Logs:No one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.

No one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.
Dramatis Personae Joshua, Leo, Tok
In Absentia	2025-01-18 "We," snap, "are not," thwack, "where you start."
Location <XAV> Medical Lab - Xs Basement
Gleaming and sterile, the school's medical facility is all cool science in contrast to the mansion's old-world old-fashion. All stainless steel and antiseptic tinge, the room is filled with the quiet whir-click of the various implements that comprise its medical equipment -- all state-of the art. The hospital beds are curtained off for privacy when they have patients, and in one of the alcoves there is a small operating theatre visible. More heavy-duty equipment is visible in the lab in the back, where the securely locked cabinets keep sensitive equipment out of the reach of teenage fingers. It's getting -- past curfew, by now, but this particular task seems more like a "just power through it" situation than a "see who the fungus has spread back to in the morning" situation. Leo is still in the medical lab, bolstered by his umpteenth coffee and a gritted will as he clears the Xavierites in ones and twos and threes to head off to their temporary remote home. Right now he is seated cross-legged on an empty cot, munching hungrily on a bag of sweet corn Turtle chips as he waits for his next patient. He squints long and hard at the back of the package before deciding it is wildly unlikely this Korean snack food has gotten a hechsher, and not bothering to offer to share. Not far off, Joshua is lying on an adjacent cot. He's idly tossing a gelatinous stress ball up and down, up and down, head bobbing in time with its smack against his palm. He glances over as Leo starts scrutinizing the bag, and his lips twitch in amusement. He just shakes his head, goes back to tossing the ball -- he's come to this same conclusion well before Leo. Tok is sliding in next, evidently attempting to disappear into the slightly torn, oddly slightly burnt, sweatjacket they wear. The sleeve over their left arm is stretched over a white forearm cast. Their jaw and side of their face have large blooming bruises, still in the bluepurple stage, although the edges stretch greenyellow. Finally, and probably a common sight by now, their fungus sprouts from their neck in ruffles, out from their scalp, along their cheeks to the edges of their ears, and heavily in the patchy fur of their tail (which has wrapped carefully around their waist on their entrance into the medical lab). They approach hesitantly, ears pinned straight down, and glance up between Joshua and Leo intermittently, “…Hi…uh-” they wince, “Again.” Leo's fingers crinkle into the bag, a loud crunch as several of the chips inside are crushed. He smooths the bag out, then neatly refolds it at the top, setting it on the bed beside him. "-- You're hurt." His brows have creased in a vague worry, and he's looking to Joshua rather than Tok as he says this. His eyes drift back to the child, and he shakes his head apologetically. "I'm -- sorry. This won't take so long." Joshua sits upright when Tok comes in. He catches the ball again and squeezes it hard into his fist. He's leaning forward, elbow resting on his knee as he watches the ball return to its shape, then squeezes it again. "Who clocked you." Tok physically cringes a little against Leo’s worry, head turtling more into their shoulders. “Nono- you’re good…Thank you.” Their eyes track to the ball in Joshua’s hand distractedly, and it takes them a moment to answer him, “Nobody. Was my fault- Just slipped on some ice. Fell off the roof.” They shrug their already tensed shoulders stiffly. Is this a joke? They don’t really sound like they’re joking. They finally step a little closer to Leo now, unsure where to stand for this defungussing process. “…How’s your...” They flick a claw up towards Leo’s head, “You had bandages.” "I had a concussion. It's fine now, Joshua fixed it." Leo is looking at the cast, now. Then at Joshua. A little bit pointedly, but only a little. He reaches out with a leg, hooking a chair nearby and pulling it back closer to his perch on the cot, then gesturing Tok to sit in it. "Fine," Joshua echoes, with a small snort. He tosses his ball up again, catches it with a satisfying thwack. His mouth twitches, and he's studying Tok's cast long and hard. "Been a hell of a week." Tok huffs out a breath, “A week.” They repeat, like maybe they can’t believe it themself. “That’s cool though- the healing and being better- not the…concussion.” Their eyes flick nervously between Joshua and Leo once more, before they quickly take the offered seat with a nod. They instinctively bring their feet up onto it, then quickly let them plop back down to the tile floor. Their leg bounces instead, stops, starts again, stops again, like they have to keep reminding themself to be a well behaved patient. “Oh- and- I’m not gonna-uh. Do it again, by the way. I can’t- so.” Their leg starts bouncing again, and they keep their head tilted down, “So. Uh. Don’t worry.” They reassure Leo, quick, nervous, apologetic. "Can't?" Leo is looking again -- but this time with some confusion -- to the cast. Inspecting it intently for signs of power-dampening ability. "I mean, that's -- good? Right?" He sounds entirely unsure. He is starting to focus again, and though it does not yet look like anything, Joshua can feel the very careful flex of his power as it thoroughly maps out the fungus covering Tok and what tiny traces of it have shed through the room since their arrival. "It's good." Joshua is firm on this. "Don't need Fungus 2: Island Boogaloo." Tok stops their leg bouncing again, trying to hold themself very still. Their brow scrunches a little, at Joshua’s