ArchivedLogs:Glad You're Safe

Glad You're Safe
Dramatis Personae Peter, Kai, Rahne	2013-06-22 Everybody's alive!
Location <XS> School Grounds
Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse. The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous. Peter's arrival back on school grounds that Saturday is /maybe/ a little subdued; just a car riding up near the front gates -- a /very/ tense looking older gentleman heading into the building -- and then, coming out to open the door for Peter. Who is currently in /crutches/, both feet in rather obvious, clunky looking casts; it looks like they swallow everything up to the middle of his shins! Otherwise, Peter seems in relatively good shape; he's wearing a blue collared shirt -- with buttons! -- sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black dress slacks (the cuffs rolled up to expose his shins, where the casts begin). A black back pack strapped to his back. He's also moving rather quickly with those crutches toward the school grounds -- whump, whump, whump! Anyone who hasn't seen Peter in a while might notice something else new about him: Rather than pale, pink skin, Peter's now covered -- from head to toe! -- in metallic blue /chitin/. In direct sunlight, it has an unsually flashy, oil-on-water effect -- swirling a myriad of colors across his skin in subtle shades mostly overcome by the dark blue hue of the chitinous coating itself. Otherwise, he looks like he always had -- big, dorky glasses! Brown hair! And, at the moment, a slightly pained, tense expression. Like he's just finished getting his ear talked off! And, on the steps of the school, here there be dragons. Well, a dragon. Kai. The thin Korean boy is dressed in cargo shorts and a pair of actual (!) red sneakers, with a similarly red shirt with a lightning bolt on the chest. On his back, he has a backpack. And, on his face he has a solemn expression that is probably meant for Peter, since that is where his furrowed gaze is pinpointed. He lets Peter whump his way forward a couple of steps before he comes down the steps and BEELINES for the older boy. "Peter." It's accusatory and concerned at the same time. "Peter, what have you /done/? You are hurt /again/." Largely by happy accident, Rahne is on her way through the foyer and on to destination unknown when the arrival of the unknown car draws her attention. She is totally one of those kids that is staying the whole summer, because her mother probably has stuff like /important/ work to do and Rahne needs to catch up on getting a more, uh, 'normal' education. Maybe she visited home these past couple of weeks and that's why she's been scarce or something. ANYWAY, with the car, she waits to see exactly who it disgorges, wary about it but curious nonetheless while peeking through a window. The wariness practically flies from her, though, when she spots Peter. And then Kai and Peter. Out the door the wee redheaded Scot goes to follow after Kai, thin brows drawn together in worry, though she keeps mum since it sounds like Kai has the questions covered. "S'okay," Peter tells Kai, as he /slings/ himself forward with those crutches; whump, whump, whump -- he pauses about half-way toward the steps, switching his tense, apprehensive look for a crooked, awkward grin. "Just my ankles. Um. It's --" Peter blinks, then, up past Kai, toward Rahne -- eyebrows /darting/ up. "Oh /hey/ Rahne I--" Pause. The dark metallic blue chitin shifts; its coloration becomes -- suddenly violet. "--have chitin now." Yes. That's a thing. That Peter has. He glances back over to Kai, and: "It's not /that/ bad really I mean. Probably will need crutches for something like two weeks, depending." Kai looks doubtful as Peter plays it off, and he folds his arms across his chest, and pulls himself up to his full, unimpressive height. "Why are you /hurt/?" he asks, glancing at Rahne with a small jerk of a nod before looking back at the older boy. "This does not look like you were being safe while you were in the city," he notes, his eyebrows climbing a bit. EXPLAIN, PETER. Truth be told, the wee Scot looks a little... unsure about this whole chitin thing. It throws her for a bit of a loop, and she is not exactly someone practiced at hiding facial expressions. But after taking a moment to kind of work things through, she sets her features back to the more worried state and says, "Aye, so ya do, then." After that, her gaze drops to his casted ankles. "Two weeks is gonna be an eternity," she quietly notes, biting at her lower lip. A glance goes to Kai with, "Tch, cannae ye lecture him when he's sittin' doon, at least?" "...yeah it happened, um. The chitin I mean -- a while back, and," Peter begins, one crutch propped up underneath his arm, his hand extending to scratch the back of his head -- fitting Rahne with a sheepish grin. "Um, it's a little weird --" His eyes drift back to Kai at that question; Peter clears his throat. "I, uh -- there was an accident? In the subway," Peter /admits/. "A train got -- derailed. Uh. S'okay nobody died or anything it was just. Kind of messed up." Kai doesn't look /happy/ with Peter's explanation, and there's a small flicker around the edges of his eyes as he studies