ArchivedLogs:Knowledge and Belief

Knowledge and Belief
Dramatis Personae Derek, Ellin, Jack, Hercules, Shane	2015-11-05 < You look kind of like a badass. > (Part of Flu TP.)
Location <XS> Gymnasium - B1
For a mutant school, this is a pretty standard gym, even if its sturdy construction to handle mutant powers is less standard. Still, it is designed along normal lines; setup for a basketball court, standard equipment -- punching bags, rubber mats, standard assortment of balls, weight training equipment, the usual fare. It is large, and as well-appointed as the rest of Xavier's tends to be. Not sleeping well, worried about several people, and potential plagues, Jack felt the need to clear his head and burn off some energy. He figured he wouldn't run into many people down in the gym with the people being sick so he's come down here rather than go running outside. At the moment, he's at one of the punching bags but that may be difficult to see given that he's just a pair of floating shorts and sneakers right now. His bag, towel, shirt, and water are nearby but he's focused more on pummeling the bag in front of him with some quick punches. Hercules, one of the afflicted, the living, groaning, plague-bearing mutants, has come to a familiar place for comfort. It is obvious that he feels rather numb, the look on his face speaks volumes. He steps inside the gym and glances around. The punching bags seem interesting at the moment. Not too much effort in beating on one, and hey, some built up aggressions can be worked out. As he closes in on one of them, a larger, more solid one, the sick teen spots another one of the bags moving. He squints and smiles, probably his first honest smile in two or three weeks. Waving at Jack as he passes by him, Hercules stops at his preferred punching bag, and sets his gym bag on the ground, pulling out a pair of boxing gloves and tape for his hands. Derek woke up this morning feeling a bit stuffy but if it's because he hasn't been sleeping much or if he's caught what's going on, but he's decided to ignore it for the time being. Never having practised with his powers, with the exception of suppressing them, he's decided to now's as good of a time as any. He enters the gym in less than suitable work out clothes, jeans and a green t-shirt, his usual jacket is missing. A wave is given to Jack and Hercules in greeting. "Hey guyth. How'th it going." He stands in the empty area of the basketball court, brow furrowed in thought. The plan WAS to get some jogging done, but one look at the gym, and all five of the Ellins decide that they do NOT feel good enough to do calisthenics. Instead, they have their bags of pepermint bark and some sports drinks in their bags. They wooble over to a bench and set up as if to watch other people exercise because that is, in fact, less stressful than exercising oneself. Instead, she indulges in nice sugary chocolatey foods and drinks which are far easier on her mood. No words to anyone as of yet. Shane is not here to Gym, really. He /has/ been elsewhere in the basement -- currently dressed in boots, lightweight cargo pants, a plain grey undershirt; his X-jacket is currently folded up and draped over his arm, looking kind of generically just like Black Leather Jacket. He probably /would/ be pretty sweaty if he could sweat; given that he can't, the signs of exertion are mostly only evident to those who know him better. His blue skin a much darker shade than its usual and far too chapped and dry, his gills working slowly open and closed. He has a towel over his shoulder, his trudging steps heading for the locker rooms, though he pauses to squint at Jack and his punching, contemplatively. Initially, Jack doesn't notice he's been joined. He keeps focusing on the bag, his punches gradually growing if force as he gets more comfortable with the speed he's picked. He notices Herc when he catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye, nodding...but forgetting the gesture is useless since he's invisible and shirtless. He keeps punching until he hears someone speak, giving one last combo to the bag before grabbing it to steady it. He takes a moment to catch his breath before turning around to face the others. There's a pause when he sees the Ellins and Jack walks over to where his stuff is. "{Hey,}" he greets in Spanish, figuring hello would at least be universal. Spotting Shane, Jack frowns in concern a moment. "{Been training, Shane?}" Hercules watches Jack wander of, and the tall teen waves to the newcomers as the enter. He shoves a mouthguard into his mouth, and brings his gloves up. A slow start as he gives the bag the ol' one-two, one two. Herc's breath being a bit more laboured than usual. After a few minutes of slow punching, Hercules begins to give the bag harder punches, grunting with each one. Derek rolls his eyes when he sees Ellin walk into the gym and decides to ignore her. He's pretty sure if he said hello she'd burst out crying at this point, the girl seems to be so darn sensitive. He shakes his head and goes back to his own business - figuring out how to 'turn on' his powers. He tentatively lifts a foot and plants it firmly on the ground with the results being.... nothing. He frowns a bit and tries again, this time planting his foot harder and still nothing. He frowns and pushes his hair back, which is when he spots Shane and raises a hand in greeting before trying to make the floor shake for a third time with the same results as the first two times. "{Been trying. Not quite at my best. Failed /every/ motherfucking --}" Shane's Spanish is fluid and easy, though there's definite frustration in his tone. A small growl rumbles up in the sharkpup's throat; he cuts it off, shaking his head sharply and pressing the back of his hand to one eye. "{Yeah. Been training. Shittily. Maybe try again tomorrow. How's yours going?