramatis Personae Ivan, Kris, Sebastian
In Absentia	2013-05-01 '
Location <XS> Forest
Quiet and shady, the trees rise all around here high and thick. In stillness, woodland creatures make appearances, though sudden noises scare them back into the cover. Dappled sunlight filters down between the thick foliage, and the ground underfoot is heavily overgrown, though here and there paths have been worn, by deer or years of students wandering familiar trails. Deep enough into the forest, and this place is like another world. It's almost eerie, with the wind sweeping past or birds flying in and out of sight exactly when you're not looking. Like they know. Late Wednesday afternoon finds one of Xavier's students in a small clearing away from the paths through the tall, plentiful trees. He doesn't even really know where he is anymore, but he doesn't seem too worried. He followed /bugs/. Half a dozen empty, clear plastic containers of various sizes stand in the midst of twigs, on top of a fallen log. More still are placed on the ground, but they are not empty - beneath blue and white lids, mosquitos, caterpillars, ants and many others are trapped inside. Toward the middle of the clearing sits their captor. Ivan is dressed in jeans and a white dress shirt, black wool coat hanging open. He's crouched over another fallen log, this one a bit bigger, poking curiously at a bit of bark to try and get it to attach from the slowly rotting log. A closed notebook and a pen lie at his feet, half covered in leaves. Three guesses what he's looking for. Kris likes the forest as well. She often uses it to 'practice'. Considering Logan's loan, this means she doesn't have to use her power to get in some bladework. Hanging from her belt is a sheath of some sort. If she were to draw the sword in that sheath? It'd be a razor sharp katana, and an old one at that. However, she's not the type to wander the woods with a drawn blade, so that's settled for the moment. A moment later, and she stumbles over the little clearing Ivan has found himself. Seeing all the clear containers, empty and otherwise laying there...? She has to stop by the boy, crouching next to him to look at one of the containers,"Are they friends, or are they dinner?" This is a joke... though no telling whether it will be taken as such. There is other activity in the woods, coming from farther away still and heading back in the direction of the school. Quiet steps, soft through the soft dirt, it's easily overlookable. The flash of colour through the trees less so; Sebastian is as blue as ever, and his skirt is a summery yellow. He has a shirt, balled up beneath one arm, but he's not currently wearing it; instead, he is carefully licking clean one webbed clawed hand of sticky-red that looks /very/ much like a whole lot of blood. He halts, when he sees the others, freezing in place as his jet-black eyes slice between the two. "Um --" is what he says, quietly, at first, "-- you know you're not allowed to have weapons like. At all, right?" Ivan startles at Kris' voice - apparently looking for bugs is a process that requires a lot of attention that would otherwise be spent looking around. He very grips the bark he was poking at before, unsteady in his position. But oh-- it's just Kris. He knows Kris. Phew. He manages to crack a meek little smile -- only to have it wiped off his face by yet another voice. This one, however, elicits a slightly stronger reaction. Ivan's grip on the bark increases so much that it breaks away under his hand, and he goes /toppling/ onto his back with his eyes wide before attempting a clumsy scramble back up. Should anyone look over at the boxes already filled with bugs, they may notice things are a /lot/ more lively in there, now. Kris looks over her shoulder at Sebastian... and sees him licking off the blood. When she sees that? She freezes as well. Then actually shrugs as well,"Normally that is true. Professor Logan lent it to me and told me to practice with it, though. I believe it is part of dealing with my control issues. Besides... this is far less dangerous than some of the things I can make." Because that's what she does. "Are you a student here? You look familiar. You know... skirts are not meant to be worn topless." That throat, deep-ish voice of hers seems to be MILDLY disapproving. "That's quite a collection you have there... They're very lively. I usually expect bugs to just... lay there unless you're playing with them directly." "Professor Logan," Sebastian says, slowly, "doesn't have a lot of respect for the rules, a lot of times." He's not watching Ivan as Ivan topples. He's just slowly swiping his tongue along his palm, bright pink tongue and bright red blood starkly contrasting his deep blue skin. Along his sides, and along the sides of his neck, his gills flutter at the disapproval in her voice. Rapid-quick, and for a moment he doesn't speak. "It's warm out," he says, eventually, "and I didn't want to get blood on my