ArchivedLogs:Making Splashes

Making Splashes
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Marinov, Matt
In Absentia	2017-06-11 Who isn't a terrorist, these days?
Location <XS> Lake
Bright, bright, bright; the lake glitters wide and expansive here, stretching off into the distance. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight, it catches them all. Lapping at the rocky shore, its deep waters are frigid in winter and cool even in summer. A stone pier stretches out a ways into the water, wide and smooth, though often icy in winter. The water teems with life nevertheless, home to myriad species of fish that provide for ample fishing or just lazy watching on a slow summer day, for those who want to take a boat from the boathouse out to the center of the lake, or perhaps lounge on the pier and try their luck. The sun is starting to get low on the horizon, a slight breeze barely managing to disturb the mirror-like surface of the lake. A towel and a cellphone lay on the shore of the beach, the phone occasionally vibrating with a notification but otherwise makes no sound. What disturbs the surface and the silence a little bit more, though, is one of the students enjoying the warm day. Marinov wears a one-piece bathing suit in an ironically leopard print pattern, which might have a bit of a jarring effect at first glance. They break the surface of the water by running and leaping off the end of the pier into the water, immediately starting the swim back in a practiced doggy paddle to shore to repeat this. Looking /much/ improved from his previous appearance at graduation, Matt is wig-less as he ambles down from the mansion toward the lake, the reddish twilight glinting off of his bald pate. He's wearing a heather gray Xavier's School t-shirt, black shorts (more subtly marked with the school's circled-X logo), and black athletic sandals. "{...grown rather complacent in my absence, I think,}" he's been saying, his French glib and casual, with a strong Quebecois lilt and peppered with English. "{Could take a page or three from the Prometheus raid team's training regimen.}" When he spots Marinov, he smiles brightly and waves. "Evening, Marinov! How's the water?" Lucien looks rather less casual than his brother -- neatly tailored pale linen trousers, a light green seersucker button-down, brown boat shoes. "{So you were keeping them all in line, then?}" His voice is warm with amusement, even if his expression is a study in neutrality as he looks down at the screen of his phone, rapidly swiping out an email. His eyes lift at the sound of splishing water ahead of them, eyes dropping to the lake. His head tips upward a moment later in greeting, quiet though accompanied by a small curl of smile. Marinov starts walking out of the water when they get close enough to the shore again to touch with their feet. "Privyet, Mr. T! The water's nice after having been out and running and climbing all evening. Good cool off. And you know me, making splashes wherever I go." The smack the surface of the water with a hand demonstratively and then add, "You're looking better. You're gonna make Prof X sweat in the 'who wore it best' contest." To Lucien, they offer a wave as well, adding, "Privyet, Lucien! Guessing you're not out for a swim this evening." "Hm..." Matt studies the smooth surface of the water, stroking his chin. "Tempting, especially after a workout... But then I would have to change /again./" He smiles broader at Marinov's observation. "Merci, and I /feel/ much better, too. I hope there isn't /much/ of a contest..." He runs a hand over his scalp without any evident self-consciousness. "I like to imagine I wear it pretty well. You are finally finding the time to relax, yes?" "{I could bring you a change of clothing if you really wanted.}" Lucien's lips twitch slightly upward at Marinov's words, his eyes flitting briefly to his brother. "{Please tell me this one is in your classes. They seem like they would appreciate your humour.}" His brows lift just slightly at the question to him, though. He glances to the lake, then down at his clothes. "Ah --" A brief pause, one hand brushing absently over the (crisply ironed) front of his trousers as he shakes his head. To Matt's senses there's a very careful inward tightening across the surface of his mind. "Alas --" His brows crease just slightly before he lapses back into French with a small discomfited shift of posture, "{These are not my swimming trousers, no.