ArchivedLogs:Kind of Heavy
| Kind of Heavy | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2016-01-12 "Tho, now they're doing the whole co-ed thing?" |
| Location
<XS> Derek, Sergio and Taylor's Dorm - FL2 | |
The influx of new students this year has led to a bit of overcrowding at Xavier's, and it is starting to show in the dorm arrangements, many rooms like this one refitted for three students where they had once been built for only two. The standard two closets have been joined by a large armoire against one wall; three dressers have been moved in, three desks. A bunk bed on the left side, a lofted twin with its desk underneath it on the right. There is rap music playing in the dorm, not quite as loud as Taylor's usual -- probably only by dint of the fact that he has headphones in. The fact it's still clearly audible says something about how loud it's /playing/ through his enormous headset, "Knuck if you Buck" piping through the huge cushioned earpieces. Taylor is seated, right now, at his desk, in jeans and no shirt, still-damp towel hung around his shoulders from a recent shower. Some arms draped down back over his chair, some rested on his desk, one absently toying with the swing on a (brand new, a fairly recent addition to the room) large wooden jungle gym tucked under his loft bed next to an also large birdcage. A grey parrot is clambering off the swing, scuttling down his arm over to the desk to pluck his pencil out of his hand. Unhelpfully. He's /been/ working on his physics homework. Maybe Coraline is taking over. At least, she takes the pencil, tapping it on the page for him instead. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. He doesn't fight her for it. "{Not sure that's the answer,}" he does tell her in mildly amused Japanese. "{Close, though.}" Just outside of the door, Sergio lingers in the hallway for a moment. Wetting his lips, he does his best to rally his courage. He shifts the box of personal effects onto his hip and adjusts the strap of the hot-pink backpack he'd taken from Tiffany's house. Taking a deep breath, he taps his tiny knuckles on the door. Turning the doorknob, Sergio presses onward into the room without waiting for a response from within. His lashes flutter in an unsure, helpless expression as he looks up into it. To the naked eye, Sergio is not Sergio at all. Rather, he's the former runner up for Miss New York Teen with wavy hair, creamy skin, and large blue eyes. Not yet confined to a wheelchair, he appears as a girl standing nearly a foot shorter than where once had. Hidden beneath a too-big letterman jacket from Sergio's previous school in Hawaii, the girl doesn't dress so differently than he used to. She wears a baseball tee and jeans, although it seems as if women's jeans always run quite a bit tighter than men's. The only shoes Sergio thought to grab are tan UGGs, which he tucks the pants into. The comfy slip-on boots are the kind with pom-poms attached that bounce around as he moves. To even the passively observant telepath, Sergio's likeness is there. Robust and healthy, his astral form moves in tandem with the girl. Overlapping, they somewhere appear to exist simultaneously. In this instance, the letterman jacket fits perfectly over the boy's broad shoulders. Still exhibiting a natural lack of defense against telepathy in general, only one stream of consciousness exists: Sergio's. "Daithy, I'll meet you later for homework, I promithe!" Derek's voice can be heard, with a tone of laughter to it, outside the door. "You better you jerk." A girl's voice responds as Derek stumbles past the doorway Sergio just entered, after being shoved by his younger sister. He grabs his sister in a hug before she pushes him away playfully, punching him in the shoulder. "And take a shower first, you stink." Derek sticks his tongue out at Daisy before going to enter the room. Derek's hair is a bit damp and more messed up than usual, there's a few sweat marks on his red t-shirt and a bit of a pink flush to his cheeks. He stops short, almost walking into Sergio and looks around the room. "I'm not interrupting anything, I can come back later if you want?" Under the impression that she's a friend of Taylor's. "-- I waste yo ass you step to my crew --" Taylor flicks his headphones down off his head to hang around his neck, spinning around in his chair to frown towards the door. "Heyyy you looking for Derek? Should be back soon." On the desk, Coraline is still bobbing along with the music, tapping out a mess of pencil scratches onto his homework. "What, she ain't mi --" But here he stops, his eyes fluttering open wider. One slim arm lifts from his shoulder to rub along the scarred side of his face, and he leans back in his seat. Two arms press their tips to his temples, rubbing there. "... the fuck." Flat and confused. "{You're dead.