}" He waves a clawed hand towards the punching bags, hairless ridge of brow furrowing at the others' punches. "{Seems like everyone's got steam to blow off.}" His black eyes slide over to Derek, watching the other boy with silent curiosity. Head tiiilting to the side as he tries to gauge What Is He Doing. Huh. The frustration in Shane's tone gets Jack giving him a worried look before he takes a moment to towel himself off. "{It's...going okay. Just trying to...burn off stress,}" he replies. Jack's Spanish is coming easily as well but Shane's is likely better. "Almost everyone," he nods towards the snacking and lounging Ellins. Jack watches Herc for a few moments as he pulls his Xavier school t-shirt on, attention eventually shifting curiously to Derek as well. Hercules eyes Derek for a few moments, having caught the other teen's movement out of the corner of his eyes. Steadying the bag, the large teen spits his mouthpiece into his gloved hand. "Hey, Derek. Saw your sister earlier, she looks a little under the weather, she's got the flu that's going around, yeah?" It looks like Hercules is having a little difficulty talking, but he takes his time. "I was thinking of asking her out." The larger man grins, brightly... and gasps for a few moments. He sighs and looks at his gloved hands, and then to the others. A bit reluctantly, he goes back to punching the bag. Harder this time around, solid thumps easily felt as well as heard. The conversation in Spanish goes completely over Derek's head. He has trouble enough with large English words. The odd looks go mostly ignored until Hercules speaks and turning to face the larger teen, Derek just /glares/ at him. "Why don't you jutht fuck off Herc! Why ith everything about relationthipth with you?! You don't even know her you ath!" The yelling results in a small coughing fit that has the rasp of a smokers cough. He turns his back on Hercules with a scowl still on his face. She should really just back off. Ellin doesn't have a lot of luck with interaction and such. Still, if she could keep her mouth shut, she'd probably irritate Derek a lot less. As it is, at least the words that follow as body number four reach into a bag for a tablet to type on aren't exactly directed at Derek. No, the tablet is flashed in Herc's direction (who knows if it is readable at this distance). < Dood why wood u say taht 2 him about his sister? > ELLIN is criticizing someone's behavior? The other four bodies are too busy stuffing their faces to comment. Shane's brows hike up. Solid black as his eyes are, its hard to tell when they're rolling, but the way his brows come together, the cant of his head, the twist of his lips to the side; all these things would only be capped by a roll of the eyes to solidify his general look of Not Impressed at Hercules's grin-punctuated comment. He doesn't comment on it himself, though. He's too busy giving Derek a concerned look at the fit of coughing that follows his outburst. The flutter of his gills grows faster. "{Shit, that's getting around.}" To Jack. Kiiind of fretting but kind of irritated: "{...this is a lot of fucking English for all this sick what the fuck.}" He pats at the pocket of his jacket, finally taking out his phone. To open up a notepad app, typing only: 'You okay?' to hold up to Derek with a worried frown. "{You've got to be kidding me...}" Jack trails off after Herc's comment. Derek's angry reply has him sighing but the coughing makes him as worried as he'd been before coming down. "{Yeah, way too much,}" he agrees with Shane, floating his phone out of his bag to start writing a message as well. When its done, he marches over to Herc and reaches up to tap his shoulder before holding the message up: 'Aren't you supposed to not be using English while sick? Hercules turns back to look at Derek, and seems to pause, zoning out for a moment or two before blinking his eyes and giving his head a shake. "Everything is a relationship, dude. And fuck... fuck you. Since when do you decide for her, eh?" He lets out a huff of breath, and then glances at the tablet Jack holds up to him. Hercules blinks, and his face turns bright red. Snarling, the large teen turns on the punching bag, and bursts it at the seams with a left hook. "And just how am I supposed to talk ... all I know is fucking.. fucking English!" Still snarling, he yanks his gym bag from the floor and starts walking off. The phone being held up to his face causes Derek realise he might not be okay. He reaches for his own phone and fiddles with it, slowly typing a response. He's halfway through it when Hercules explodes back on him. He narrows his eyes but doesn't offer any words at the moment, just a response in the shaking of the floor around him, Derek at the center. The floor keeps shaking as he continues to type and he holds his phone up to Shane. 