}" "Yeah. Exams are done with, so I've just been taking advantage of this break time. Got a little time to just breathe and do some sewing." Marinov crouches down and shakes off as soon as they are back out of the water, scattering droplets out of their fur. "Spending maybe a bit more of my break on campus than I planned. Those sentinels are fucking wild. They've gotta pull that shit off the street," they say, making a chopping gesture with their hand. Their ears tilt towards Lucien as they attempt to make out and understand what he's saying, but the gestures carry meaning well enough. "I wouldn't want to jump in with most of my outfits either." "{You could,}" Matt agrees easily, his smile pulling sideways. "{And it does look /so/ inviting.}" His powers ghost over Lucien's, tracing them closely but not interfering. "Oh, you figured out what he was saying, but honestly that sounds like defeatist to /me/." Brows rising up, he switches seamlessly to ASL, 'They are not in any of my classes /yet/, but there's always time, and those mandatory history requirements.' He frowns now. 'Have you had trouble with the robots?' Lucien's eyebrows quirk upward, his hand tipping outward to the water. /He/ stays firmly on the pier, slipping his phone back into his pocket. The set of his shoulders eases slightly with Matt's switch into sign, eyes straying back to the lake (and the student in it.) 'They do seem to be operating somewhat -- outside their parameters. /Have/ you had trouble with them?' Marinov's eyes flick between Matt and Lucien, and they switch to sign as well, 'I was getting told off by police for loitering with friends. They told me to move along. The sentinels said we were being detained, pointed their weapons at us. Then one of the cops got jumpy with his gun.' They hop up to sit on the edge of the pier, legs dangling into the water. 'Shot darts at some pregnant woman,' adds Marinov, teeth baring for a moment at the memory, 'Getting stopped for bullshit reasons is nothing new. But the sentinels made everything worse.' Matt's eyes go wide at Marinov's recounting of the incident, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. 'That's awful! I'm sorry that happened, and I hope no one came out of it seriously hurt.' His head shakes once, disgusted. 'I didn't think any /good/ would come of these robots, but thought...maybe they wouldn't be much worse than the human cops. Seems quite the opposite.' Even so, he's stripping off his t-shirt and tossing it to his brother. Then, almost as an afterthought, pulls his wallet and phone from the pockets of his shorts and hands them over, as well. The warmth of the sunset glow makes his pallor look a bit /less/ unhealthy. A bit. Lucien snags Matt's shirt out of the air, starting to fold it carefully, though briefly interrupted -- derailed -- starting again when he has to pause to collect Matt's phone and wallet as well. He does eventually set these things down in a neat pile, though, pulling out his own phone again already to start tapping at it. 'When was was this?' Absently curious. Added afterwards: 'That does sound unfortunate. Goodness, they have been racking up a list of misadventures.' His brows are creasing deeply. 'Quite a list.' 'They shot the woman. She was someone I saw around a few times at Evolve. I don't know her well. But I read that she is alive. They say she is a terrorist but not sure I trust the media on that. Everyone else was just shaken up.' Their ears flatten back and then perk back up. 'A few days ago, Wednesday.' They shrug a shoulder lightly and kick a bit more in the water before they rise up to their feet again. As an afterthought, they add: 'But now it is a good day for swimming and the robots are away from here.' Matt sucks in a deep breath. 'Terrorist. They say that about a lot of people. In a way the word has lost its meaning.' He nods, slow, meditative. 'We were camping, away from civilization and Internet, for a couple of days. Just in time to miss the news when it first broke, I guess. I hope they pull those things off the streets, soon.' He's using his /toes/ to undo the ladderlocks on his sandals all the while. 'But no. No robots. No cops. Just the lake and a lovely sunset. Excuse me for a moment?' He doesn't actually wait for a reply, but backs up a couple of steps and, whooping, executes a running cannonball into the lake, splashing bright water up to catch the twilight glow. 'Who isn't a terrorist, these days? Honestly, it takes so little. Rescue some children --' Lucien's frown is deepening. After a pause, '-- Blow up an entire police warehouse.' The slight purse of his lips looks vaguely impressed. He tips his phone slightly toward his chest, the only concession to Matt's impending cannonball; one finger flicks a stray droplet of water off the back of it (though he doesn't bother brushing any off /himself/) afterwards. Tucking his phone back into his pocket: 'It /is/ quite a lovely sunset, isn't it?' He looks down at the pair in the lake -- then at Matt's small pile of belongings. Quietly, fingers drumming at his pocket, he turns to head back up toward the mansion. He /did/ promise Matt dry clothing, after all.