ArchivedLogs:Questionable News

Questionable News
When good news goes bad
Dramatis Personae Mallory, Thomas	2014-03-21 Good news? and some conversation.
Location <XS> Teachers' Lounge
Running a school for mutant teenagers just taking control of their powers is not an easy job, and the teachers at Xavier's deserve a place to come and relax. This lounge is their place to come and de-stress, and it does not skimp for relaxation. The room is elegant and luxurious, plush couches making up the seating in the lounge and a glossy glassy bar wrapping around one wall, well-stocked with alcohol (and perpetually fresh-brewed coffee, for those so inclined.) A large-screen high-def television hangs on one wall, stocked with about as many movies and games as the childrens' rec room upstairs. High bookshelves hold a wealth of books. The fridge here is always well stocked, and the cook is always willing to make deliveries down to this level. Far in the back, a hot tub is submerged into the floor, for still more unwinding. More days than not, there's some variety of snacks to be found on perched on an end of the bar -- quite often in the form of fresh-baked desserts. Spring break seems to have passed by far too quickly, and with the chaos on Tuesday, the first few days of classes have breezed by almost as fast as break had. With things finally calming down as Friday draws to a close, the teacher’s lounge is largely empty, many of the faculty having opted for a nice night out on the first full day of Spring. Not all, though, it would seem. Seated atop one of the bar stools, Mallory is still dressed for the work day, despite it being nearly dinner time; a black pencil skirt, modified to let her tail loose in the back, paired with a soft gold silk blouse, a simple gold chain around her neck holds a small black stone in a scrolled setting. Mallory’s long hair has been loosed from the bun that it had been in earlier in the day, falling in long uneven waves to her mid-back, the hair tie encircling her right wrist for safe keeping Sitting on the counter beside her is a tote bag made of brightly colored materials, sewn together in a patchwork pattern. The librarian is lost in thought, somewhat shielded so that only occasional snippets - names, dates, or oddly enough, colorful patterns and flower names - leak out to be picked up. A glass of deep red wine sits half forgotten on the bar in front of her, while she leans over a white binder, tapping at it with a pencil while she mulls over the contents. Making his way into the teacher’s lounge, Thomas is dressed in a dark button up shirt and trousers with a labcoat over top of it. Some variety of protein bar is stuck half eaten out of his mouth as he focuses thought on the tablet in front of his eyes. Cycling through his thoughts are images of molecular structures and protein chains and the chemicals different between the two. As intrusions of flowers and names intrude, he blinks looking up and smiles slightly. << Ah, I had known you were back, but had not assumed you would be here. Drinking alone is the sign of being a nerd you know. >> Chuckling, Thomas sets the protein bar down on the bar top with his tablet and pours himself a gin and tonic before settling on a bar stool himself. “It becomes social drinking when someone sits with you. So, did you enjoy your vacation?” He tilts his head, but there is a feeling that he is preparing a mental wall in case of any oversharing of what might have Happened on the trip with her boyfriend. “Mine was not so exciting. Helping students with some extra credit assignments mainly.” Mallory looks up as Thomas enters the lounge, a brilliant smile lighting her features, greeting with an excited, “Thomas!” She waits for him to sit before leaning over to wrap an arm around him in a tight hug, still grinning brightly. << Brother of mine. I had meant to come see you much earlier in the week. Apologies for that. >> she offers, releasing him from the hug and << Jet lag is awful, but it’s even worse when there is no jet to nap on. I’ve barely gotten back into a normal sleep pattern. >> The statement is punctuated and enforced by a wide, sleepy yawn, which she attempts to hide by pressing the back of her hand to her lips. “It was amazing. Just, all of it was amazing,” she beams, sitting up straighter and fidgeting briefly with something on her hand, just out of sight. Closing the binder she was working in, Mallory shuffles it under the tote bag, before reaching in and fishing out a sizable wooden box, fashioned after an old style crate. “A souvenir for you. From the Suresh family Assam plantation,” she says proudly, pushing the decorative little crate over towards Thomas. It has been branded with a calligraphic design in Devanāgarī script, with a harvest date and number beneath it. Mallory continues grinning happily, a sense that she wants to say something more, but holding back until after Thomas checks out the tea. Thomas leans into the hug, then smirks at the jetlag commentary. << Hm, true. I don’t know how the teleporters and other travelers manage it. But I guess they don’t have to worry too much. >> He shrugs slightly with the thought then sips at his gin and tonic with the happiness she projected. “I’m glad vacation went well. I know you didn’t really get to do it much… before. I guess India doesn’t mind people like us so much.” When she hands over the box, Thomas examines it curiously till the word assam filters through his mind, then he tilts the box open to take a sniff. “Mmm, this does smell good. I’ll have to see about making a pot soon. I’ll even share it with you, in hopes you get over your obsession with your horrid tea.” He runs fingers over the pretty calligraphy, and offers a mental amusement. << Gee, if this is what your lightning bug brings to the table maybe you should marry him. I could get used to tea this good. >> << Honestly don’t know. Cannot say it is my favorite method of travel, but goodness, the views are amazing, and the freedom