clothes." Only then do his eyes drop to the bugs. Tensing. His jaw works slowly as he considers their liveliness. Ivan, now upright again but with one side of his black coat /covered/ in twigs and half decayed leaves, looks the entire /opposite/ of when Kris arrived. What once was peaceful prodding are now tightly closed fists, what was calm breathing is now him visibly trying not to gasp for air. It's not unlike him to fail to greet someone, quiet and soscially stunted as he sometimes is, but both Kris and Sebastian alike seem almost completely /ignored/. He starts in a straight beeline toward the filled boxes. Eyes on the ground, brow furrowed. Kris frowns at Sebastian,"Professor Logan is a good man." A pause,"It is impolite to lick your fingers in front of others. I have a kerchief if you need one." She tilts her head ever so slightly, a curious expression,"Otherwise, I suppose that makes sense. Blood is difficult to remove from clothes." She's got experience with that. She turns to Ivan now, walking towards him,"Let me help you with those... You seem upset. You are Kai's friend, correct? Any friend of Kai is a friend of mine. Where do you want to take these?" "I didn't say he wasn't. I said he didn't respect the rules. They're still rules, though." Sebastian licks his fingers again, his brow furrowing. He eyes Kris a long moment. "No." With another tongue-swipe of blood from stickyhand. "Thank you. I don't need one." His eyes shift, over to Ivan. He glances to the bugs, and then fixes his gaze on the other boy steadily. "Are you going to attack me, this time?" he asks. It's still quiet; his voice has been quiet this whole time. Ivan waits for a spot of silence before he finally responds, perhaps slightly belatedly. When he does speak, his voice is strained, slightly quieter than the average inside-voice,"I am fine." Fine as in not upset, or fine as in I don't need any help? It shall remain a MYSTERY. Once he reaches the containers, he sinks down to reach for their lids. Just then, Sebastian is spared a glance. Just a split-second's worth of one, before his gaze is directed downward again, as intently as he can manage. The tiny critters inside the boxes start to display even more movement, writhing chaotically within, yet too weak to do anything about their imprisonment. Especially now that Ivan presses the lids downward, to make sure they're sealed properly. A hint of annoyance crosses his face, though it may be hard to spot behind his current state of distress. It is easier to hear in his voice, however. "The /bees/ attacked you." Kris leans down as well to help Ivan check and make sure the containers are fully closed once she sees what he's doing. "Noone will be attacking anyone. I detest violence." Funny, considering how much she's caused. Even so, she seems content to check the little containers with Ivan,"I do not mean this to be rude, but... am I in the middle of a... lover-spat? Do you two need privacy? I do not wish to intrude where I am not welcome." "That is a cop-out," Sebastian says, "don't even try that. /You/ control them. /You/ need to /have/ control. /You/ attacked Shane. That's /your/ responsibility." His arms tighten around his chest, a few small veins of blood still streaked against his blue fingers. His head shakes firmly. "No. We /were/ friends." With Kris helping, Ivan has a little less work. The 'thank you' she receives is utterly absentminded and in Russian, more likely an accident than not. Once all the boxes are sealed, he starts to pile them on top of one another. A full one, then an empty one. Full, then empty. And then-- Sebastian speaks. And he freezes. "I am sorry." The words are rushed out, and as such it may be hard to discern whether they are genuine. When he rises, however, leaving the containers on the ground, he looks more /fearful/ than anything else - shoulders drawn forward, arms close to his sides, head dipped just slightly as he peers toward Sebastian. Like a dog waiting to be bopped on the nose with a rolled up newspaper hovering right in front of him. "It /was/ my fault, and I am sorry. I was confused." Somewhat more quietly, almost mumbled under his breath, "I did not know we were friends." "Then it is imperative you make up soon. The further you are from base human stock, the more difficult it is to make and retain friends. I have observed this since a very early age." Kris examines the stacked work, replying to the young man,"Pozgaluista." Apparently she either speaks Russian, or understands a few words here and there. And then to Bastian, she says,"Look, see. He is... clearly a very awkward person. He is used to arhtropods more than humans. He has apologized, and genuinely contrite. Will that satisfy you?" Sebastian just bows his head, in acknowledgment of the apology. "OK," he says quietly. "Thank you." His arms are still tight around his chest, sort of half-hugging himself, and he shakes his head very slightly. "We were, I thought," he says