ArchivedLogs:Putting Down Roots

Putting Down Roots
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Jackson, Jane, Jim, Shane
In Absentia	2013-01-14 Jim goes to ground.
Location <XS> Forest
Quiet and shady, the trees rise all around here high and thick. In stillness, woodland creatures make appearances, though sudden noises scare them back into the cover. Dappled sunlight filters down between the thick foliage, and the ground underfoot is heavily overgrown, though here and there paths have been worn, by deer or years of students wandering familiar trails. There's been time for surgery, and time for resting after surgery, and time for Jackson to call up his alma mater and explain the situation. It's only somewhen after all these things that finds him out in Westchester, bundled in coat and hat and bright rainbow scarf as he trudges through the ice-rimed trees that spread naked branches in a wide dark expanse around Xavier's school grounds. "Should be quiet out here, 'leastways. The faculty all knows what's up so won't nobody cause no trouble." Jim wanders alongside and slightly behind Jackson, one hand in his coat jacket, the other scratching a point next to his hung-open mouth. He'd already started this adventure scruffy and overgrown, and for all the time he'd spent in the morgue, it's hard to make scruffy look worse, beyond a smudge of bruising coloration beneath his eyes. His shirt is only partways tucked in, his shoes missing all together, their black-brown roughened texture seeming immune to the cold ground. The bark texture has spread down the backs of his hands and along the edges of his face, a few green shoots peeking through his dry-bristled hair. His head is tipped back, looking up through the canopy in a mix of exhaustion, skepticism and reluctant... interest? "You sure this place is uh." Uh, indeed. His teeth click pensively. "So, where is this?" Iolaus asks, curiously, as he looks around the forested expanse. He pauses, brow furrowing slightly as he glances around. "Wait, faculty?" He gives Jax a surprised look, blinking several times. "Then this is a school, or a college. One that is... accepting of mutants?" His hands lace together, and he bounces on the heels of his feet for a moment. "Officially supporting or unofficially?" he asks again, half of his questions coming to close together for him to have expected an answer. Several paces behind Iolaus, Jane is dressed in a warm camouflage jacket and glancing around at the trees suspiciously, as if they themselves might leap out and attack at any moment. Her lips are set in a thin line, and she is silent. "Yeah, m'sure," Jackson assures Jim, looking up as well. "I lived here for, uh. Pretty much most of -- since I manifested. They've seen /way/ weirder stuff than someone taking root." He tucks hands into his pockets, rocking back on a heel and glancing back to Jane warily. "It's a school," he answers. "One that's --" Another hesitation, another glance to Jane. "/For/ mutants. I mean. There's been a couple humans. Mostly kids of mutants or kids of faculty. Officially, but," he stresses, "not /publicly/." "No kiddin." Jim has probably been saying this a lot, absentmindedly, while he looks around. Trailing fingertips along various tree bases and over the tips of long grass. At first, this is to a general low detriment; reluctantly, with some tension easing in the perma-pinched lines around his eyes, there's a subtle wilting in and drying up of foliage. But one branch here, another, so faintly greens along its tips where shoots don't blossom open - but they seem to consider, optimistically. "How many acres /is/ this, anyway. I didn't even know this place was out here." Iolaus' surprise grows so much he stumbles for a moment. "A school... for mutants." he repeats, dumbly. Then excitement sparks into his face, and he has to physically bite his lip to keep from spewing forth words like an uncontrolled fountain. He takes a few, deep, breaths before he continues. "I see. A residential school, I assume. For what ages? Who does their medical care? Where do they get their funding?" he asks, a few questions slipping by his calm. Jane is expressionless at this announcement. It seems to interest her no more or less than if they had been discussing the weather. More of a reaction happens at Jackson's shiftiness, though, and she takes another step closer to Iolaus - just in case. Jackson's head turns, following the path of Jim's fingers against the trees; he lifts a hand to press his sunglasses further up onto his nose, and shrugs. "Uhhm. Y'know, I don't actually know? It's a lot. The trees stretch a ways and then if y'go the other way past the lake it goes off into the hills. But I ain't /quite/ sure where the school grounds /end/ in all that. Still, /this/ is all definitely school an' you're free to -- uh. Whatever y'need, sir. This time'a year s'too