ArchivedLogs:Good Investments

Good Investments
Dramatis Personae Ducky, Jackson	2014-03-05 '
Location <XS> Art Room - FL2
Smells of paints and chalks and turpentine mingle freely in this room, well-used, well-stocked. Natural light flows in, plentiful through the large windows. The long counter-like tables are speckled with spots of color, and half finished projects often stand on easels or propped in corners. The many cupboards lining the walls are crammed full of art supplies. It is still morningtime around Xavier's -- it /would/ be the transition between first and second period in a normal schedule but today things are a little more lax; nearly everyone by now has finished with exams, save a few unfortunate souls scheduled late enough that they still have theirs scheduled for the very final slots on the last day before break. It's an odd mix of relief and stress, then, with most of the school very glad to be done and a few people still cramming or rushing off to their final tests. Jackson's classes /have/ no exams; /he's/ had a remarkably relaxed week, teaching-wise. For his students there's only final /projects/ due -- still stressful for /them/ but for him it just means being here to pick /up/ their work (and then, admittedly, a lot of work in /grading/ it.) At the moment he's swinging by to do just that. Currently he's kind of slumped against a table in the art room, shuffling a pile of drawings together. He's dressed brightly as ever -- sky-blue and black mesh UFOs, a bright purple fishnet shirt with 'believe in faeries' t-shirt over it, rainbow striped hoodie over that, the tips of his floppy black hair frosted in purple and red. Huge mirrored sunglasses on his eyes, a large ashy dark /smudge/ in the middle of his forehead. Kind of sluggish as he gathers the artwork into a folder. Finals had been finished for Ducky yesterday afternoon, but as with many students at the school, the young woman has nowhere else to go over break, and is thus still running around the school. As she peeks her head around the frame of the door, curiously looking into the room, the dappled gray and white pigeon perched atop her head coos and looks around as well, their gazes sweeping in opposite directions of each other until they both look right at Jackson. Stepping into the room, Ducky has her hands clutched tight to something in her hands, which is apparently reasonably heavy. She is dressed casually today, in a pair of faded blue cargo pants and a zip up Xavier's school hoodie, over a bright yellow t-shirt. Keeping close to the door as though nervous to interrupt Jax's work, Ducky chirps, "Um. Hi, Mr. Jax. Um, do you have a minute, or could I talk to you possibly? S'ok if you need me to come back another time, but I kinda wasn't sure what to do, so I wanted to check with you first, kinda." As she speaks, she fidgets with the object in her hands, idly shifting its weight between her palms. "Mmm?" Jackson lifts his head slowly, brows raising as he looks over towards Ducky. "Oh -- hey." A smile flits briefly across his face, and he pushes himself up to stand more upright, palms braced against the edge of the table. "No hey c'mon in. I got time whats --" He tips his head down slightly, gaze shifting to look towards Ducky's hands. One of his hands lifts off the edge of the table, gesturing to an empty seat in invitation. "What's up? Somethin' wrong?" "Nothing's wrong," Ducky says, shaking her head, the pigeon fluttering down on to nestle in her hoodie, offering a nervously lopsided smile. Having been given the go ahead, she steps forward, and sets what she had been fidgetting with on the table with a surprisingly hefty thunk, taking the offered seat and staring at the object on the table. It's... a sponge. Or at least a perfectly sculpted likeness of one, made of a lustrous gold metal. "Um. So a while back, before I came here, I kinda came across this. Well, not so much came accross as a girl gave it to me. And made me promise I wouldn't say where I got it from," Ducky babbles, looking a bit sheepish. "S'kinda heavy, and she... she said it was gold. I didn't really believe her, because, really, um, why? So I've been using it as a paper weight. But, well, I realized I should probably see if it actually was," she explains, poking at the heavy object. "And if it is... what am I s'posed to do with it? I can't really, um, deposit a sponge in the bank," Ducky shuffles and murmurs the next part, "Can't buy a new tablet for Horus, neither." Jackson reaches for the sponge curiously, straightening further in abrupt surprise at the unexpected weight of it. "Wait. Someone jus' -- /gave/ you a -- a --" His tone is just stark puzzlement as he picks the sponge up, carefully turning it over in his hands. "A -- sponge." He squeezes it slowly, no less baffled as his fingers work at its indentations. "Made. Of gold. How -- do you even get a -- who makes sponges out of gold that's -- uh. OK I guess not the /strangest/ thing that's happened around here," he's forced to admit. "I don't actually know how y'check an' see if somethin's gold I guess you um." His brows are creasing again, teeth scraping against his lip. "Take it to a -- a jeweler or somewhere, gosh. Uh. That's. This is /heavy/, Ducky, this is gotta be worth a bundle if it's -- if it's actually gold. D'you even have a bank account?" "She didn't want to keep it. So she gave it to me when I was chasing a pigeon on a rooftop. Didn' say her name, or anything. Just... not to say where I got it," Ducky says nervously, looking at the object, "But that was my thought too. Who makes a sponge out of gold? And then just... gives it away" The sponge does not actually give when squeezed, instead just being a relatively cold, shiny piece of porous metal. "'Snot even the strangest thing that's happened to me this semester. I mean, I dreamed up a broken tablet from a friend. S'kinda been that sorta semester," Ducky offers with a shrug, picking the sponge back up and turning it over in her hand, looking at the finger indentations in it idly. "I was gonna ask Doctor Winthrop, because I know there's something we went over with this sorta thing in class. Well, ok, not this specifically, they don't really cover gold sponge protocols in chemistry class, I guess. There's... science you can do to it to figure out what something is," Duck frowns, gnawing on her lower lip. The question about a bank account makes her blink, looking sheepish, "Um. Well, yes and no? I mean, my parents opened one for me when I was little, to put birthday money and stuff in, but I didn't have the number or nothing, since I kinda ran away and all that." She leans her chin on the desk, eyeing the block of holey gold up close. "Still kinda hesitant to talk to them, or try and get anything. Same reason I haven't gone for my license. 'Sides not having a car. First time 'Megan Teal' applies for somethin' official, it's gonna pop up on the missin' persons list," she grouses, sounding more than just a touch paranoid. Jackson leans back against the table, elbows propped against it and his head dropping back into a hand. His fingers curl up into his hair, cheeks briefly puffing out. "He'd be good t'ask, yeah. I mean, he'd sure know better'n /I/ do about how to figure out what it /is/. But if it /is/ gold, I mean. That's a hefty -- gosh. You know, gold's a good investment all on its /own/ --" He hesitates, nose crinkling up. "But I guess if y'want to do somethin' nice for Horus it don't help you much it bein' a sponge an' all. I could take you downtown over break. Might be a bit of work, sortin' out -- gosh. A lot of things. Gettin' you a new bank account, if you don't want to deal with your folks -- though if you /do/ the school can help you with that, too. Um, an' --" He furrows his brow slowly. "An' gettin' that whole thing appraised -- cuz a chunk'a gold that size, Ducky, I gotta feeling it's gonna buy you a whole lot more'n a tablet. You're probably gonna want to put that money away somewhere. Save it to -- you're gonna have college to think about 'fore long." Ducky nods slowly, picking the sponge back up and turning it over in her hands, "Yeah, s'kinda something that got talked about in economics class back at my old school. Gold being a good investment. But I think they mean like gold bars, or gold coins. Gold sponges're kinda strange. Could maybe melt it down? I mean, that would make it kinda more normalish than this." She leans an elbow on the desk, resting her chin in her hand, "I know it'd be a lot easier to just, y'know, talk to my parents. I'm just kinda... scared. That they'll make me come home, or... or send me to one of those labs or something." A guilty look furrows her brow at this, and she shakes her head, before looking at Jax in confusion, "Really? I mean, yeah, it's kinda heavy, but it's not /that/ valuable, right?" Ducky looks more than a bit concerned at the fact she has just left this sitting on her desk for the last year, "I guess I should see about getting an account set up over the break, or, um, maybe at least getting this thing in a form where it's worth something? Cause I think it might be a bit suspicious right now." "Gold sponges is one I ain't heard of before," Jackson admits with a lopsided smile. The smile fades, brows shooting upwards. "That ain't happenin'. Your folks ain't sending you /nowhere/ like that, not on my watch. We've -- dealt with a whole lotta parents havin' to come to terms with their kids an' -- t'ain't always easy but." He shakes his head firmly. "You ain't gettin' sent to no lab. An' I ain't sayin' you /gotta/ talk to them yet or nothin'. Just -- y'ain't gonna be on your own when you do, okay?" He looks back to the sponge, slowly drooping in against the table again. One shoulder hitches up in an