Logs:Forecast Unclear

Forecast Unclear
Dramatis Personae Harm, Scott
In Absentia Charles	2024-01-04 I already knew the school was weird, but now I feel like there's so much more Weird Xavier's Lore than I ever guessed.
Location <XAV> Grounds - Xs Grounds
Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse. The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous. The weather today couldn't be called pleasant, and nearly nobody seems to be out enjoying it -- Scott is alone in the front yard, bundled up in a thick down parka and a warm knit beanie, both dark blue; he has gloves, too, but has removed one to fuss somewhat purposelessly with the tire swing fixtures. After a moment he abandons the tire swing and steps away, tilting his head to look upward, frowning against the cold. Or maybe frowning because of the cold? When he walks away it is with a similar lack of urgency; he pauses every few seconds to inspect the treehouse ladder, or a sprinkler head, or a rock he stepped on, all with the same grave expression. Eventually, there's a creak of wood high overhead, and a moment later Harm is making their unhurried way down the recently inspected ladder. They're in a heavy blue-pink-purple coat of an Outdoorsy™️ design, thick waled black corduroys, and green moccasins, with matching rainbow ombre knitted beanie, scarf, and mittens. They squint at the sky, then at Scott, uncertain. "Is something wrong, Mister Summers?" This is hesitant and quiet, and maybe just a little tiny bit worried. Who knows what might be brewing in the sky over Xavier's. "Hm?" Scott's gaze is as opaque as ever when he directs it at Harm, then back up at the sky. "Does it look like rain to you," is what he says, not quite questioningly, then he shakes his head and drops his chin again, returns to earth for the moment. "This term going okay for you?" At the question Harm blinks and does not look back up, but at the western horizon. "I don't think so. At least not yet. Maybe you could ask Ms. Munroe?" They blush suddenly and duck their head. "I guess she probably gets tired of everyone asking her that." At the other question, they look back out at the horizon as if still trying to answer the first one. "It's...fine, I guess? I don't know. Everything's been weird, since we got back." They lean on "got back" slightly, but then looks uncertain and adds, "From Lassiter, I mean. Sorry if that's like, stupidly obvious." Scott gives something between a scoff and a chuckle. "There's the downside of a useful power," he says, then -- with a glance at Harm again, the light amusement on his face dropping slightly downward at the corners of his mouth -- "I don't need to tell you that." He follows Harm's gaze off to the horizon too. "Yeah," he says, "I'll bet. For all of you, I'm sure." He glances down at his hands, then puts his glove back on, fidgets with the knit uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he adds, a little uncertainly. "We're... well, we're usually pretty good at 'weird' here." Harm flinches, then tries to cover it with an exaggerated grimace. "Story of my life," they say with a smile that might be bravado but doesn't quite look forced. "I wouldn't trade it for something that was less trouble. I already knew the school was weird, but now I feel like there's so much more Weird Xavier's Lore than I ever guessed." They shrug. "I don't mind weird, though." They look down at their cozy mittens, tapping the tips of their fingers together. "Thank you for um...saving us? I don't think I actually said that, at the time." Scott grimaces too, and he doesn't manage to force a smile after it, though "You're sure?" is, surely, not serious. He puts his hands in the pockets of his parka, glances up at the sky again with a troubled expression that is probably not, this time, about the weather. "The Professor sort of collects weird lore," he acknowledges. "Some of it's probably weirder than you think. Some of it's weirder than I think. But I... don't mind weird, either." He says this uncomfortably, like he can't entirely commit to it, and then scoff-chuckles again. "No problem," he says. "Wish we'd gotten there sooner." "Would you?" Harm sounds genuinely curious, peering at Scott's glasses. "Not like, if you had my power. I mean yours." They follow his gaze up to the sky again. "I feel like maybe...the Professor collects weird people, and they make weird lore together. I wish it didn't have to all be so secret, though. I bet you have so many cool stories you never tell." This is kind of wistful. "Is it messed up that I immediately thought 'if you got there later I might be able to push off graduation for another term'?" "When I was your age, I would have," says Scott faintly. "Now?" He doesn't actually seem to know -- after a moment he decides, "Probably not." He tilts his head slightly, but he seems to agree with Harm's assessment of the Weirdness, adding only, "We collect each other, too." His head stays in that slight incline, his eyebrows lowering into a very slight frown at Harm's next words -- "Maybe a little messed up," he allows. "But I get it. For a lot of you kids -- for a lot of us -- this --" he shrugs his shoulders, apparently not wanting to take his hands out of his pockets to gesture more expansively -- "is hard to leave behind. But... it's not all the world has to offer. This community, this school, at the end of the day it's still very small." Harm nods sagely. "Maybe it's lucky for us you didn't get a chance to