cold even for the kids to come out here s'much." His attention turns back to Iolaus, hand returning to his pocket again. "Yeah, s'a boarding school. Middle and high, technically. Once in a while younger kids turn up. Not many manifestin' that young but the real unstable ones can use help. School's got medical facilities an' doctors on staff." He doesn't answer the last question, only monitoring the others with subtle turns of his head. "Good deal..." Jim breathes, his crusty exterior drifting into a very tentative relaxation, palms opening to cup a few shifting shadows and the dapples of sunlight between them, spilling across the leafiness reaching upward towards the sun. He stops finally, sighings and returning to something more present-minded and instantly more wry, "Listen. I owe you two. I thought for sure I was gonna pop my clog this time around." Give him a second, he'll get to it - he scratches behind an ear, wincing towards Jackson, "And uh. Look, kid, what I said about your sunglasses. Uh." "Pop..." Iolaus is distracted from his curiosity about the school by this particular turn of phrase. He glances back over his shoulder to Jane, who gives him a blank look. In fact, he continues getting this blank look even after he turns back around. "It's no problem. I'm just sorry that you had to go through... not the best care possible. That is not exactly how I prefer to practice medicine, but... needs must, and all that." he says, with a sheepish smile. "Naw. I mean, you don't owe /me/ nothin' anyway. Just relax and get yourself better, aright?" Jackson's smile turns decidedly /also/ wry at Jim's last, hand lifting again to scruff into bright purple hair. "S'ok, sir. It /does/ look kind of --" He fidgets, uncomfortably, before instead finishing, "-- douchey. Um. Thanks," he adds to Iolaus. "I know that could've been -- bad for -- thanks." Despite Jax's assurance that not many students come out this time of year, there are feet making their way through the trees. Quickly, if none too loud, hurrying along icy dirt with a quiet crunch as the footsteps duck and weave between the trees on their way closer. "Yeah, but I probably shouldn't have, uh," Jim is saying kind of on top of Jackson, both of them kind of scruffling hands in their respective hair - bright purple, meet leafy gray-brown. He shrugs at Iolaus, smiling tight, "Hey, doc. I haven't tried a hospital in a few decades. You're a saint." He extends a hand, to clasp (raspy) palms with Iolaus, "You ever need anything, don't be a stranger." He's offering a business card as well. Or a... card. It's pretty cheap and unbusinesslike, in it's sparse contact information with James Morgan, Private Investigating. His head turns, slightly - did he hear something? Didn't he? He isn't certain. Behind him, Jane stops, head turning this way and that as she listens intently. Then she quickly crosses the gap between herself and Iolaus, grabbing him and hauling him behind her, so that she is bodily between him and the direction of the noise. "Show yourself, or I will drop you where you stand." she calls out in a rough voice, tone ringing with authority. A faint red screen snaps into existence in front of her, a sweeping half dome that starts a few feet forward of them and spreads a few feet in each direction. Little fissures of energy run over the shield like arcing on a high-voltage line, and her eyes snap back and forth, trying to locate the sound of running feet. "/Hey/." Now /Jackson/ moves, closer Jane and Iolaus with a sudden frown. "/Stop/ that." The normally easygoing cadence of his voice isn't -- harsh, exactly, but it's certainly a lot /firmer/ than before. "This is a /school/, miss, there's gonna be lots of people runnin' around. With all due respect, we've already /got/ a lot more security here than --" His fingers flick towards Jane, a thin line of worry compressing his lips. The running is getting closer, rather faster than most humans could manage it; it's a second later that Shane skids around a tree and -- skids further, scrabbling to a halt at the red dome fast enough that the heels of his sneakers dig into the dirt and he /would/ fall if he did not catch himself immediately against a tree. "Woahwhatthefuck is that dangerous you should be careful with that shit, woman, /Hey/ Jim are you a tree yet?" Jim's natural response to these types of situations is to scatter like a cockroach under the nearest baseboard. As it is, he very much looks ready to hoof it - Oh, hi, Shane. "Dunno, you a fucking shark yet?" He actually /is/ rather treeish, all rough skin save around face and inner hands, and with a wary look at his present company he throws out a /fistbump/, smirking, "Don't mind Miss Rambo here. How ya been?" "Easy, Jane." Iolaus chides, as he's grabbed and moved physically behind Jane. "Easy." Jane watches the boy carefully come into view, and after a