to travel. It’s… >> Mallory trails off and sighs wistfully, grinning, the mental image of the Eiffel Tower, and Paris at night being shared with Thomas. She picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, light glinting briefly off a new ring on her left hand. “It was amazing. And… India is about the same, policy and reaction wise, but we were on his family’s plantation, so it was safe. Did not exactly go sight seeing while there, sadly,” Mallory explains, setting her wine glass back down, “Another time.” She watches her twin inspecting the tea, shifting slightly to face him with a raised eyebrow. “You should see the actual plantation. It’s relatively small, but it was amazing to see the process,” Mallory chuckles, snorting and sticking her tongue out at him, “I had some in India, thank you very much, and liked it just fine. Still like my Earl Grey, though.” Mallory actually startles, slightly, blinking at Thomas when he offers up the mental joke, a nervous smile twitching on her lips. << Well, um, actually… >> she responds, a blush rising to her cheeks as she holds out her hand, actually drawing attention to the modest diamond and fire-opal ring now there. << That was sort of the idea. >> << I hope you haven’t had as much trouble with igniting because of him. I guess it’s not a fun method of travel if you end up torching every time. I think I’d rather suffer through the flight. Unless there are babies on the flight. >> Thomas nods a bit, smiling at the mental image shared. “Glad you had fun even if you stayed on the plantation. I guess it wouldn’t be much different than staying at home, aside from more land and fresher tea.” Thomas things a bit, swirling his glass with the glass fogging in his hands. “Tea production is fairly interesting at least. But I can’t say as I have much of a mind towards the process of it.” With the blush and comment, he almost does a spit take, putting his hand to his mouth in time to stop it. << I didn’t Mean it. I was just… >> letting out a sigh he looks over the ring with an appraising eye. << Well it’s pretty at least. And you seem happy. But you guys really hadn’t been together that long. Are you sure? >> << It isn’t a perfect travel method, no. But we’ve been working with Hank to help me be able to suppress it better. Painful, but manageable. >> Mallory explains, managing to keep from sharing the terrifying chest pain that results from the jumps. << You don’t have a tail to deal with. I hate flying. Those seats are not made for non-human anatomy. >> Mallory snorts, shaking her head and grinning behind a sip of wine. “Oh, it was quite different. His family was amazingly welcoming and accepting. I,” she hesitates, smiling, a sense of apology flooding over their link as she speaks, “It was the first time I’d really been /part/ of that sort of a huge family gathering. Instead of watching from the windows.” The reaction to the engagement announcement catches Mallory by surprise, and she hesitates, a flinch of hurt on her features for just a moment. << You may not, but I do mean it, >> Mallory mentally mumbles, glancing up at Thomas with an arched eyebrow. There’s a distinct sense of worry to her thoughts, memories flashing briefly of their parents, the last time she saw them - fear that she’ll lose Thomas now, too. “I know… it seems fast. But everything we’ve gone through, survived, seen? We’ve been there for each other and, well, it just feels right,” Mallory admits, smiling down at the ring, shifting it a little bit so that it catches and plays in the light, “I’m sure.” << Those seats are barely made for people with human anatomy. I’m just thankful that I’m thinner than most anyway. I can actually sit comfortably. >> Finishing off the rest of his gin and tonic, Thomas watches the remaining ice melt away in the glass in his hand. “Sounds nice. Though I can’t speak much for the gatherings I had to participate in being all that pleasant. Sit still, be quiet. Don’t sweat too much. Be careful of my cap.” The vocalizations matching with a mental approximation of mother’s nagging. << It’s just unexpected is all. Its not something you generally expect to hear all of a sudden. >> Thomas offers a placating thought to try and assuage the hurt feelings. “If you want to. You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions and such. And it’s not as if you’ll need to worry about getting approval from mum and dad.” He lets out a sigh, draining down the melt water and glancing to his tablet. “If the registration wasn’t as heinous at home as it was I’m sure they’d have a lovely blind girl lined up for me who wouldn’t know I was a freak. And even then, I don’t even know If I can have kids ya know? Proteins denature at a temperature much lower than my standard. It’s too damn much a bother to even be thinking about.” << Fair enough. Been one one plane in my life - the one that brought me here last year. I’d rather avoid another flight. >> Mallory grimaces, her tail lashing unhappily at the memory of being trapped in the the uncomfortable position for the near eight hour long flight. “I know. It seemed nice from the outside, I suppose? Sit still, be quiet, stay out of sight, don’t run, don’t talk to people,” Mallory parrots, offering a sad smile, reverberating the nagging back at him. “It was nice,” Mallory sighs with a shrug. << Understood. Caught me a bit by surprise when he asked, even though we’d talked about it before. Pleasantly by surprise. >> Mallory admits, sharing another view of Paris at night, the unexpected stop over, and the empty viewing platform of the Eiffel Tower, the happiness almost palpable in the memory. “Thank you, Thomas,” she says, leaning over to headbonk her brother, smiling again. << Eesh. That may help with the gray… but you’d still have a bit of an issue with, y’know >> Mallory reaches up to scratch at her own horn, indicating what else she meant. “And the fact you’re considerably warmer than… normal…” Mallory adds, trailing off with a confused