input, “Yeah I-…They put shit in my brain. Can’t do it.” They explain, distractedly. They’re quiet, and a nervous warble manages to squeeze its way through before they speak again, “…Fungus 2?” They ask. “How would- I’m not gonna cause Fungus 2.” They say, now defensively. Leo is very silent, at this. His lips press tight. Slowly, the fungus on Tok is starting to wither. It's beginning now with that on their head -- shrinking away and blackening to an unpleasant tarry residue, slightly gooey but at least no longer the ceaseless horrible itch that had been there. Another thwack of Joshua's ball. He squeezes it again tight. His voice flat, but it's always flat. "Where you think that one came from." Tok just barely flinches at the thwack this time. Their eyes narrow where they’ve kept them locked to the ground, and their head twitches at the shift in feeling on their head. “I thought…” their next intake of breath comes faster than the previous one, “Wasn’t it from the trees?” "The trees are only dangerous in the violent way." In Leo's quiet and diffident voice this information sounds quite apologetic. His head is bowed; the slow creep of decaying fungus is continuing on downward slowly, odd and slightly warm. "My power is -- it can be very dangerous when. Not -- kept controlled. In me these things mutate very easily." "In you," Joshua says, very level, "it's controlled." He isn't throwing the ball anymore, its smacking rhythm gone quiet as he just digs his fingertips hard into the gel. “Oh.” Comes out strained. There’s a full body shudder that runs through Tok, maybe in reaction to the revelation or decaying fungus or both. They take another breath, blink hard. “Oh no.” Their claws go to pull at the fur of their tail, then divert to instead tear into the cast, and theres a small patch of the hard outer coating that’s fraying that makes it clear this isn’t a new substitute habit. “So many people got fungus.” They say, horrified. The unpleasantly gooey warmth is spreading its way through Tok's fur, down through the patchy pulled-bare patches of tail. "I told you. My power hurts people." Leo's fingers grip hard against the cot. "You should rank powers. It -- this was not as bad as it could have been." "Half of them think Leo did it." Joshua pushes himself to the edge of the mattress. He gestures across the narrow gap between cots, beckoning for Tok's casted arm. "Lemme see." Tok’s tail shifts in its curl about their waist uncomfortably, and they very very slowly allow it to loosen its hold, as if that might help the feeling. They’re quiet, as the two of them talk, but do a delayed double take at Joshua’s beckoning. They glance up towards Leo, and scoot a little closer towards Joshua, and hesitantly give their casted arm to him. They tilt it a little, to try and hide the patch they’d been tearing apart. “But-I gave everyone fungus.” They argue. “You’re the one fixing it.” They swallow, harshly, “It’s helping right now.” "Stop." It's not sharp, exactly, but it's immediate and firm, quite noticeably moreso than Leo's previous quiet words. "You don't know what it's like." Joshua's jaw has gone very tight. He takes Tok's clawed hand gentle in his own. There's an itching inside, now, uncomfortable and impossible to reach beneath the cast, beneath the skin, where bone is knitting itself back together. It does eventually fade -- the cast vanishes (though it hasn't gone very far, judging by the thump-clunk sound from a nearby trashcan); Joshua sits back on the bed. Tosses the ball up again. Snatches it back out of the air with another hard smack. "They good to go?" He's lifting his brows to Leo. Tok ducks their head, immediate. They blink harshly, “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to- I know I-” they make a startled, short trill at the sudden itch, and the remaining fur of their tail raises against the gooey decaying sludge. They’re nearly rising up out of their seat, but are left frozen, at the sudden sight of their own arm’s repaired state. They huff out a breath of disbelief, and flex their hand a few times. “Thank you.” They run their other hand over the arm, and their mouth twitches into a press. They look up at Joshua, then up to Leo, “M’sorry.” They hesitate, “Just thought I could help while you were hurt…Ended up giving you more work.” "I think your classmates maybe could make more -- use from that apology." Leo folds his hands together tightly, resting them down in his lap. He's doing another check, slow and cautious, before he nods. He gestures to where a side door has been just barely doorstopped open. "It should feel less terrible after a shower." Joshua settles back against his pillows. His head tips up to the ceiling, his hand lifting to flick the stress ball again. Thwack. Tok looks down at their hands, to their tail, gently prods up at their hair. They shudder out a sigh of relief, their shoulders drop, and they nod quickly, then stand. “Thank you. Both.” They begin wandering towards the door, then hesitate, “If you guys need any help…” They trail off, and their hands pull at the hem of their sweatjacket, “I’unno, I wanna try to make it better.” They curl their claws into the sleeves, then add a little quieter, “If I can.” Leo blinks, and then dips his head. Small. "Thank you," is all he says, very politely -- he's still holding his hand out towards the open door. The sharp-slap rhythm of Joshua's hand snatching quick at his ball punctuates his words with an intensity that his dull voice lacks. "We," snap, "are not," thwack, "where you start." He smacks at the ball again, and this time it's vanished. He jerks his chin towards the door, too. Tok blows out an anxious breath, nods, and their tail fully unwinds from their waist as they quickly slip their way out the door.