brief assessment while he runs, her shield drops out of existence as quickly as it came, and she straightens out of the defensive posture. She snorts, once, shaking her head once as she turns and steps back to her previous position, a few steps back, with a derisive look at Jax. "Sorry," Iolaus says, tone the gently apologetic one of a pet owner whose puppy just had an accident on their friend's floor. "She's a little bit on edge, these days." All days. He tilts his head to one side as he studies the newcomer, eyes flickering over the blue teenager with some interest. "I think he is more of a, ah, 'fucking shark', than you are a tree, Jim." he points out, a determination which clearly required all of his years of medical knowledge and training. Jackson's attention stays steadily trained on Jane through her derisive look, and his tone does not soften. "I'm serious. You do something like that again, miss, I will /throw/ you out of here myself. The whole /point/ of this place is that it's /safe/." Rocking back onto a heel, he scrubs at his cheek with his knuckles. "Sorry, Shane. We're, uh, planting." Jim, apparently. His fingers wave towards the older man. Shane issues Jax a /drive-by/ waist squeeze of hug, heading out further to bump raspy knuckles against Jim's. "Been /shark/y," he answers (with a sharky /grin/), "I see you're not dead. Good job!" He gives Iolaus a thumbs-up for this. "Why do you have an /attack/ dog?" He's giving Jane a derisive look right /back/, although the way his is exaggerated makes it more mocking than -- mocking. Jim is getting a little planted. His bare feet are working deeper into the ground, roots expanding and working their way in amongst the other roots in the ground. His flourish as theirs wither back. Behold, the power of evolution, "Thanks. Been workin' at it. Looks like I'm gonna be loitering on the premises for a few. Not a bad place you got here." Like it's all just Shane's sweet pad. "Professional necessity." Iolaus says, with a bemused smile and a backwards glance to Jane. He is rewarded a glare for his trouble. "Iolaus Saavedro," he says, extending a hand to Shane with a smile. "It's a pleasure." He glances sideways to Jim for a moment, distracted momentarily by the other man's tree-ery. "Does that heal you?" he asks, curiously, attention well and truly gone. Jax oofs quietly at Shane's abrupt hugging, but answers it with an arm looped around the boy's shoulders to squeeze back. "There's a guest room available in the building to you," he tells Jim, "but only if y'want it. You can stay where you're comfortable." He settles back against a tree, arms crossing against his chest. "S'a good place. Saved /my/ life, I think." "Great, isn't it?" Shane's grin suggests he's fully willing to take credit for the Sweet Pad. "Hey, can you be /any/ kind of plant? Like what if I wanted roses. Or pot." He's leaning over to flick lightly at one of Jim's leaves, until Iolaus extends a hand. He squints at the offered hand, squints at Jane, and reaches to take the handshake with long claws extended, prickly in their grip. "The fuck kind of doctor needs bodyguards, that's weird, dude. 'Sides, you're, uh, /here/. This isn't the place for starting shit. I'm Shane." "Heals fast/er/," Jim says with a reflexive grimace on the topic, scruffing knuckles against the corner of his jaw and glancing off to the left, "Guess I kinda, uh, get first dibs on /growing/. Got my, y'know," he gestures up and down his middle-aged man-torso dispassionately, "/me/-amount of energy, yeah? And then I got - hey, buddy, hands off the greenery," he bats away Shane's flicking, "whatever I can pull in here and, uh," he gestures down at his feet, though they're harder to recognize as feet amongst the knots and rootery, "there. But I can /get at/ what other plants got, if I'm near them enough. That's why I'm upright and breathing, probably, and some /tree/ in Tompkins Square Park'll probably get torn up this spring. Cause it ain't coming back after what I took from it." To, y'know. Not die. SNORT. He side-eyes Shane, "If I could grow pot, you ain't gettin' any. I don't exactly like having shit ripped off me." He clicks his teeth, squinting up at the ceiling of branches, "...y'know, I never tried t'do anything. Spent most my time focusing on /not/ doing this shit." He doesn't look /entirely/ comfortable now. "Well, that's a useful skill. I mean, considering the alternative." Iolaus says, a small smile on his face. "I've found it does little good running from who you are, at least, from yourself." he turns towards Shane to answer his question with a tilted, bemused look. "The kind of doctor who treats mutants." Iolaus says, unabashedly. "And I've never been here before, so I wouldn't know, would I?" he says, chuckling. His handshake is firm but not over hard, and he smiles at Shane. Jane watches the handshake very, very