'i didnt think i was sick. thot lack of sleep, maybe i am. shit' He watches Hercules storm off with a cold expression on his face, the mini earthquake fading. Cue a quintet of Ellins getting up off of the benches and promptly tumbling to the ground as things shake. Usually she has good balance. Usually. Something up? Whatever the case, though, the five of her manage their way to their feet, a somewhat offput expression on their faces. She doesn't exactly try to stop Hercules from leaving, but she does tumble two after him. This one with small notepad and pen in hand. < Use this from now on. Its safer okay? > Whether he takes it or not, Two skitters back to her herd, looking in the direction of Herc with a decidedly spooked look. 'You're not SUPPOSED to fucking TALK, asshole. Maybe consider people's goddamn LIVES are more important than whatever fuckshit you think so urgently needs to spew out your facehole?' Shane's teeth have bared, a growl snarling up in his chest; as Hercule storms off he hefts his phone as though he's going to /throw/ it at Hercules's back. He doesn't, though. His hand clenches around it tighter. His feet spread apart, bracing against the ground to steady himself through the rumbling; his gills still flutter rapidly, eyes slightly wider through the mini-quake. His free hand scrubs at his eyes. A little brighter when they were before. "{... please don't get sick.}" This is softer, to Jack. There's a hard swallow before he types again. 'Maybe should stop by the infirmary if you're starting to feel off. Could be stress or no sleep. Could be something worse. Not a good time to take chances.' Jack tenses and prepares to dodge out of the way when it looks like Herc is going to throw a punch, thinking it might be coming his way. When it destroys the bag instead, he doesn't relax. He doesn't stop Herc though, instead reaching out with his telekinesis when it looks like Shane might throw his phone. He's ready to catch it if need be. Thankfully there's no throwing but the invisible teen watches any interactionss between Herc and Ellin2, bracing himself against the rumbling. Glancing up at Shane, he swallows too. "{I'll try...}" he offers softly, using his TK to start cleaning up the destroyed punching bag. Hercules slows and stops when Ellin2 offers him a pad and pencil. The angry expression slowly vanishes, and he nods, reaching down with a gloved hand to take the offered things. Shane's anger washes over him then, and Hercules turns and shrugs, looking more than a bit confused. He pauses several times during Shane's tirade, and mumbles something under his breath before turning back towards the men's change rooms. Derek nods after reading what Shane wrote and starts typing will the skill of an eighty year old grandmother with a new smart phone. 'youre right. i shoud go.' He rubs his brow with his hands and shakes his head. He really can't be surprised if he's picked up whatever flu/illness this is, he's been hanging around others with it enough. Opening his mouth to talk, Derek quickly shuts it and goes to typing. 'have a good night. better to go to infirmarrie now than wait. if i am sick, better to kno now. sorry for bad spelling.' He raises a hand to Jack, Shane and even Ellin before heading out to see if he's on the 'no English' diet as well. Oh, hey, look! Herc has left, and she spend a few minutes in a room with Derek without crying. She waves at Herc and Derek, then looks over to Shane. Her tablet PC comes up, and she types a very simple phrase after some appraisal. < You look kind of like a badass. > Yeah. She's swearing now, apparently. Still, all five of them pull away to see if she can at least try to help Jack clean up the punching bag mess. A chance to excersize her helpfulness-drive! She even whistles... in harmony! 'Good luck,' is the last thing Shane types to Derek before the other boy heads off. His gills flutter at Ellin's whistling, shoulders a little more tense than they had been before. 'I am kind of a badass.' The corner of his mouth twitches up, at this. 'Who are you?' The hand holding the phone sweeps out to indicate -- all of Her. Jack's sleeve lifts as he waves to Derek. He types up a small message on his phone and holds it up for both Ellin and Shane to see. 'Shane is the most badass'. The whistling has him frowning but he holds back on comment. Not much help is needed in the cleaning department, TK making it easy. "{This is bad...very, very bad...}" The girls pause in their attemps to work with destroyed punching bag. They ALL pull out their tablets. When they finish typing (all their movements eerily in unison), they flip the over (also in unison). < Im Ellin. No we just I. U need a specific me u just call out teh number on my shirt. > Helpful. She doesn't ask who Shane is. Why? She's relying on the assumption he'll introduce himself. At least she's not adding words to the whistling. When she sees Jack has it metaphorically in hand, she relents on helping with the cleanup. < Maybe. But I have 2 keep believing tehy will come thru. I feel preti decent compared 2 earlier this week. > Shane grins (so VERY toothily) at Jack's praise bobs his head, offering out a fist to knuckletap when Ellin introduces herself. After Jack's confirmation of his Badassery he doesn't, actually, bother with introducing himself (clearly that suffices!) 'I don't have to /believe/ shit. Believing doesn't really stop disease. /Or/ zombie teeth, for that matter. I'm getting ready to fight.' 'Fight...I'd rather have one of those right now than this.' Jack types in. And that's saying a lot coming from Jack. 'Need more than belief' is his next message. He snags his water battle and takes a long drink while typing up something new. 