}" Much like Sergio's current presence, his voice comes out dual-layered, words spoken in Japanese though it's layered over with a dissonant psionic translation that forces understanding through anyway. "Oh, sorry, no," Sergio meekly side-steps out of Derek's way, curling over himself as he nearly loses hold of the large box. Peaking out of the top, it appears to be full of football paraphernalia and other things from his former life. He reddens at being called out, "I ...astral projected at the last second," he chirps in the girl's sweet voice, fluttering his eyes away around the room. Emotionally, he's a raw nerve. It seems in Taylor's presence, he does his best to gain a modicum of control. "So, do you guys have uhm, a free bunk?" He tries to smile but can't, bringing up a knee to push the bottom of the box up a little higher, "This is really heavy." Derek's eyes move between Taylor and Sergio and his confusion is obvious. "What… whothe dead and what do you mean?" Astral projected, words that mean very little to Derek. He stays standing in the doorway, not pushing past Sergio to his bunk. "Tho, now they're doing the whole co-ed thing?" It doesn't bother Derek either way, if it was the case, as he grew up with a sister. "Or am I mithing thomething?" From Taylor's reaction, he thinks he might be. Taylor is still just staring. A little bit mechanically, he lifts an arm, points to the vacant lower bunk that Kaine had once used. "Astral projected." In English, this time. Though back to Japanese afterwards: "{It is kind of heavy.}" The psionic connotation accompanying his words suggests he's not talking about physical weight. "Astral projected -- {/into/ --}" He gestures questioningly towards -- this new body. "{But how does that --}" He blinks, swallows, shakes his head quickly. "{No. Not co-ed. That's -- not -- that's Sergio.}"
Complicated, that's enough to say it's over his head. Derek does his best to understand the situation but he's not always quick to pick things up. "Tho… that'th Thergio?" He points at the girl and nods more accepting the answer than understanding it. Despite that, he moves to help Sergio with the box and nods. "Yeah, that bunk ith free." Repeating Taylor. "Welcome to the room?" Taylor's arms coil inwards, pulling tighter in against his body. One smaller limb slips under Coraline's spindly feet, lifting the bird up from her desecration of his homework to perch on his shoulder again. "Sergio," he confirms, "in a different body. Powers are -- messy things. I guess." His voice is a little odd, kind of tighter than usual. A small wrinkle forms between his brows. "... Are you. I guess 'okay' is a dumb question, huh." One hand runs over his smooth head. "... who is she?" The girl ...Sergio… surrenders the box to Derek with a pressed-together half smile. Her arms had just begun to shake. "Thank you," she manages with awkward bashfulness, dipping to pull the pink backpack back up her shoulder. Internally, Sergio isn't able to relax. He doesn't answer whether or not he's okay. The past few weeks have taken their toll. It's clear in his expression, body language, and surface thoughts. To Taylor's question, he slowly wraps his arms around himself and makes his way towards his new bed, "Tiffany." The weight of the guilt he feels over the turn of events is immense. Well, as immense as it can be without him being brave enough to give the body up. "She is uhm, was brain dead. From an attack," he sets down the bag, eyes wandering towards Taylor's pet bird as he sits. Looking back to Taylor, Sergio concentrates on a memory and does his best to bring it to the front of his thoughts. It's of a doctor whose face he can barely remember, speaking to him (as Tiffany) about her condition and the signs of a /previous/ telepathic intrusion. Carefully unzipping the bag, he pulls out a flute and fiddles with it, "I tried to learn more about her." The box is placed on the floor, at the foot of the bunk, before Derek rubs the back of his head, leaving his hair sticking up at odd angles. He almost seems apathetic on the outside but it's because he's having a hard time processing, understanding it all. He tries to say something, and stalls several times. Emotional support isn't Derek's strong suit. "If you need anything, jutht athk. I… really don't know what to thay to be honetht. Jutht, I dunno… I'm glad you're not dead?" Internally he winces after speaking, knowing what he just said didn't come out the way he intended. "{Sorry.}" Taylor is quiet. His eyes flick over Sergio for a moment before dropping away. "{I... that's. Rough, man. I...}" But he trails off again, here, the clubbed end of one tentacle rubbing at the back of his neck. One side of his mouth twists upward, a little bit pinched. "{Sorry,}" he finally just says again, cheek tipping in against the top of Coraline's head as he stands. "{I'm getting some cocoa. You want?}" Sergio quietly thanks Derek again as he sets the box down. “I think I’m just gonna unpack,” he dips his head in a small bow to the offer of hot chocolate. Setting down the flute, Sergio reaches down into the box to bounce a football up into his palms. He shifts back in the bed as his fingers spread to the correct locations on it. As he continues to go through it, the box will prove to have ...quite a bit of football paraphernalia. | |
