"It's not gonna be like in there."
<XAV> Nanami and Naomi's Dorm - FL2
Except for the dust, this room looks much like how its occupants left it nearly three months ago -- long overdue homework is still stacked atop Naomi's desk, her backpack open and kicked underneath the chair, clothes askew in the closet where Naomi had dug around for too long and too little time for terrorism clothes. Her laptop is charged, open, and blue-screened on top of her bed, her bucket of souvenirs from Occupy Lassiter tucked under her desk. The door is slightly ajar, kept from closing entirely by the small white garbage bag caught in the doorframe.
Naomi has been slowly cleaning, every so often pausing to look at the laptop, aggrieved, as if it's its fault there is no music to keep her company. She's in a crop-top with a lightning bolt on the front and XAVIER'S PLAYERS PRESENT THE LIGHTNING THIEF on the back, the cut of the sleeves exposing the scales cascading from her shoulderblade down her arm halfway to the elbow, as well as the ugly but healing wound set among the scales on her left shoulder. High-waisted jean shorts, no shoes, dust-rag over her shoulder -- abandoned, now, in favour of spritzing her face scales down with a little silver mister bottle and rubbing the solution in with a microfiber cloth.
Even with the door slightly ajar there's a knock that comes, quiet and polite -- or at least Gaétan is trying, though the rap of his knuckles against it pushes the door that much more open already anyway. Outside, he's looking kind of rumpled in his jeans, grey-checked summer-weight button down unbuttoned over a plain white tee, hair hastily and incompletely finger-combed down from a high dose of wind-rumpling. His, "hey", comes a little apologetically as he steps into the doorway, his gaze hitching on her shoulder-wound with a very small dip of head.
"Ha-- oh, hey." Naomi's eyes light up ever so briefly at that knock. She doesn't seem all that obviously disappointed at who her visitor actually is, but the smile starting to form doesn't fully appear. "I didn't think you were coming back to campus yet." There's some touch of envy in her voice, under the confusion of Gae, very obviously, being in her room. "Nanami ain't here," she adds, in case this wasn't obvious, "if you looking for her." She squeezes the damp cloth in her hand.
"I'm not," Gaétan answers with a small shrug, and doesn't move from the doorway. "Just packing." He glances over towards Nanami's half of the room, the familiar heap of bizarro stuffies spilling off her bed, and a frown creeps into his expression. "Was looking for you." He isn't looking at Naomi now, though, but to the other side of the room, to the blue-screened laptop atop the bed. "Does it do that to everything?"
"Oh." Naomi still sounds just a touch confused until her gaze follow's Gae's line of sight to the laptop. She bites her lip, nods. "Phones been bricking when I'm 'round them too long. That's as on as I can get the dang thing." She sets down the microfiber, takes the dust rag off her shoulder to fold and scrunch instead. "... I was kinda hoping it was actual 5G, you know? Perfect signal everywhere, that would be sick for like, texting on the subway. Shit like that."
"-- Nanami does that, I could probably..." Gaétan is starting to muse before, instead, curling his arms around his chest, his eyes shift back to Naomi, weight rocking back onto his heels. "Guess a lot of things that are pretty useful in there..." His mouth twists slightly to one side, and he hesitates for just a moment. "I -- could probably try to fix it. I mean, I don't -- want this to jam you up out here. I just -- honestly -- not sure what's worse, like, no cellphone forever or -- sitting through more of --" There's a slow tightening through his shoulders, his words coming out a little stiff. "Figured I'd ask."
The corner of Naomi's mouth twitches up, not quite mirroring Gaétan in her expression. "I miss monster gang already, who knows when scales gonna come in handy again." She's joking -- trying to joke, anyway, but the half-smile is falling already. "...Do you think you could?" Her voice, already not that loud, drops a little quieter. "I mean -- it looked -- it sounded --" She sinks to sit on her bed, jostling the busted laptop just a little bit. Pulls her knees up to her chin, averts her gaze down to Gae's shoes. "...Can you tell what's me? What's not?"
For a short while, Gaétan does not answer, though he's studying Naomi intently. "I --" He bites his lip, and his shoulders sink. "It's kind of all you now. If I focus I can start to tease out what goes where, but I can't promise --" He bites down on his lip his breath coming out sharp around his teeth. "It's not gonna be like in there," he says finally, quieter. "Might be slow, but I'm not -- going to -- undo you."
"It ain't gonna be like in there," Naomi repeats, green eyes wide, "I ain't gonna ask you to do nothing you don't think you can do." Her fingertips tap softly against her leg. "If you willing to try though..." The lower half of her face pulls into a tight, almost-smile that struggles to stay put. "I sure would 'ppreciate being able to use a drum pad again."
Gaétan is still tense, but he nods slow. "I'll try," he promises. "Might have to be like, later this week after I've slept more than like two hours." He uncurls his arms from his chest, hand rubbing against the back of his neck, and his smile comes a little bit easier when he adds, "-- the world would be worse off if you couldn't. Where else am I gonna find someone who can handle my drum solos?"
Naomi nods, too, that almost-smile growing a little stronger. "Tch, maybe I should keep it, make you to write something even a lil bit reasonable for a change." Though she doesn't uncurl there is an easing in her body's tension, too. "I can come downtown -- not like I got classes or nothing this term." A pause, small, before she asks, "-- do your siblings know? Or do I need to come up with a better excuse than 'hooking up' 'fore I come over?"
"No challenge in that," Gae replies, lighter. "-- and cool. Luci'll be fretting so that means there'll be more snacks around than I could eat in a lifetime." He shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching a little with his next nod. "My brothers know. After Spence got -- Matt's same damn cancer, Mr. Holland -- guessed. Suspected. I don't know. But them and Spence and you are -- pretty much the only ones." His brows crease, deep. "... and Prometheus's fucked up genetics wing, I guess." He straightens, taking a half-step back. "... next time we do some crazy vacation I feel like we should stick to diving in iceberg lakes or climbing a volcano. We are not planning these good at all."
"And Lael." Naomi's shrug is half-hearted -- maybe she's distracted by taking in how short Gaétan's list is. "Probably. Ionno sometimes I think real loud, sorry. He ain't gonna say nothing." There is a quiet confidence in that declaration. She doesn't add I ain't saying nothing -- hopefully, at this point, she doesn't need to. Instead, she slips back off the bed, adding on just a touch wry: "Psh, Avi can make us an iceberg lake right at home. I'm real tired of field trips -- maybe we oughta do more staycations instead."