From X-Men: rEvolution
Dramatis Personae

Anette, B


"Maybe I've just gotten in the habit of thinking everyone thinks like me."


<BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island

The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members.

Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape.

It's mid-afternoon, oddly pleasant on the island given the ongoing apocalypse happening on the mainland. Warm sunshine streaming through the lacy-curtained windows, soft classical music playing on the speakers in the common room. One tiny blue sharkpup, dressed in pleated yellow skirt and ribbed yellow tank top, thick warm pink thigh-high socks and matching thick armwarmers, curled up in a beanbag with hir laptop nearby, a metallic cobalt-blue dragonfly robot perched on her shoulder and one half of a set of earbuds in hir ears, the other dangling out unused. A holographic interface is spread out in front of hir; there's 3-D video playing of someone standing at a blackboard talking, together with a whole lot of other windows. Email, webcomics, a few different terminals with a lot of code.

The main door opens and Anette slips in. Oddly enough, she's covered in a thin sheen of sweat with flushed cheeks and her hair tied off into a pony-tail, tell-tale signs of a recent work out. She's also wearing a t-shirt and shorts though oddly enough is barefoot. She seems to be in an altogether good mood, glancing briefly towards the couch as she notices a presence. It takes a split second to recognize who it is though and when she does, she freezes instantly. Yellow eyes lock on the shark-pup, very much resembling nature videos when a bird of prey stumbles across prey. This only lasts a few moments before she gives a faint wave, turning and making her way to the kitchen. She returns a few seconds later with a glass of ice water, settling down at a table and sipping it slowly.

B's nostrils twitch when Anette enters the room. Against the sides of hir neck, hir gills give a faint flutter, brief before they press back down to the sides of hir neck again. She /doesn't/ look up, though; hir lips press very slightly together and she lifts the second dangling earbud to tuck it into her ear. Her shoulders have tightened up, a hard tension to her muscles, a clench to the set of her jaw.

Anette takes a large gulp of water, watching B curiously as they begin blocking her out, with ear buds and lowered eyes. She presses her lips together, trying to figure out the best way to approach this situation considering the various complications. Finally, she just goes ahead and blurts out, "Lo Siento. Es Tut Mir Leid. Pardon." One of them is bound to get her message across.

The dragonfly on B's shoulder wakes up, at least a little bit -- shortly after Anette speaks some of its sensors glow. B's gills flutter, a faintly annoyed look crossing her face a moment later. She doesn't take her earbuds out -- when she answers, it's in a somewhat listless Vietnamese, her tone quiet and tired. Shortly after she is through speaking, the /dragonfly/ speaks -- though only to ask in a pleasant robotic voice: "Language preference?"

Anette raises a brow as the dragofly speaks but she answers simply "German". She takes another gulp of water as she watches B continue whatever they're doing. 'Still think I'm the devil and a burden and threat to the Brotherhood?' she asks in German rather casually, with no tone suggesting anger or otherwise.

B still doesn't look up, though hir gills are fluttering faster. Hir fingers are moving rapidly against a holographic keyboard in front of hir; this doesn't pause as she speaks again, still in quiet Vietnamese. When the dragonfly speaks once more, it is in German this time: "{As a matter of fact, I don't generally think about you much at all.}"

Anette gives a light shrug. 'Fair enough,' she responds. 'Just thought I'd see where we're at. Since my last attempt failed.' She stretches out her wings and flutters them slightly, creating a gentle breeze that she uses to cool herself off. 'Got enough on my plate now, just seeing how badly I burned this bridge and I still need to worry about it.'

B lifts a webbed hand, rubbing her palm against her face. The tired quiet tone of her voice does not change as she continues in Vietnamese again. Her shoulders have not gotten any less tense. The dragonfly's German rendering is, once again, pleasantly calm and monotone: "{Your last attempt where you threatened my life again, told me you hate me and called me a traitor? I can't imagine how that went badly.}" While the dragonfly has been translating, B has been watching her computer, frowning uncertainly as she adds notes to some of her code. There's a delay before she speaks again, the bot mildly announcing for her: "{I'm not sure what you ever had to be worried about. Only /one/ of us here was ever threatening murder.}"

'Well...maybe I've just gotten in the habit of thinking everyone thinks like me,' Anette rattles off, taking another large gulp of water. 'If it makes a difference, only one of those still applies.' Which one it is remains unsaid. 'Look, I tried to apologize and call a truce last time and you refused to take it. Just thought I'd give it another shot.'

The flutter of B's gills settles down, now. The hairless ridge of her brows lifts. There's a faintly sharper tone to her rapid Vietnamese -- though only faintly. The change in tone doesn't make it through to the continued level calm of the robotic translation. "{It really doesn't. And apologies generally involve apologizing. I couldn't possibly have accepted an apology because you never actually gave one.}" Her head shakes, quick. She folds her laptop closed, sliding it onto her lap. The actual display -- terminals and videos and all -- do not change. "{'I hate you but I'm not going to kill you' isn't an apology. For the record.}"

Anette takes a deep breath, cletching a fist tightly for a few moments before releasing once the frustration has dissipated. 'Fine. I'm sorry. Better? I was in a bad place when it...all began. I was still in bad place when I tried to talk to you last time. Now...well, I'm not doing much better. But I've had a lot of time to think. I'm sorry.' She sets her glass down on the table, resting a hand down and drumming her talons against it rhythmically. 'Accept or don't but try and come up with something better than semantics not to accept.'

B's eyes slide closed as Anette's fist clenches. She stands, laptop held tight against hir chest; its projected display rises along with hir, float in the air near her side. The dragonfly shifts, humming into the air to hover by her shoulder. When she speaks again her tone has just dropped back into tired -- though this, again, is lost in the robotic translation that follows. "{It's not semantics, it's substance. What are you even apologizing /for/? Because sitting there going on about how you hate me, /still/ making excuses for your behavior, /complaining/ when I don't respond to your apology the way /you/ want me to, that's also not an apology. You don't want to make it up to /me/, you want to make yourself feel better. And no. I'm not accepting /that/.}"

Anette rolls her eyes rather dramatically. 'I'm apologizing for the attack. I'm apologizing for...any hurt afterwards. I don't hate you, I'd call it dislike. I certainly don't trust you. But I am sorry I lashed out at you.' Anette gives a quick chuckle, rubbing at her eyes in frustration before she continues. 'I'm not making excuses, I'm just saying the truth. And before you start thinking you know anything about me, I'm doing this because I've realized that I /am/, as kindly you pointed out last time, unstable. And I lash out at people and just hurt everyone around me. So I'm trying to apologize. Whether you actually believe it or not is, for once, not my problem.' Anette finishes her glass of water and rises herself. 'I don't know what else to say or do.'

B has started for the door, but she pauses, head dipping downwards with a small crease of her brows. Her arms tighten against her laptop. She hesitates by the door, quiet a long time before finally murmuring a response. The translation comes a moment later: "{OK. That one, I can accept.}"

Anette gives a quick nod once B gives their approval. 'Fine. Take care,' she says rather curtly before heading towards the door herself.