softly, "but --" His eyes slant over to Kris. His head shakes more firmly this time. He shrugs a little stiffly. "Maybe," he says, something tightening in his voice, "the further you are from -- base -- human stock -- the less you need friends." He uncurls his arms, tugging his shirt back down over his head; sleeveless and light blue, it is decorated with darker blue butterflies and puffy white clouds. "I'll -- see you." His arms are curling tighter around his chest again as he turns, continuing his path back towards the mansion. Though the spot of Russian prompts Ivan to blink at Kris for a moment, he seems to have few complaints when it comes to her description of him. It's... hard to argue, maybe. He doesn't even respond to Sebastian, though- as soon as the sharkboy turns, Ivan is down on the ground again. He lifts and inspects the containers in quick and clumsy movements - indeed, two of them tumble to the ground before he manages to look at them - until finally, "Ah--" he finds the one he is looking for. The lid is snapped off with a -pop-, to reveal a single, large, greyish blue butterfly within. It takes off into the air a split second later, and Ivan watches it closely, eyes narrowed even as it starts its escape. Or IS IT? In its chaotic up-and-downy path... it heads for Sebastian? To land on his shoulder, if it manages to catch up! Ivan, meanwhile, simply states matter-of-factly, "At least he did not attempt to kill me again." Kris shrugs to Sebastian,"Or maybe you need them more." When the boy puts on his shirt, she lifts her voice to him,"I like your top, by the way! It matches your skin tone, and the butterflies are darling!" She slicks her hair back, though, and bends over to pick up the dropped containers. Then she watches the flight of the butterfly, she notes,"Was that you? It was a grand gesture. And it matches!" As for killing? "Killing a fellow leaves a stain that is especially hard to wipe away. There would've been none here." Sebastian is still heading off, but there's a hitch in his step -- maybe at Kris's words, maybe at the butterfly that lands on his shoulder. His hand lifts, clawed fingers uncurling to very very lightly brush a fingertip against the very edge of the butterfly's wing. Just for a moment. "-- Thank you." He doesn't turn around to say this; it could be to either of them. And then he continues, disappearing off into the trees. The butterfly, upon having its wing brushed, has absolutely every reason to up and fly away. It does not. That waits until Sebastian is out of sight. Then, Ivan breathes. Just breathes. Staring in the general direction of where Sebastian headed off to. "... That was me." His voice is steadier now, though lingering unease remains in both it and his expression. "Do you speak Russian?" Kris shakes her head at Ivan,"No, I do not. Sometimes, though, the Moro would buy arms from Russian men, though. I picked up a few important words." She actually heaves a sigh,"I know it is difficult not to hear one's mother tongue very often. I wish I could do better than a few words." It takes a few seconds, but Ivan manages a smile. it's sort of weak, and shows better in his eyes than the rest of his face, when he looks to Kris again. "I have a large family. They call me more than I would like." He admits this with a mix of amusement and shame- as if he's sorry he said it before he even finished talking. "There is also Kisha, at the school, who speaks Russian." His gaze lowers, now, to the containers. Whatever seems to have spooked the critters inside has ceased to affect them, and for the most part, they're still. He begins to pile them back up. Kris shakes her head at the boy,"That is not what I mean. It is... being surrounded by your own language... It is part of feeling normal. Not sharing a mother tongue with people... It makes one feel different, separate." She actually shivers a bit, but manages to ask,"So... that... boy uses 'he'? He's got quite the fashion sense, in my opinion." Ivan's brow furrows in thought as Kris continues to explain, but he keeps busy with the containers. When he's got two even stacks, he reaches aaall the way to the bottom and piles them against his chest as he rises. Apparently this is how he means to get them back to the school. "Sebastian." He starts walking, oh-so-careful to not let the containers slide away, expression sliding gradually back into neutrality. "I have not heard anyone use anything else." Sebastian's clothes, apparently, are not for him to judge aloud. Kris grins a little bit,"Sebastian, like little cartoon fish." She makes a fish-face at Ivan, and then laughs all over again. She reaches out to take a few containers to help the boy carry them,"Here, it will get don faster if I carry them. I promise not to eat any." She says it in a joking tone,"I just wanted to be sure. I know I do not like being referred to as 'he', so I'd rather be careful, you know. You are a good person, I think. Do not lose that."