ArchivedLogs:Variables
| Variables | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-11-27 "{I do not want a dudebro fanclub.}" (Part of Flu Season TP.) |
| Location
<XS> Art Room - FL2 | |
Smells of paints and chalks and turpentine mingle freely in this room, well-used, well-stocked. Natural light flows in, plentiful through the large windows. The long counter-like tables are speckled with spots of color, and half finished projects often stand on easels or propped in corners. The many cupboards lining the walls are crammed full of art supplies. There aren't any classes going on anymore, but this is still a school and the classrooms and equipment are still -- well. Mostly still in order. Though the influx of strangers has left things in a tumult and at the moment the art room is no exception. The place /looks/ like it's been ransacked, the cabinets opened and in disarray, supplies overturned and scattered across tables and the floor. Jax is, at the moment, collecting broken pastels off the floor to put them back in their boxes, teeth gritted and his eye narrowed as he works to clean up the mess. Tian-shin ducks into the room as if fleeing pursuit. Dressed in a heather gray Xavier's athletic t-shirt and black gi-pants with her sword slung across her back, she looks like she has just come from the gym. Or perhaps that self-defense class she probably just finished teaching. A few strands of hair have come loose from the neat bun bound up on the back of her head. She glances out into the hallway, relaxes a little, then turns to look around the room. "{No reason for alarm,}" she says quietly in Spanish, holding up her hands. "{I'm just hiding from wh--ah...our guests.}" She blushes slightly. "{They're fucking up /every/ /single/ /thing/.}" Jax sounds more than a little perturbed as he stacks boxes neatly atop each other. "{Nobody teach them /any/ manners? How to be /guests/?}" His hands thump down onto the floor. "{They are also give you trouble?}" There's a shuffle of scuffing footsteps outside the door. K.C. is dressed in oversized grey sweatshirt, long grey cargo pants fraying at their hems, socked feet. A black and white pitbull is padding along at her side, though she noses on ahead once they get into the room to snuffle over to Jax and then poke through the mess on the floor. K.C. frowns at the floor, head shaking. 'Messy. Not right. Why did you break it all. Did you break the world.' Her signing comes quick and staccato. "{I don't think they see themselves as guests here.}" Tian-shin frowns and takes a few steps into the room. "{Some of them were...being a little overly enthusiasic about seeing a Chinese girl with a sword. Would you like a hand?}" She collects a leaning stack of construction papers in danger of sliding off a table. She smiles when the dog comes in, and waves to K.C. as she follows. Watching the student's hands intently to follow the signing, she shakes her head. 'Sorry, please sign more slow,' her own sign production comes halting and mechanical. "{No. No they think it's their right. -- Ugh gross you should've put the sword through them.}" The clench of Jax's fingers snaps one of the /actually/ intact pastels he's just picked up. He breathes out a sharp sigh, shoving it into a box. "{Rrr. Please. -- What -- oh.}" Some of the tension in him eases as the dog pads in; he lifts a colourfully dusty hand to scritch between her ears. But just kind of blinks slowly at K.C.'s signing. 'What?' he signs back, blankly. 'Break what?' 'Break the world,' K.C. repeats this more slowly now. 'You break the world, you make zombies. Big criminal. You.' Nice and slow, this time. The dog is unbothered by mess -- not the art room /or/ the world, tail wagging happily as she leans into the scratching. "{That probably would have just encouraged the survivors. I do not want a dudebro fanclub.}" Tian-shin shuffles the papers together, returning them to the plastic bin whence they had come. Her expression changes by degrees from perplexed concentration to abject horror as she parses K.C.'s signing this time. 'No, no, no,' her hand flashes the word repeatedly. 'Past, N-E-W-S wrong,' her fingerspelling comes painfully slow. "{Wouldn't /that/ be...}" Jax trails off, staring at K.C. as she signs. 'What the /fuck/.' He's getting to his feet abruptly, hands clenched tightly into fists. K.C.'s expression doesn't change through Jax's anger. She just nods along to Tian-shin's answer, one forefinger tapping at the air. 'Big criminal,' she reiterates, 'lots of crime. Before the plague. Lots of crime before the plague. Lots of mutant crime before the plague. Help. Please help.' Any hope that Tian-shin might follow all of the signing goes by the wayside when Jax stands up, though what she did catch of K.C.'s words makes her dark eyes go wide. She moves closer to her coworker, slender hands held palms-out in a placating gesture. "{I don't think she means it like that,}" her voice is level and calm. 'Help, how?' she signs to the student quickly. Jax's fists stay clenched, but the step he had started taking towards K.C. halts when Tian-shin moves towards him. He takes a deep breath, muscles tense and eyes narrowed, his shoulders slightly trembly with the force of restraint. There's a significant delay before he unclenches his hands in order to answer. 'Help? What help? Crime matters why?' K.C.'s head continues to nod. The pitbull returns to her side for a moment, but then pads over to Tian-shin to sniff at her instead. 'Don't know why. That's why you help. This sick different. Why. We learn why.' Tian-shin relaxes fractionally, nods her agreement to Jax's inquiry. Hard to say how much she caught of what K.C. signed this time until the end. 'You know?' She leans foward, eyes wide. 'Sick different, how?' Jax's pierced brows pull together. "Huh?" The look on his face is mostly confusion. 'Different what? Why? You need us why?' He's shaking his head, teeth worrying uncertainly at his lip ring. K.C. gestures between the two teachers with a small flick of fingers. 'Drugs. Some better. Some not. Different different different.' Her brows have furrowed deeply. 'You know crime,' she says first, and then, 'you know mutants.' Tian-shin nods very slowly at first, but at the end starts shaking it again. 'Sick change, yes. New sick different. But crime, mutants: connection what?' She looks to Jax for help. Jax only shrugs, helplessly. 'Don't know. Connection don't know. Different why don't know.' /His/ signing is growing sharper. Sloppier. More frustrated. His hands turn out briefly towards K.C., almost accusing. '/You/ know?' There's a small flutter of K.C.'s fingers in the air, and she takes a step back away from the others. 'Don't know don't know don't know.' This is punctuated by a very sharp and definitive: 'NO.' But after this: 'But I'm learning. But we learn.' | |
