Logs:(It Goes Like) NaNaNa
| (It Goes Like) NaNaNa | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2023-10-02 "...They put nothing like this in the brochure." |
| Location
<XAV> Nanami, Naomi, and Nahida's Dorm - FL2 | |
This was a generously sized double-occupancy room, once, with high ceilings that were far beyond its occupants' reach even when standing on the desks. Now -- Well, it's a good thing it was generously sized before! Where once were two twin beds are now two bunk sets, one with a desk and chest of drawers tucked underneath. There are two more desks crammed near the windows, a chest of drawers squeezed between one and the far wall, a whole wooden wardrobe taking the place of where there might be a third chest on the other side. There are two closets built into the room, closer to the door, and both already occupied. The bunk-and-desk set has already been super claimed -- there are so many stuffed animals on the top bunk, and a few fallen and forlorn on the surface of the desk and the floor. The other top bunk is empty -- the bottom one is neatly made with dark green sheets and a thick duvet. One of the desks is occupied right now -- Naomi has one earbud inserted, the other blaring out Lin-Manuel Miranda and Leslie Odom Jr's voices in tinny counterpoint while she spins a highlighter in her hand, flipping back and forth through a stapled reading. Her locs are loose and long around her head, some caught in the hood of her blue-gold Xavier's hoodie, black jeans, red hi-tops, a silver septum ring in her nose. Does she like Hamilton? The curl of her lips as she listens is maybe an opinion -- or maybe she's just annoyed that this is homework. The knock on the door is quick and crisp, and there's not much wait at all before it opens. Nahida is dressed in a chunky oversized colorblock sweater (green and black and white), faded loose-legged jeans, sparkling white sneakers, her green and white headscarf just starting to pull loose where it's gripped between her backpack strap and her shoulder. "Oh -- oh." Her eyes go just a little wider when she sees Naomi inside, and then her smile comes small and quick. "Right. I mean hello. I mean it's..." She's struggling and not just with the heavy suitcase she's toting behind herself. "good?" sounds very unconvinced. "To. See you. Again." "S'open," Naomi is calling right after the knock, taking a moment to pull over her phone and find the pause button and not looking up at her guest(?) until after this is complete. "What's --" up, probably, is where this question was going, but it's dying on her lips when Naomi sees Nahida properly. "-- shit," she continues, "I thought -- you wasn't -- hi?" That probably shouldn't be a question, nor should her actual questions sound so surprised -- "You go here? Now?" "I go here now," Nahida confirms, with a small moue of displeasure. "I had some problems with the -- America." She pulls her bag inside and then just stands, assessing the room with a small frown. She's looking to the neatly made lower bunk, to the overflowing loft bed, back to Naomi. Finally she lifts one neatly French-manicured finger to point towards Nanami's bed. "Who even fits there." "Ohhhh." It's not until Nahida has pulled the bag in that Naomi actually stands up, sudden and quick. "Nanami ain't fallen off the damn bed yet," comes with an inflection that suggests Naomi thinks this is an inevitability. Her eyes are dropping away from Nahida's pointing, though, to land on the bag. "You need a hand unpacking?" is very uncertain. "Do you mind taking top bunk? Or is it better --" Naomi isn't finishing this question but she is looking at the edge of Nahida's headscarf now with a growing frown. "Nanami? Did they do this on purpose? I assume some of the girls here did not come to our jail fieldtrip, they said this school was small but..." Nahida trails off; she's eying Nanami's bed with a small quirk of amusement, now. Her brows pinch as she looks back to Naomi, hand reflexively lifting to the edge of the scarf. "Do you mind I will be climbing down it before the sun each morning. I can pray very quiet but --" She's eying the ladder, now, kind of uncertain. "School's a little bigger now," Naomi is saying, "the bunkbeds are, uh, new-new. If you wanna we can roll by Mr. Summers's office, see if there some space in someone else's room, but--" she sucks in some air through her teeth, "-- I ain't sure there's much wiggle room. Sorry." Naomi bites her lip, eyeing the ladder too with some trepidation. "...It ain't a problem for me but that sounds..." She frowns, again, grabs her pillow and tosses it up to the top bunk. "Imma move my stuff. Uh, you get the whole, freak school rundown already?" She's peeling the duvet off next, folding it kind of haphazardly and perching it on her desk chair. "No, it's --" cool doesn't follow, Nahida's lips compressing thing. "You all will not ask stupid questions, anyway." Finally she starts to drag her suitcase further in, leaning it against the foot of the bed. "Officially, no. Sriyani has given many-many updates." Here her brows pinch, and then, wry, she admits: "Not always so helpful of updates. I have gotten pictures of probably every dog and cat and lizard and hamster who live in the school. How to pick from the ten thousand classes, no help at all." "Some these kids ask such stupid questions." Naomi is yanking the sheets off next, then the plastic mattress protector and tossing that up to the top bunk before clambering up the ladder herself. "They leave out the horses?" is a little distracted while she struggles to get the fitted corners over the edge of the mattress. "We got almost as many horses as we got bougie-ass classes." Naomi's forehead and eyes peer over the edge of the bunk. "Don't stress too hard, you gonna end up in all the required shit anyway by the time you talk to an advisor. Teen Health. Expo. Psi-Defense. Mutant Ethics 101. Maybe a math class." "What do you do with