the older boy. "I saw the news," he says, then. "I did not know that was you, though I probably should have." His arms remain folded across his chest, and he looks at Rahne, nodding. "Yes. Two weeks is a /very/ long time to be on crutches," he says. "It will be the longest Peter has remained at the school since I have known him." Is that dry sarcasm? It might be. "Is it permanent?" Rahne asks with innocent curiosity before she can even think better of it. Because Rahne, what. She colors a bit right after it, realizing too late that question could be a rude one, but then they're moving right along in the conversation. A hand comes up to cover her mouth with the mention of the subway, and another glance goes Kai's way at the mention of the news. "What happened? Were ya on the subway?" She has maybe totally forgotten about waiting to get Peter sat down, sorry. The flush of violet remains at Rahne's question; if anything, it seems to /deepen/, risking a dip into indigo! "Oh, uh, I think -- so," Peter tells her, eyes shifting to the left and right. When she blushes in turn, though, Peter grins: "S'okay, though, I mean --" Ohright, /SUBWAY/. Peter shifts his weight back into his crutches; he starts to /sway/ a little bit on them. If he's bothered by the lack of opportunity to sit down, he doesn't show it; he seems perfectly comfortable shifting all of his weight down into the crutch's arm-pads! "...oh, some guy -- uh -- he punched the train rails. Tried to --" Peter begins, before: "Some sort of mutant terrorist thing, I think? Um, the train got derailed. It was kind of nuts. /But/," Peter adds, as if this bit were crucial, "Nobody died some /other/ mutant dudes stopped him and I'm totally fine to go to the carnival I /mean/, I can totally walk and stuff /so/." "Yes, it was very exciting," Kai says with a nod for Rahne. "There were many people talking about it on the news. They think /you/ might be a terrorist, Peter." He frowns at that idea, as if he can't decide whether or not to agree with such a statement. Further assurances only get a narrowing of one eye, and Kai shifts his weight. "Nobody died," he repeats, his brow furrowing further. "This is a good thing. But you still are hurt. If there were other mutants there who could stop him, why are you hurt? Why were you not with Mister Jackson or your parents, like you said?" Something snaps, then, and Kai throws a hand into the air, slipping into a sudden, angry burst of Korean. "{You are the most frustrating person in the world, do you know that? It's very hard to be the friend of someone who almost kills themselves all the time! What were you thinking?}" "What othar 'dudes'?" the wee Scot quietly puzzles. Lord, does 'dudes' sound funny coming from her, by the way. "Ach, nae, why would anyone think o' Peter as a terrorist? He's..." Rahne takes a moment to not-quite-stare at Peter while trying to think of an adequate descriptive word for him. "...well, he's Peter." She opens her mouth to say something after Kai's interrogative questions, but then he goes off in Korean. She leeeeans just a wee bit away from it, brow furrowing. "Are ya /supposed/ ta be walkin' a lot, though?" she asks Peter, after Kai's outburst. "I was, uh," Peter admits, "actually on my way back from -- I got -- kind of an internship -- job thing? I had to go in to sign a bunch of paperwork after classes, and..." The outburst in Korean manages to make Peter's eyes widen; the gentle swaying becomes a backward hop! Hop, hop! Kind of like a little frog jump. "...um, but --" His eyes sling back to Rahne. "--oh there was. A /tree/ dude? He's, kind of -- treeish. He's like, made of wood? He helped people, when everything --" Peter shifts his arms down to hold the crutches as his hands make an explosion gesture, accompanied with a 'splchhh!' noise -- cheeks puffing out. "--went nuts. Uh, I should /probably/ not walk too much, but the doctor mentioned -- as soon as I can stand it I should put just a /little/ weight on them, just. Not a lot, and--" Peter's eyes sling back and forth between Rahne and Kai, suddenly, as if he looks like he's about to explode. And then, in a sudden rush -- "and uh I stopped the train." Kai's brow does not seem to want to unfurrow, and he leans in to PEER at Peter. "What is an internship?" he asks, tilting his head curiously. "I do not know this word." He listens carefully to Peter's explanation of the other people, occasionally glancing in Rahne's direction as if gauging her reaction. The assurances about Peter's ankles gets a small uptick of the younger boy's eyebrows, but he remains otherwise silent. The revelation of the extent of Peter's involvement, though, gets another, heavier and frustrated sigh, and Kai makes a 'there you go' gesture as he looks at Rahne. Then he's looking back at Peter. "It is good you stopped the train," he says. "I am sure the news people will stop talking badly about you soon." He sounds like he means that, too. "Erm, like ya go ta work fer somebody who teaches ya things aboot the job, but ya dinnae get paid much if at all fer it," Rahne helpfully supplies. But as Peter explains, the wee Scot listens, getting sucked into the story. She does live vicariously through