carefully. "Who runs this school, anyway? Someone raised the money to run it, and I can imagine it cost... a significant amount of money, especially if you have physicians on staff." he says, glancing back to Jax. "I'd be very much grateful for the chance to meet both the medical team and the administrative team." "Yeah but your fucking dog's batshit crazy, dude, did you not /know/ this was a school? /For mutants/?" Shane is looking at Jane like perhaps she is exceptionally stupid. "No, I'd told them," Jackson assures Shane with a quick quirk of lips. "Be polite, though, Shane, ain't nobody here a dog. Iiit costs a lot, yeah, I'd guess, 'specially since most of the students ain't payin' much. I could prob'ly introduce you t'folks, sir, some time classes ain't classing." He mentions classes with a brief thoughtful frown at Shane, but no chiding. This assurance does nothing to help Shane's dubious expression. He turns away from Jane, slowly, to grin wide at Jim. "What if I /trim/ it off. Very /carefully/. Is there plant anesthetic? You could have a lucrative operation. Make enough to get yourself a new fuckin' jacket." "There's no fucking plant anesthesia," though now Jim looks thoughtful, hooking his thumbs into his back belt loops. "I mean. I could always just grow /other/ plants." Demonstration comes entirely without flourish - he /swats/ at a nearby winter bramble. It swings away brown, swings back greener. While much of the conversation continues, he frowns at the few healthy leaves dubiously, and cups a hand under them as though inspecting a pawnshop watch for any sign of authenticity. The green buds horning up around his wrist and knucklebacks begin, gradually, to take on the shape of the bramble leaves. His jaw requires a tightening for the concentration. "I'd appreciate that very much, Jax." Iolaus says, flashing him a bright smile. "Let me know. I don't want to be a bother." he says, eyes flicking over to Jim to watch him plantinate. "I don't know. There's no plant anesthesia, because most plants don't have nervous systems... but there's no reason some of the normal pain-killers wouldn't also work on plants, I imagine. I'd have to..." he trails off, glancing between Shane and Jim. A brief, awkward pause. "That was not a serious request, was it." It is not a question. Jane gives Shane a sharp look and a tight smile that might have as much metaphorical teeth behind it as his smiles quite literally do. She tilts her neck from one side to the other, muscles cracking once, twice. "What about water plants? Can you be a seaweed? I'd eat you," Shane says. Bizarrely /amiably/. "Pot aside, I bet you'd make more money growing strawberries in winter and selling them fresh around the city. -- sure, why not serious? Numb him up. I'll pluck him." "Doubt it'd be a bother," Jackson says, though he doesn't sound sure of this. "I mean, if you're really gonna do what you're planning to do I think they'd be glad to help. There's not so many people out there that /do/, and," he adds wryly, "most of them already work with us here." "Yeahno, I almost ralfed in the back of your car from the last shit you gave me, doc," Jim says with /all/ affection to Iolaus, "Think I'm gonna sit that test out, thanks. And for /your/ information?" He turns on Shane! "I happen t'like this jacket." That's /why/ he keeps... patching it. On the elbows. With mismatched thread. "Somehow don't think a lotta people are gonna want strawberries some hairy cuss grew amongst his backhair. I don't wanna hear you use the word 'pluck' in conjunction with me pretty much ever again." Pause. Because there are few /other/ things wrong with what's come out of Shane's face and he has to decide which one gets the most immediate attention. Answer: distraction. "/Waterplants/." What. "Well, I'd appreciate it." Iolaus presses, smiling. "I mean..." he shrugs, glancing around the forest. "We both, I think, can use all the help that we can get in these trying times." he says, tone going serious despite his smile. He steps towards Jax, voice murmuring in the other man's ear. "We have started encountering the beginnings of some resistance among the donor pool. Nothing definite yet, but..." he shakes his head, lips thinning. "Someone is poisoning the well." "You don't have to /tell/ them," Shane says patiently. "Say it's natural. Organic. You just /plucked/ them fresh that morning. Uh," he adds, secondarily, "you know. Plants. That live in water. There's a fuckton of them. Can you be one of those? Fish would nibble you, though. But I guess there's plenty of land-things that would eat you up here, too." He shrugs. And chomps teeth in Jim's direction. Nibblenibble... chomp? "Ain't easy, that's for sure," Jax says with a shrug. "And, I mean, we're not even /open/ about what we do. S'just a school. Manage to find our share of problems anyhow. Bet they'd be tenfold if