trade it." But now they frown thoughtfully. "I guess, unless you traded it for Sriyani's thing..." Maybe the pause would have been awkward if they gave it a chance to be, but they don't, hastening on to, "I come from a really small community, so maybe that feels right in a way. But it's more like, I don't know what I want to do except make music and heal people. You're old --" They break off, blushing again. "Sorry, that's not an insult in my culture the same way, and I don't mean like. Old old. But, you know, experienced. Where have you seen out there that people can be even slightly normal about what I do? Where people would even stop to think that Ms. Munroe might be tired of making the weather do what they want?" Scott laughs, then cuts himself off, fortunately at the same time Harm is moving on. "Ah," he says finally, solemnly. "Yeah. I -- even here, even among the staff, you know, it can be hard not to end up relying on people who are exceptionally helpful. And it's harder because I know those people are working here for a reason, that they want to be helpful. At the end of the day you're gonna have to be the one that sets your own limits and boundaries and... you'll know all of this already," he acknowledges, glancing sideways at them with a slight grimace. "Out there? Honestly, there's no where, it's about who you surround yourself with. And it can be hard to find people who are, uh, 'normal' about what you do, I won't deny that. It can be hard to find something to do with yourself too. But you won't know if you don't try." He shifts on his feet, and tilts his head again at the horizon. "Are you thinking about college?" "I guess that's a problem with or without powers. Like if you're just really good with computers and you're fine helping sometimes, and then you end up being everyone's free tech support." Harm hugs themselves as if suddenly cold despite their extensive winter gear. "But it's hard to put your foot down when saying 'no' means someone else has to be in pain..." They bite their lower lip. "...and saying 'yes' means you have to be in pain." Their shrug is jerkier, this time, though maybe that's just their shoulders being hunched up. "Explaining that to other mutants is hard enough, and explaining it to humans?" They take a deep breath and unwind their arms from around themselves. "I know I can't just avoid humans, but right now? I kind of want to. But I didn't want to go to college, not even before last summer. Well okay, I was thinking about music school, and I can definitely afford it now. Scott's gaze shifts sideways. "You'll have to decide what sharing your gift is worth, to you," he says, a little apologetically, like he would prefer to be giving Harm a standard operating procedure for power use. "Is it worth being in pain? Is it worth what others will start expecting of you? Sometimes, even if you can help, you'll have to say no. Sometimes it's better not to admit you can help at all. Is that the right thing to do?" He shrugs again, still determinedly staring at the horizon. "If you want to avoid humans... I think that'll be pretty hard. Most of the world is humans. And I think most humans are good, all things considered. But --" now, finally, he glances back at Harm with a slight grimace, then away from them again. "Well, I understand. But unfortunately they don't have mutant music school, yet." Harm doesn't answer immediately, but it isn't a very long deliberation either. "I think it's worth all that, even if I never get good at saying 'no'. I want to heal people, and not just like my friends, or even just my community." The pause this time feels more like a hesitation, but it's not very long either. "I learned some things at Lassiter, ways I can do more, if I have people helping me. But it's not subtle, and I can't get that help if I'm closeted. Unless I start a cult or something." Their smile is half a mirror of Scott's grimace. "I don't think humans are bad. I just don't like them very much right now. Probably that will change if I hang out with more of them. Like maybe at human music school." Scott inclines his head. "I can't recommend starting a cult," he says, completely seriously, though one corner of his mouth twitches like it wants to smile before tugging back into his default pensive expression. "Probably," he agrees. "I mean, I've never been." He glances at Harm again, more thoughtfully this time. "I just hope you'll be careful," he settles on. "And -- realistic. And know that, whatever you do, you'll still have --" he tilts his head at the mansion -- "all of us back here, to support you." "I think trying to do more school is already pretty unrealistic for me," Harm admits, though they don't seem very bothered. They give a small nod, as much at the horizon over the lake as at Scott. "Maybe that's okay. I sucked at school here, too, but if the point is to learn I did plenty of that." They lean aside and lower their voice, "I know, 'excellence' is the point. And 'leadership', and probably the diploma. But the part where you actually care about us is pretty great, too." "That's okay, too," says Scott; maybe his tone is too rote even for him to believe, for he adds a moment later, almost sheepishly, "I'm not just saying that." But he is, in fact, just saying that, or at least he doesn't come up with anything to add. His shoulders settle slightly. "I think the point," he muses, "is whatever you need to figure yourselves out. Usually," he admits, "it does involve a diploma."