look at the mention of kids, a moment of dread panic clutching her thoughts, memories of conversations of the future. “What? Proteins do…?” she questions, her mind calling up thoughts of steaks and protein shakes, confused at the correlation with having children. Thomas nods at the assessment of the situation, considering both of their situations crappy together. He gets up and goes behind the counter to pull out a bottle of rum and clean cups for both of them, pouring some in straight. “Might want something stronger.” He does smile at the Eiffel tower proposal. “A romantic artsy proposal at least. It’s the kind of thing you’d like at least.” He sips the black rum a moment, and shrugs at the horns factor. << Just means I don’t let her touch my head. Everything else can probably be explained away, and I could mist an alcohol swab over things before she touches anything...well, if its going to be a brief touch at least. Anything longer would be a problem. >> Thomas seems to pause at the panic and the proteins question, draining more of the harder alcohol before answering, but chemical and biological equations pass through his head as if trying to think of a better way to answer. “You remember when I swapped to chemistry from biology? How I was complaining in the emails about things being impossible and answers didn’t exist there?” He didn’t expect her to, but he said it anyway. “Well, okay, a lot of cells in the body...well they don’t do well with heat. It’s why people get so worried about massive fevers. Once you hit a certain point the body kinda will break down at the cellular level. I’m Way way over that level.” He is gesturing with the cup at this point, the gesture well over his head. “Anyway, obviously my body works, despite the heat. But, that doesn’t mean All of it works the way it ought to. I mean, like you turn to plasma. I become a gas. There Aren’t cells remaining, and I’ve done studies of my smoke state. It’s lacking many of the chemicals that are inherent to the necessity of a cell existing. It’s just not there, I assume consumed in the thermal reaction.” He shrugs at that, pausing to see if she’s catching what he’s saying. Mallory accepts the glass of rum, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and then raising the glass in a salute to her twin, “Thanks.” She sips the rum appreciatively, listening to Thomas’s plans, mentally cataloging just how many times a day she ruffles Aloke’s hair or some other form of contact like that. The second part of it gets a loud, hearty laugh, and she thankfully manages to block out the mental response she initially had. “Thomas. I can point out some /very/ obvious, potentially problematic flaws in that plan, brother of mine. You… that’s… but. Right. Just…” she falters over words, keeping a mental block - a few of the French Countryside, solidly in place while she talks aloud. Finishing off her glass of wine before she starts in on the rum, << Be yourself. Parents be damned. You’ll be happier for it. >> “Vaguely, yes,” Mallory nods, sipping her rum and gesturing for him to continue, “I know you were frustrated, but anyway. Go on.” Listening, Mallory does what she can to follow along - surprisingly well, all things considered. “But… we don’t break down on a normal basis? Our bodies handle it just fine, relatively speaking,” she puzzles, holding her rum and quickly turning it into a warmed spice rum drink, which she sips slowly, “So, no body means no proteins? I mean, I get that, but…” She scratches at the root of one of her horns, trying to make connections that just aren’t quite there for her yet, << But other than ‘don’t be on fire while pregnant’...? I don’t quite get the connection. Sorry - I can’t say biology was my forte, ever. >> << Myself is very nerdy and surly. Maybe I can be someone else. >> Thomas shakes his head then offers a shrug. Frowning a little at the questions, he runs a finger along the rim of his glass. “Our normal muscle, neuron and fat cells do not break down. But think about the fact that… well reproductive traits are only Partial in the first place. Half an equation you know?” He seems a bit frustrated as he searches for plain words that also won’t be too awkward to say to his sister. “I don’t even know if the gametes will contain encodable genome sequences. Ya know, shooting blanks?” He blushes a bit then shakes his head again. “Its not like they are cells of our bodies. They’re partial cells meant to mix with other external partial cells in the hope that a full sequence becomes possible. It just might not Work period.” << Pfft. Don’t sell yourself short. Especially not before you’ve tried. >> Mallory snorts, taking a pull from her rum as she listens more. It’s slow, but realization dawns over her features, and she looks decidedly crestfallen by the end of his explanation. “Oh,” is her only response after a long moment, draining the last of her rum in one long drink. Her mental block remains in place, shielding Thomas from the majority of the panic and hurt, the worry racing through her thoughts, though some does make it across. “Right. I… I should probably go. Just about dinner time, after all,” she says, her voice shaky as she stands. << Thank you, Thomas. I’ll talk to you later, okay? >> Mallory offers, stooping to hug her brother, a barely notable tremble in the gesture << Have a good evening, brother mine. >> Thomas looks to Mallory for a moment, the concern he has written easily on his face. << I’m sorry. I… I thought you knew. >> He exhales, and pours himself another full glass of rum, staring into the dark fluid. “I had sorta guessed at it back in college. But well, its not something you really want to get Answered completely. If you don’t know the answer, it may be a good one or a bad one.” Pulling in a mouthful of the alcohol, he lets it sit heavy on his tongue, fumes drifting out of his nostrils. << Ask Hank perhaps. Or another doctor. I don’t want your heart broken before you know the truth one way or another. >>