we, er, came outta the closet." Iolaus's murmuring earns a wry twist of lips, his quiet answer, "Might have found the beginnings of resistance but I'll wager it's a /long/ time till you find its /end/. Got any idea where s'coming from?" "Or not." Jim says, scrubbing at the corner of an eye. Then, because we're apparently asking invasive questions (or, because the one thing as inquisitive as a teenager is a private investigator), he volleys, "The hells the deal with those, anyway? You grow teeth back if they come out?" "Not yet. One of my colleagues is doing some digging. She used to do the business side of an abortion clinic somewhere in the south, so she's no stranger to people trying to shut down her fundraising." Iolaus says, though his smile is rather fixed around the edges. He glances back to Jim and Shane, but his gaze returns back to Jax quick enough. "Still. I can imagine you see why Jane is a little bit more on edge than she normally is. A little." he says, a wry smile. "It's not too much far from her norm." "Whatthefuckever, paranoiaman," Shane answers Iolaus, "I can understand it once you're /public/ or whatever but dude nobody knows your /name/ let alone your face. Do you know," he says, with all evident seriousness, gesturing between himself and Jackson, "we /both/ have people who've hunted us -- specifically -- down, tranq'd us and locked us in cages for months? And. Somehow. We still don't wander around with rabid dogs. -- Yeah." He nods at Jim. "They come out kinda a lot. And they grow back. Bark up all you want, my teeth can handle a /lot/." Jax is just. Scrubbing his face. Tiredly. As Shane speaks. "Like." Jim is looking a little edgily over his shoulder, "...at different times? That shit happen around here a lot?" Iolaus glances at Shane with a frown. "You know lots of pain and little of caution, it seems." he says, voice hardening slightly. "And you are making false suppositions. Just because my work is not open, yet, does not mean people do not know my name nor my face." he crosses his arms over, giving Jax an apologetic look. He frowns at Shane further. "I was not aware that you were, but, I was aware of the incidents occurring in general." "Iiii know a pretentious douchebag when I see one, though," Shane says. /Cheerfully/. "Met as many of /them/ as I have sickass bigots. -- No." He's firm on this, shaking his head to Jim. "Not around here. In the city. /Here's/ where I come when I want to /be/ safe." Jackson is still scrubbing his face. This time his fingers rub up beneath his sunglasses, digging at the skin beneath. He slings an arm around Shane's shoulders. "We should get back," he says. "I /know/ you've got class, hon. Jim, you need anything? Doctor, you ready to go?" "Nah," for a moment, default wariness returns to Jim's scruffy features, and while it's Jackson he answers, it's Shane he's listening to, jaw set, eyes grim. He gives his surroundings another last glance, and sighs, saying again more clearly, "Nah, kid, I'm alright. Thanks for, uh -- all this. I'll check these guest quarters in a bit, but I'm bushed." Har har. Though he only notices the pun after he says it, eyes closing. "Gonna go to ground a bit. Longest fucking day of my life." Or... more than one day. He leans a shoulder heavily on a nearby tree, the bark edging further over his face, making the pale blue in his eyes stand out alarmingly stark against darker skin. "Doc, you drive save, yeah? And you." Shane gets a look. Then a smirk. He tosses out a hand, "Save me a tooth next time. I'll make a god damn necklace. Chicks dig that shit." Iolaus' frown thins further and he nods at Jackson. "I'm ready, Jax." he says, turning his back pointedly on Shane. Jane steps forward now that the conversation has slowed, taking up position once more slightly behind Iolaus, eyes sweeping from side to side, continuously evaluating for... god knows what. Shane /gnashes/ his teeth towards that hand in response, head turning towards Jim to chompchompchomp. But he leans into Jax's side with a decided /warmth/ to his toothy smile. "Class. /God/, what /are/ you, my /dad/." He's already starting back towards the school. Tugging /Jax/ along like it was his idea. "Aright. You got my number," Jax totally gave it to him at some point, honest! "you let me know if -- anything. Folks here'll do you right, though. And the boys know what's what." His mouth is a little thin as he looks from Shane to Iolaus, but he is quiet as he starts along back. Jim pulls back his hand /mighty/ quick, laughing. And then he exhaustedly closes his eyes, which makes the bark settling in place of skin across his face seems to seal off. When he crosses his arms and ankles, leaning more heavily against the tree, he seems more a clever carving than a human. "See ya around, folks." The mass of tree growth says with a last lingering snort. And this man is getting some REST.