the horses?" Nahida is abruptly suspicious of this, looking around the room like some Halloween-season science experiment is about to rear its formaldehyde-preserved head. "They said I will hate the yoga teacher, but I don't plan to do yoga. What," now she sounds skeptical, "do they tell you in Mutant Ethics." She unslings her backpack from her shoulders, going to push the door properly closed before unwinding her slightly-askew headscarf to start tucking and folding it more neatly again. A grimace crosses her face as she does this. "Don't do terrorism, I expect." "We all hate the yoga teacher, she sucks." Naomi is disappearing above Nahida's head again, tucking the sheets into place and only banging her head against the ceiling Once in the process. "Ionno if they gonna change the syllabus for -- s'actually called Ethics of Power, if you looking for it -- on 'ccount of all them teachers who did a whole terrorism getting us home, but when I took it there was some nooooo please don't join the Brotherhood thing goin' on." The shuffling above pauses for a moment. "The Professor teaches that an' I heard he had a whole battle chair for terrorismin' in." "The Professor has what? That -- but he is --" Nahida presses her mouth together for a moment as the disbelief works its way out of her expression. Eventually she finishes: "... old." Her mouth twitches as she starts to drift the room, examining the drawers in the empty desk, examining the wardrobe. "... Ethical Terrorism would be an entertaining course. I think we could use some lessons in being effective, though." "S'why he needs the chair," Naomi is saying very confidently, "for shooting at things he can't just --" She sticks her head back out over the side, presses two fingertips to the scales of her temple, "-- brain at." Her head disappears for just a moment before Naomi is sliding down the ladder. "We could ask," she's saying, very earnestly, eyes open wide, surely she's not being serious about this ridiculous school but her voice is not breaking into laughter, "make a self directed class. Final project is pulling off a terrorism. Counts for either PE or Ethics credits." No knock, here, the door is just bursting open. Nanami has actually been to class today, apparently; she has a math textbook in her arm, anyway, and her phone in her hand. Dressed bright in black and pink, sweatshirt and blouse and tights and skirt and stompy boots. She's shooting off a message as she clomps over toward her desk, chin jerking up to Nahida as if this is simply What To Expect on a Monday. "If Mr. Jax come back, teach that, maybe we actually pull it off, huh? Though don't tell Mr. Summers but he could teach it now, too. Girl you late. They gonna make you actually catch up fo last month?" There's a scrunch of her brows as she demands this information that could read as simply curious but probably to Naomi suggests she's already thinking of a teacher to confront if the answer is Yes. Nahida is turning quick at the opening of the door, eyes wider and then narrowing again all in the space of a second. "I -- maybe? Yes? I don't know, yet." She's glancing between the other two girls with a profound look of uncertainty. "My parents sent me here," she ventures, "hoping for little bit less of terrorism than before. They will be very disappointed." "Girl," comes quick, "close the door Nahida's hair's all out." Naomi goes and closes it while Nanami gets settled. "Nahhhhhh Monsieur Tessier should teach it, then there's no homework. What'd they tell your folks 'bout freakschool, anyway?" She's leaning against the leg of bunk bed now, one leg crossed over the other. "Give 'em some staff breakdown? Only ten percent of faculty are terrorists? My folks they been learning not to ask." "Ohshi --" Naomi is already getting the door, though, so Nanami puses half-turned back towards it. Glances to Nahida, then sets her book down on her desk. "If Mr. Tessier taught it we'd end up do some terrorist spell." Though she's saying this at first a little derisively she quickly is reconsidering: "... would that work? I ask." She's picking up one (only one) of the stuffies that has fallen to the floor and sets it on her desk. "Don't give them school newspaper ever. They want no terrorism they will not like hear about the Professor run one cult with Magneto." Nahida is just finishing tucking her headscarf, slowly lowering the last drape of the wrap to settle back around her shoulders. Her expression has softened momentarily at Naomi's quick caution, something -- startled? grateful? -- in the quick flick of glance she gives the other girl. It doesn't last, it's shifting to a rapid bemusement. Her eyes tick between the other two, and she turns slowly to lean back against a tall leg of the bed. "Nnno," she's replying, slowly, "but my sister will be so jealous. She has met zero terrorist." "Some them spells work," Naomi is nodding along, "Harm's ma says I got some spiritual attunement to rebirthing nature or whatever, ask him what kinda terror spell y'all can do with that." She's digging into her pocket -- pulling out her phone -- pulling up a file and waggling her phone to Nahida as Nanami alludes to The Video. "Don't she know you? Get her up here for Family Weekend. She can meet so many terrorists." "Nature no need help. Wen do so much terrorism all on its own." Nanami flumps down into her desk chair, sending it rocking to thump against the desk. "She know you, yah?" this comes roughly in time with Naomi's same statement. "She big? Little? Maybe still time, teach her up right." Nahida blinks; a small shift of stance, her arms crossing over her chest and then deliberately uncrossing again. "Oh, she's --" She doesn't elaborate on her sister, though. Just takes the phone in order to play the video, and her eyes are growing wider, her mouth twitching through a downward twist and small O before settling into a smirk. "...They put nothing like this in the brochure." | |