'Need to DO something.' < Im glad that works 4 you. > Maybe not everything rolls in one ear and out the other? It's certainly a callback from Jax's words earlier. Still, each of Ellin's bodies will definitely try to get in on the knuckletapping. < Belief is all I got. Im not strong or smart and Im already sick so Im just needing 2 not fall aprt right now. Daddies working on teh problem. > Shane bares his teeth in a fierce grin at Jack. His fingers swipe quickly against his phone. 'I'll go a round with you.' The look he gives Ellin is assessing. 'Don't have to be strong to learn to defend yourself. Useful skill to have, zombies or no. Well. That and running away.' His brows furrow in together. 'I'm sick. And my pa. And my little brother. And my boyfriend. And basically everyone so.' SHRUG. His hands spread. 'What can I do? Lost so many last time. Don't want to again. You know how to throw a punch? I could show you.' There's a pause and Jack gives a little laugh. 'If you think you can handle a little friendly sparring, I'd be happy to get my butt kicked.' he offers the message to Shane. Ellin has him shifting a little uncomfortably. She reminds him a little too much of things before his mutation kicked in. 'There is a self defense class here.' is typed for the nearest Ellin. < I think I can run anyway. I dont no how 2 throw a punch. I grew up learning that fighting was bad. > She sort of shuffles embarassedly. < My parents arent here tho. > Is that... a little rebellion. < And maybe I wood not feel so scared all teh tiem. I dont want 2 get in teh way of ur sparring tho. > Another pause, and then she goes on. < I worry about dad and mom. Tehy work at teh licnic and I worry they will get sick from it. > 'Our sparring can wait a little bit, I'm sure. C'mon. Jack's badass too, we can teach you. KNOWING how to take care of yourself and other people in a shitstorm goes a long way towards being less scared, I've found.' Shane sets his jacket and towel both aside on the bleachers, his phone set aside with them. He doesn't bother with hand wraps as he moves over to the bag that Jack had been working on, rather than the one Hercules destroyed. He holds up a fist, fingers curling closed. His thumb goes -- first, on the inside of his fingers (followed by a shake of his head -- nope!) -- then at the side of his fingers (also nope!) and then curled against the outside of the knuckles (yus!) to show proper form. This time, Jack's nodding can be detected by the movement of his shirt collar. He types up a quick message as Shane starts demonstrating form. 'KNOWING can help push past fear too.' Tossing his towel back over to his stuff, Jack steps out of the way to watch. She watches the boy making fists in several ways, setting aside her tablets, and nods. She holds her arms awkwardly and her posture and footing are all wrong, but at least she's got all five of her making fists properly. It's five pairs of very intent eyes on the two of them. This is about as focused as she gets. Shane nods, throwing the nearest Ellin a thumbs-up at the hand positioning. His gaze flicks over the rest of her, after this. He gives a small shake of his head, beckoning Jack over. Here he crouches, actually taking Jack's legs and realigning them, about shoulder width apart, forward toe more or less in line with the rear heel, knees bent. Two of claws move to his eyes when he stands, and then out towards Jack; even for those with no sign language knowledge it's a very obviously cued: 'watch.' The push he gives to Jack's shoulder isn't /hard/, but it is firm; and then a similar one to the nearest Ellin. Easy to resist, with properly balanced weight; far less so with improper. He points to the next-closest Ellin. Then to Jack. Then to their legs. Your turn! Jack gives a little hum of disapproval at Ellin's stance, moving to Shane when gestured close. It looks a little awkward since its just floating clothes being arranged but Jack moves how Shane wants him to. He resists the push as expected and then makes sure he's still in the proper stance for Ellin to copy. He'll continue to help with the lesson, glad to have something sort of distract him from all the worrying and being scared he's been doing. Ellin is not very used to manhandling. She does not, however complain, when she is subjected to such. More curious than anything else. She watches the display of martial technique, and is quick to have her other four selves catch her arms before she's even pushed back very far. It's automatic, the way some people throw out a hand to grab a railing when they trip. Then she's arranging her selves in a semi-circle to work on the stance. At least things like balance and footwork she gets. Dance. Gymnastics. Cheerleading. Some of the principals aren't so different (some of them). Jack's stance is loyally copied. Her mood is certainly improved when she begins the game of trying not to be pushed over while pushing others over and such forth. Shane dips his head, a small nod, slow nod, less approving and more assessing as he watches this. At first he just leans up against Jack's side (LOOK how steadily he's bracing anyway HUH?) but after a short while drifts away to meander among the Ellin's, offering silent gestural correction or simply smiles when she has got it right. Eventually they will even move on to Actual Punching! And for a short time, maybe, the Infirmary might seem a little bit farther away.