other people on occasion or anything. "Treeish?" she questions at that point, simply because it's so... well interesting is a good word, if how high her brows are lifted is any indication. "Oh, Peter," she says once he admits to stopping the train, and she looks like maybe she wanted to hug him with that but has stopped the impulse due to the whole on-crutches thing. So there is just this small hesitation that leads to absolutely nothing. "That was very brave o' you to do," she says, managing to fret with it despite what the words are trying to convey. "An' ya shouldna be hobblin' all o'er willy nilly if'n yer doctar says so. A /little/ weight isna /a lot/." "Ohyeah, what she said," Peter confirms Rahne's definition of 'internship' for Kai, only adding: "I'm gonna be going to school /and/ doing um, internship. Kind of. I mean. I think it's an internship," Peter continues, eyebrows crumpling. At the mention of it being brave, Peter dives straight into indigo again; the coloration swims over his face, and: "Umthanks I /probably/ shouldn't be telling people that bit though," he admits. "I think they're -- angry. The press? Police? Somebody," Peter adds, before -- hop, hop! Now he's shifting his weight toward those steps, ambling toward a chair. To chuck himself into. As if in response to keeping the weight off! "I haven't seen you in like forever," Peter mentions to Rahne as he flops into the chair. "I think -- were you on vacation? Oh man so much, just, /stuff/ happened," he says, waving his arm at -- the school in general? "It's been, kind of nuts." "A job," Kai echoes, and his exhalation this time is weary, and he nods limply in understanding. "So you will be doing this and school. You will not have time for..." he presses his lips together, and there's a momentary whiteness as he pinches his lower lip with his teeth. "...getting into danger," he finishes. "Good." He watches with concern as Peter levers himself towards the chair, and tucks his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. "Peter is very brave," he informs Rahne. "Although I do not know that it is always a good thing." Then, to Peter, "Yes. Many people are not happy with you, it seems." He stands there, not coming closer to Peter or Rahne, but watching them with flickering eyes for a moment before he turns sharply. "I will see you later," he says, beginning to walk in the general direction of the gate, and talking back over his shoulder. "Take care of your ankles." "Why on God's green earth would they be angry with ye?" Rahne asks, her expression shifting to something of a mini-scowl with a heavy dose of confusion. With his hopping towards a chair, up steps no less, she kind of hovers. Just a little. In case he needs help or anything. Until he gets seated, anyway. "Oh," the wee Scot sounds, with the mention of being scarce. "Aye, I went home a bit." She looks to Kai after that, though, brows up again. Before she can open her mouth to say anything, though, there he goes. "Erm, bye, Kai," she offers to his retreating form. "Oh man no I'm gonna be busy the whole summer with /so/ much stuff," Peter says, and it's hard to tell if he's saying this because he's complaining or because he's /excited/; it might be a little of both. Peter's continuing to rub away at his face as he says it. "Bye, Kai," Peter adds, continuing to /rub/ rub rub at his eye socket, fist grinding into it, like -- /get in there/. "I think," Peter mentions to Rahne, as she hovers -- a fact that Peter does not seem to mind! -- "they were angry 'cuz I didn't stick around to explain? Also I, uh, /wrecked/ -- some stuff," Peter admits, violet-faced again. "I mean I think it would have been -- way worse -- if I hadn't -- but --" Peter suddenly makes a face at Rahne. "/Not/ with Reverend /Jerkface/, right?" Peter doesn't like the Reverend. JUST IN CASE. Rahne needed reminding. "Good-bye, Peter," Kai says as he gets further down the drive. "Good-bye, Rahne. I will see you when I get back." Then, if they're watching, he walks the rest of the way down the drive and out of the front gate. Alone. As in, without a teacher. Or, y'know, someone who knows the area. But he is /gone/. "What kinda internship?" the wee Scot asks out of idle curiosity, watching Kai go. Once Peter is all situated, she finds a chair for herself to semi-curl into, legs tucked up under her. She is totally barefoot, though when has she ever minded being outside like that. Peering at Peter, she asks, "What didja wreck?" with brows up as if she expects him to say a whole subway station or something. "I mean, if ya /saved/ people an' didna hurt anyway, I canna imagine they'd be /that/ angry..." She blinks at his sudden question, baffling a little. "Ach, nae. I dinna... I havena seen that man in a long while now. No, I was visitin' me mum on Muir Island." "Stark Industries?" Peter says, like a question -- as if to ask if the wee Scot has ever heard of it! "It's /so/ awesome I -- um," he cuts himself off at Rahne's second question, though. "...a whole subway station," he tells her. Then, a little more meekly: "Also, the train." When Rahne curls up in that chair, Peter's hands reach to grip the arms of his own chair, as if bracing himself: "--it woulda been wrecked /anyway/ though I mean, I just. Wrecked it. A lot, uh. Less? But --" At the mention of not hurting anyone, Peter's grip grows slack. He slides back into the chair, suddenly still and quiet. "...nobody died," he repeats, much /more/ quietly now. "But... I think some people -- on the news, were hurt." This fact makes his nose wrinkle; his face twists into a puzzled frown -- as if struggling over the implications this carries. "...oh right," Peter says, suddenly brightening at the mention of Rahne's mother. "I remember you said she's a scien--Muir island?" Peter interrupts himself, suddenly /peering/ at Rahne. "...wait. A science-mom -- Muir Island." Eyebrow /SCRUNCH/. "...not, that -- /famous/ one?" "Oh," she says, with a small nod, as if she totally knows what Stark Industries is (no she doesn't). "It sounds nice." Rahne picks at some random spot on her jeans when he explains the subway station. And the train. And the people. A frown threads out across her mouth, and she reaches over to touch one of his hands just lightly. "Peter, if ye didn't start the mess, that's not yer fault. Ya were tryin' ta help people, aye?" With talk of her mother, though, she looks down and off and turns a faint shade of pinkish and picks at that spot again. "Aye, Moira MacTaggert is me mum. Adoptive mum. Seems like evarybody here kens her name." "Oh," Peter responds, a little soft, at the contact with his skin; the chitin is smooth -- kind of glossy! -- but also yielding. He smiles weakly, before adding: "Yeah, I just -- I mean. If I hadn't -- I'm pretty sure -- people would have died. I'm just -- I guess, worried? But..." There's a flicker between violet and indigo, as if he can't decide which one he's going with. /But/. At the mention of Moira MacTaggert; Peter's hand kind-of-leaps underneath Rahne's; the flush threatens to be abolished beneath the hot white light of EXCITE: "OhmyGod /yes/, I mean -- she basically /discovered/ mutations that's so awes--oh," he adds, suddenly interrupting his own rush, apparently -- noticing her sudden flush, and leg-picking! "--oh, um, I guess--" Sheepishly, he grins -- reaching behind his head to scratch. "--you probably get that a /lot/, here." She worries. It's clear by her expression, with the wrinkled brow and the smallish frown that kind of hovers. "Ach, Peter, I'm sure ya did what ya thought was best at the time. Which is all ye kin ask for." She is probably not helping to make him feel that much better, sorry Peter. With his enthusiasm, though, she continues to pick at that invisible spot on her jeans, even if the faintest hint of amusement threatens behind the color to her cheeks. "It's all right," the wee Scot assures him, that amusement carrying over faintly to her voice. "It's kinda weird, for me. I didna ken her as that first, ya ken? I didna ken for a while, really. So she's... I dunno. She's me mum first. I mean, a supar sciency, hard-working mum. But." "I probably could have done better," Peter admits, rather softly. "But I guess. I mean. You can /always/ do better--" At the mention of Moira being her mum first, Peter /grins/. "That would be -- /man/ that would be so surreal. Like having -- TonyStark for my dad," Peter decides. "I mean, in her field, I know she's -- /kind/ of a big deal. It's really cool that she's, um -- I mean, that she's -- a good mum, too. Uh, mom," Peter corrects himself, struggling not to once again go violet. "'Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily,'" Rahne quotes, with a small smile for Peter. She leaves off the important part of the line about the Lord, but that's kind of on purpose. "We kin always get bettar, Peter. Wantin' ta do that isna a bad thing." "Aye, I guess she is," the wee Scot says, about Moira being a big deal. She's quiet for a long moment after that, thoughtful. She looks down at the floor and says, finally, quietly, "She saved me. I canna ask for anyone bettar." After Rahne's announcement concerning Moira, Peter's actually quiet for a while; he stares at the floor himself, letting the silence speak /for/ him. When he gets tired of what it has to say -- he's suddenly shuffling around, squirming to try and get up to his feet -- sloooowly leaning his weight down into the arms to push himself up -- a hand reaching, hesitantly, toward her, and: "Um. Would it be weird," Peter says, /maybe/ a little awkwardly as he holds his arm out, "if I gave you a hug I mean, uh. I think I'm actually not supposed to /ask/ am I, oh wow this is, awkward," he decides, turning /dark/ violet, before adding: "I'm glad she. Uh, did that. For you. I mean. Helped you. Saved you." Still thoughtful about things, it takes Rahne a moment to notice Peter stirring around, though once she realizes what he's up to, she blinks and is to her feet herself. In case he needs help or anything. Because, really, casts for /both/ ankles. She then blinks again at his request. Instead of asking 'what for,' though, which is her very first thought and she manages to clamp down on, a small but bright laugh escapes her, instead. "No, not weird," she says, and really, before he can do it himself, she hugs him, anyway. "Ach, I'm glad yer safe, Peter," she adds to it.