Logs:Of Absurdity and Anguish (Or, Gonna Explode)
| Of Absurdity and Anguish (Or, Gonna Explode) | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2019-05-06 "Is that... part of the performance?" (X-Kids watch the Met Gala) |
| Location
XS - Rec Room | |
School this may be, but life for Xavier's students certainly isn't all studying. Outside classes, this is a popular spot to find students in their downtime. An enormous tribute to slacking off, this room is a wealth of fun and relaxation. Comfortable armchairs, couches, and beanbags offer plentiful seating scattered throughout the room, and the cushioned windowseats by the high windows offer a cozy nook to curl up and look out on the grounds. The room is often filled with the noises of gaming -- whether it comes from the big-screen television (tall racks of DVDs beside it, if nothing can be found on the multitude of cable channels), tricked out with consoles from retro to the latest releases, or the less electronic clatter and thump of the pool table, air hockey, or foosball. For those a little more subdued in their gaming, the cabinets hold stacks and stacks of board and card games, ranging as classic as chess and go to as esoteric as Dixit, Catan, and Gloom. More days than not, there's some variety of snacks to be found on a table beside the gaming cabinet -- quite often in the form of fresh-baked desserts. While they are not able to be at the Met Gala proper, Marinov has opted to follow the coverage of the event while keeping within theme. They are wearing a silky leopard patterned suit jacket with black lapels (which is adorned with a bright yellow flower), and a row of tiger face patterns all along the bottom. They also wear a pair of similarly rosette patterned shorts. They are not quite as slinky at the one that Ryan Black has on at the event, but they still show a fair bit more leg than Marinov is usually prone to showing. They have been in good spirits all evening and had encouraged pretty well anyone who would listen to come and see the coverage of the star studded event (acting, of course, as the president of the poorly attended Xavier's fashion club). At the moment, they have the TV on in the background, which they look to occasionally to fawn over the delightful outfits (or roast the ones that failed to keep within the theme), but have otherwise been busying themselves with directionless nervous energy. They adjust the mini black top hat fascinator they wear on their head slightly to get it ready. They hold up their phone and ask of those who attended their informal event, "Can someone take a picture of me? I want to have something ready to post to my social media." Mina has a plate of cookies at her side, a glass of soda in her hand. She doesn't look /nearly/ as wild-and-glam as those on the screen -- nor Marinov! -- just bright and cheery in a pink and yellow sundress, rainbowy leggings, a fuzzy soft shrug draped over her shoulders, a huge hibuscus flower (complete with a large blue butterfly perched in it) pinned in her hair. Despite her total lack of fashion /knowledge/ she has been happy to squee or boo along with Marinov's critiques -- and now bounces to her feet to nab the phone obligingly. "Are you gonna pose? That outfit practically /demands/ a good pose!" She's holding the phone up to frame Marinov in it. Kavalam has been concentrating very intently -- perhaps on the outfits! Perhaps on the celebrities! Perhaps just on making sure that the tentative cluster of friend-adjacent-persons around him actually don't forget he's there. Curled up cross-legged on the floor at the base of the couch in jeans and a mustard yellow short-sleeved henley, he studies the screen intently. Studies Marinov intently. "I like the one with the gold wings," he decides, "And that lady with the eye --" He gestures at about boob-level, hand then describing an approximate silhouette of Janelle Monáe's balloon-hipped couture. "I am not sure I understand, though. What is the difference between /camp/ and, ah." He hesitates, biting down on his lip. "/Ridiculous/." Harmony has set aside their usual ignorance of and indifference to television tonight on Marinov's enthusiastic recommendation, though they are currently paying more attention to the other students chatter and their own knitting than the actual screen. They also did not dress in theme, if they were aware of the theme at all, wearing a blue-purple-pink ombre tunic over loose gray linen wrap pants and bright glittery rainbow socks underneath. Their glossy black hair has grown a bit longer than they usually keep it, shaggy fringes hanging in their eyes and covering their ears. They look up from the as-yet-unidentifiable green thing they are knitting at Marinov's request, and has only managed to say "I nominate --" when Mina jumps up. "-- Mina." They cover their laugh with their their knitting, and then glances over at Kavalam. And then gesture at Kavalam -- probably unnecessarily -- as they add, "Yes, I am also kind of confused. About what camp means. Maybe I should have been paying more attention..." They glance at the TV and duck their head sheepishly. Marinov nods enthusiastically at being asked by Mina if they're gonna pose, though not so enthusiastically that the mini hat they're wearing comes out of place again. "Well, the difference between ridiculousness and camp is," they start, striking a suitably dramatic pose for the camera. Fierce eyes! "How well you /own/ it." Once the picture is snapped, they giggle and take it back to review. "Thanks, Mina!" They look back to Kavalam and Harmony to continue, all the while tapping something out idly on their phone. "Actually, I think the ridiculousness is kind of the fun of camp. The over-the-top glamour! It's so theatrical, fantastical, subversive! And yeah, holy shit, Billy Porter? Fucking holy