uncertain shrug. "I mean, we won't know for sure till we get it checked out. But gold's -- pretty valuable I -- think?" He gnaws at a lip ring, frowning at the sponge in consideration. "Definitely /kinda/ odd t'have sitting in a -- uh. Sponge-form yeah. Um. I gotta admit I'm fair clueless when it comes t'money stuff but 'least I can help take you to places where they know what they're doin'. Get that into a usable form. See what it's worth, maybe put it in a bank instead'a on your desk as a paperweight. Then talk t'my husband after an' he can see 'bout makin' Horus a new tablet." Ducky nods slowly, making the sign for 'sorry' rather than saying it aloud, "I know it's been said that that won't happen, but s'kinda an irrational fear, I guess. So many people here seem to've gone through that, and it's kinda... anyway." She ruffles her hair, guiltily looking down at the gold sponge on the table. "I kinda want to talk to them. To tell them I'm not dead. That I'm safe. To see if they even care," she grimaces, "To have someone else tell them I'm a mutant, too. S'teada them not believing me, or freaking out about it." "Thank you," Ducky sighs and shakes her head, picking up the sponge, "I guess I'm gonna go hafta go talk to Dr. Winthrop. See if he's got something to tell what this really is, 'sides a sponge." Her tone doesn't sound exactly that confident on going to talk to the other teacher. "I've never really had any to spend, parents put it away for me, since I would have just gone and bought toys for my birds when I was little," she admits with a rueful grin, reaching up to pet the now sleeping pigeon in her hood. "But I'll see what I can find out about it over break. But thank you. For letting me talk sort of aimlessly, and reassuring me that the gold sponge might actually be gold." At the mention of getting a new tablet for Horus, though, Ducky perks up and nods, "I would like that, a lot. Cause the other one really really can't really get fixed. S'kinda beyond help. But it's kinda really important to him, and let him talk to people, and he needs a new one." She ruffles her hair, and scuffs a foot against the floor, adding quietly, "And I kinda miss being able to text Horus when he's not visiting." "With everything that's happened around here, I wouldn't say it's irrational," Jackson answers with a slow shake of his head. "World gets pretty dangerous. It's just -- we won't --" He bites down on his lip, hard. "Whatever decision y'make we'll be here t'help. You just let me know, okay? An' whenever you're ready to talk to your folks, I'll help you work that out in a way that's safe. An' supported." As Ducky picks up the sponge and perks up, he just leans down further against the table, lips curled into a crooked smile. "'kay. You talk t'Dr. Winthrop an' call me up with what he tells you. S'a couple weeks'a break comin' up, I'll bring y'out to --" His fingers flutter in a vage wave. "Think about bankin' stuff if it turns out you /are/ carryin' around a lump'a gold." His smile brightens as he adds, "-- an' Horus's startin' here next term so you'll probably be hearin' from him a whole lot more -- uhh. Though I suspect that won't /stop/ him from textin' you /just/ as much anyhow once Micah hooks him back up." Ducky nods emphatically, "Thank you. I think maybe after the break I'll see about contacting them. That way I'll get a chance to pull my thoughts together. Um, as much as my thoughts are ever actually together, anyway." She ruffles her hair again, scratching at the spot she had worried thin earlier in the semester, a bit anxiously. At the mention that Horus would be attending, her eyes widen, and she grins, bouncing in place, "Really? He's gonna try school? Here? Yay!" Forgetting the more serious discussion, Ducky bounces over to Jax and gives him a big hug, whether he wants one or not, apparently. "Thank you for talking to me. And stuff, and letting me know, and being here, and y'know, being my advisor and stuff. Um, I'm gonna go see if Dr. Wintrhop is around or not, or um, see if I can talk to him to get this sorted out. But thank you. And have a good break if I don't see you? And um, um. Right. I should probably go, now." She's sort of bouncing in place, much to the displeasure of the no longer sleeping pigeon, before she picks up the gold sponge and starts towards the door, grinning and waving at Jax as she goes. Jackson straightens, for the hug, returning it with a quick squeeze and a startled laugh. "Really-really," he assures Ducky. "Y'have a good break, too. An' feel free t'call /anyways/, I know Horus an' the pups'd be glad t'have you out jus' t'visit if y'get sick of it out here an' want to come spend the night." With one more squeeze he releases her and leans back in a slump against the table, flashing Ducky a bright grin in return before returning to collect the artwork so that he can get on his way.