shit! Incredible!" "Amazing!" Mina snaps a /couple/ pictures just for good measure and hands the phone back with a grin. "/You/ own it. I kind of love that there's a whole fashion -- /thing/ dedicated to being nonsense. Why can't there just be more nonsense in life? Wait, there totally could be." Her eyes widen with a sudden delight as she plops back down by Kavalam, grabbing a cookie to crunch off a bite. "We could just /be/ nonsense. We don't need a fancy part... wait, no, we could /also/ have a fancy party what am I even saying. Marinov, you know about fancy things, right? Can the fashion club organize us a fancy nonsense party?" Kavalam nods thoughtfully along with Marionv's explanation of camp, as if taking it to heart. "Mina," he says this slow and earnest, as though delivering a /serious/ revelation, "you are already quite fully a nonsense." One finger taps at his chin. "I would not be opposed to fancier nonsense, how-ever. Do you, perhaps," his brows lift, toward Marinov, "take nonsense /requests/?" Harm is hanging on Marinov's answer as though they wish they could be taking notes (their hands are busy with knitting, though). They nod slowly, mulling this over. "I like it," they declare finally, a bit more /solemnly/ than seems appropriate, given the topic. The solemnity doesn't last, and they practical bounce up out of their seat at Mina's suggestion. "I /love/ fancy nonsense parties! Well, we had nonsense parties at home, but they weren't /that/ fancy." They wave a hand at the screen by way of reference. "How fancy would you have to be to attend?" "A fancy nonsense party? I dunno how much of a budget I could get, but I'm totally down with that idea. This school could definitely use some extra fab nonsense," decides Marinov while they look about at the rec room's tragic lack of nonsense. "I think so long as you don't show up to a nonsense party in something that you'd wear to gain the headmaster's approval in your taste, you'd probably be fine to not get turned away. But I definitely do take nonsense requests, or at least give some kind of advice! I've got lots on the go, so sometimes it takes me awhile to get my personal projects done and I try to prioritize work for people who have difficulty accessing clothes they like. Though-" Suddenly, they fall silent. Marinov's eyes turn to the TV and their ears perk up and their tail curls slightly, having heard mention of Ryan Black's upcoming performance and discussion of the outfit that he had shown up in. "...butterly-themed couture by mutant designer Taylor Marinov..." "I didn't even think about a budget! School-financed nonsense sounds like the best kind of --" Mina falls silent in time with Marinov -- but only briefly. "Waitdidtheyjustsay -- are you for /real/ --" This is followed by a /squeal/ -- she jumps back to her feet, hands clasping (which unleashes a shower of crumbs from the cookie she's still holding.) "Oh my god oh my /god/ are you /serious/ did you /seriously/ design that? Is that seriously your work because that was /amazing/ he looked -- looks -- oh my /god/ Marinov you're like a /genius/ wait hang on you /actually/ /know/ Ryan Black? You like made clothes for him and /everything/?" Wide-eyed, shocked: "Does that mean you've seen him naked? He was wearing like not very much! Oh my god are you famous! You're like famous! This would be a /real/ fancy party! Could you get him to come? Do you have his autograph? Does /he/ have /your/ autograph?" Kavalam's eyes widen, too. He dabs a finger idly onto the edge of the plate of cookies, poking up some crumbs. Licking them off. "... There are not," he ventures uncertainly, "/two/ mutant Taylor Marinovs, no?" He is quiet through Mina's stream of exuberance, taking out his phone to tap at it while she gushes. His eyes widen as he does so. "Do you know last year he was paid twice the cost of our tuition here just to wear some designer's outfit to this event. Marinov," he sounds quite impressed, "does this mean you have /arrived/." Harmony stares at the screen, then stares at Marinov, dark brown eyes huge. They've put down their knitting in ernest. "/Really/, you made that? That's /wonderful!/" they're bouncing up and down in their seat. "Wait, that's the /Grammy's mutant guy/, right?" They're flailing one hand at the glowing crysalis unfolding on stage. Marinov is glowing with pride at hearing their name said on television! As a designer for Ryan Black! They are almost bouncing with enthusiasm when they answer Mina, "Yeah! I mean, yeah I designed that, not that I've seen him naked, but. Holy shit, yeah! I guess I've arrived! It's been like, a lot to keep this whole thing quiet, I met Ryan 'cause of Something Different, and I know he coulda chose someone else so I was so honoured to have the chance. It was so cool to get to work with him." They nod, "And yeah, he's the Grammy's mutant guy. I've got into so many Twitter fights over that. Speaking of..." They dramatically hit post on the tweet they were working on, holding their phone up a bit. "It was a big secret so I couldn't tell anyone and I felt like I was gonna explode keeping it in!" "Holy /cow/ yeah that's a huge secret!" Mina is on her phone, too, swiping excitedly while she talks. "I mean that's /amazing/. That /look/ is amazing! I mean he's like, /gorgeous/, and you made him more gorgeous! I would have exploded, I would have told /everyone/." She glances up, half watching the television and half watching her phone. "Nessie wants to know how to get as cool as you /by/ the way, Marinov. Also, wants to know if there's some kind of Taylor conspiracy to hoard all the coolness? I can't really speak to that. I've never been a Taylor." She bounces slightly as she watches the television. "How do you think they get the effects like that? I totally want to learn how to do theater -- stuff. It's like magic."
"You are an excellent keeper of secrets." Kavalam is, also, currently quite busy on his phone. Tumblr, rather than texting. "And this was a very good one, too. I liked the cape. It has --" He makes a dramatic swishing motion with his arm. "Why did you fight on Twitter? Were you defending his honor? Was it bigots, or simply people with a -- poor musical taste?" His elbow is propped on his knee, now; he's leaning forward, paying attention to the television with a keener interest now that they're all fame-adjacent. Harm alone has not broken out their phone. Possibly they don't even have it on them. Regardless, they have all but forgotten their knitting and are only dividing their attention between Marinov and Ryan's show on screen. "That /has/ to be computer...animation, right?" They bit the corner of the lip as they watch the glowing butterflies flutter out from the stage. "Or. Projection? Or just...actual /magic./" They scrunch themselves up and scoot closer to the others, though without tearing their eyes from the TV. "Oh! He /is/ gorgeous." This despite -- or /because/ of? -- Ryan's monstrous post-metamorphosis outfit. There's a sudden SKITTERrush of feet, clickclickclick -- Nessie is still holding her phone tight in her hand when she races through the Rec Room door. Given that she's looking from phone to Mina to television it's no difficult guess how she's been summoned here -- her eyes /widen/ huge as she stares at the screen, tail flicking up above and behind her. "Oh my /gosh/!" Clickclickclick. She rests one pair of arms and then another on the back of the couch, practically vibrating with excitement at the insectoid performance onstage. "Oh /wow/ did you really DO that, Marinov? That's /gorgeous/." "Bigots with poor musical taste," says Marinov to Kavalam, throwing up their hands in an exasperated fashion, "I couldn't help but to engage." They nod towards Mina, gesturing widely above themselves with their hands, "I've been conspiring with my fellow Taylor for some time to gather all the coolness. But for real, Taylor is real cool." They look to the TV, watching the impressive effects on screen, their eyes tracking the little butterflies. "Oh wow, that looks amazing..." Their gaze turns towards Nessie and they bounce a couple of times on their toes. "Thanks Nessie! I was so excited to like, make something big and-" And for the second time they suddenly fall silent, this time confusion rather than pride settling into their expression. "Is that... part of the performance?" The flash of light and the rumbling sound, and then- the collapse of the stage on screen. In a small voice, through hands covering their mouth: "Oh no." "Is..." That's as far as Mina gets. She falls into silence as the stage collapses, her eyes widening and only a tiny gasp escaping her. Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, toes curling down against the floor. She looks to Marinov -- to Nessie -- back to the screen. One hand darts for her phone -- then slowly leaves it, creeping back into her lap as her shoulders curl inward. Kavalam's head tilts to one side, his brows pulling inward. "Oh, that is not -- oh. Why -- oh." He looks to the screen -- looks to the others. He /does/ pick up his phone, frowning, looking back at Marinov. "But --" then cuts himself off again, biting down on his lip and staring back at the television with a deeper frown. Gradually, his presence at the edge of the group grows -- more obscure. Less noticeable. He's clutching his phone tightly as he flicks through Twitter. Looks back at the screen. Harmony blinks at the screen and leans in closer, narrowing their eyes, then looking to their schoolmates as if hopeful those with more media experience might explain it to them. They shake their head emphatically, once, hugging their knees closer. Looks over at Marinov once more. But they don't say anything at all. Nessie's tail flicks sharply, her lower pincer arms digging into the couch. "A... are we sure that's -- that's not part of the show, are. I mean he does a lot of. Of crazy stuff, right? His shows are -- that's, that's what he... what he..." She swallows, rocking slightly back and forth as she looks at the others. Looks at the screen. "Oh, god." Marinov's stare remains fixed on the screen until the feed cuts instead to a "breaking news" segment. Their voice and is shaky and quiet, "What the fuck?" They look over at the other students (though their gaze slides over Kavalam without apparent recognition). Numbly, they tap out a message on their phone, without thinking about how fruitless it will be.
The message sent, their phone is clutched tightly to their chest, their head bobbing slightly to an internal countdown. Mina's phone is buzzing, and buzzing. She just fidgets slowly with the hem of her dress, eyes fixed numbly on the screen. Ignoring it at first but eventually picking it up to flick through the notifications -- breaking news, Twitter trending, several OMG -- are you seeing this? -- did you hear?? texts and IMs. Eventually she stops on one, though, freezing.
She looks back to Marinov. Starts to reach a hand towards the older teen -- drops her hand back to the floor instead. "What... happens now?" | |
