Logs:Of Claws and Compulsion (Or, A Small Demonstration)

Of Claws and Compulsion (Or, A Small Demonstration)
Dramatis Personae Harm, Isolde, Kavalam, Naomi
In Absentia	2020-09-17 "Tell me about that instrument."
Location <XAV> Rec Room - Xs Second Floor
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. Dinner is mostly winding down, though plenty of students are still down in the Great Hall, the rec room mostly neglected for the time being. Harm had brought their food up here tonight, and, not seeming very enthusiastic about it, has left some of the mac and cheese and green beans on their plate. They're curled into the corner of the couch and knitting steadily without even looking at the tube of sparkly black yarn forming beneath their circular needles. They're dressed in a purple t-shirt with a cartoon chimera on the front and the text "Chimaera Art Space", green linen wrap pants. "...then they just pulled up a chair and stared at Marcus while he cooked. It was so weird." On the opposite side of the couch from Harm is -- nothing. At least that's what it would look like to an outsider, Harm knitting by themselves and holding a conversation with nobody. Harm, at least, can see Kavalam where he sits, curled up opposite them in jeans and a plain black button-down, laptop in his lap but currently ignored. "Mmm, yes, staring at people. So weird." His mouth twitches, slightly. "If they can see you, anyway." Isolde wasn’t one to explore the place too much, preferring to stay in her room. She wasn’t very talkative, though she would talk if you talked to her. She brought her tagelharpa up with her, a decently sized bowed harp, popular in Scandinavian countries for quite some time. And given that she was Polish, well... it only made sense after all. However, today, she felt like exploring. She had been given the tour, the cellphone that every student was given, so on. And yet nothing in this so-called ‘rec-room’ spoke out to her. So she decided to bring something instead. Isolde was dressed in a rather interesting ensemble. Replacing her usual plaid shirt with a solid color shirt, she wore a field jacket—based on the M-65 field jacket of military fame— and some dark blue jeans, along with heavy looking boots, most resembling work boots. Her fingers touched the strings on one hand, and her other held the bow lightly, as it moved gracefully across the strings. This created an unusual but beautiful sound, and the rec-room was quietly serenaded with the music emanating from the instrument. It was held on a slight angle, so as to allow you to play it easier, but did not always have to be. But for now, she said nothing to no one. Green eyes closed, and fiery red hair draped around her jacket, Isolde was completely absorbed in her music. It reminded her of Poland, of home. Of her mother, who she missed, but was not lost. Naomi arrives, taking the last bite of some little cookie when she arrives in the rec room. She sees Harm first, mouths 'Is that you?' before walking in a little further and spotting the redhead on the other end of the room. She watches for a while, taking only a few steps over to sit on the couch near Harm. Her faded black denim jacket is open, revealing a cut up Panic At the Disco shirt over deep red pants. Another look at Harm, whispers, "is she new too?" Another moment, and Naomi leans forward. "Talk to me," she says, eyes glowing an eerie green. "Tell me about that instrument." Harm blushes. "I feel like it's kind of different, yeah." They perk up when Isolde enters, and look about ready to speak when the girl starts playing instead. They settle back down, head tilted with interest. They wave at Naomi when she enters. Gives an exaggerated nod at the question, then looks utterly scandalized as she just walks up and interrupts the playing. Sighing, shaking their head, they say, "That was very lovely." Kavalam glances up, head tilting and brows raising as Isolde takes a seat with her instrument. "Does she know there is a music room?" This, to Harm alone -- though despite the comment he's half-turning, watching the girl play with some curiosity. His eyes dart to Harm when Naomi speaks, though he doesn't look half so fussed. Isolde, as much as she would try to resist—were she aware of what was happening— simply did not do so. She eventually stopped playing, as the suggestion set in. Polish accented English allows her to explain the instrument—that is, if the present company can ignore any pronunciation errors. “It is called a tagelharpa. It is a bowed instrument that was popular in many Scandinavian places for some time, but now is commonly played in Estonia, I believe. My matka, my mother, taught it to me. It works much like a violin, with four strings, though the designs are different. You also do not play it on your shoulder. I am unsure if you even could, as there is no easy way to bow the strings. My matka learned it from her matka, and so on.” She’s using the Polish word for mother, _matka_, as she can’t help but have a little Polish slip out every now and again. Naomi’s suggestion set in rather quickly, so it was likely that Isolde would’ve told her about it if she simply asked—though she understood she most likely had looked like she had not wanted to be bothered at all. “By myself I get too... Zdenerwowany. Nervous. So I tend to seek out locations with other people. I apologize if I bothered anyone. You do not look pleased.” Naomi grins, leaning back on the couch with a sideways look at Harm, catching their expression. She shrugs - "I'm just wonderin', and impatient." She doesn't interrupt again though, nodding as the redhead explains. "Tagelharpa," she repeats, rolling the word around on her tongue. "Nah, it's beautiful. I just wanted to know what it is." Naomi brushes a wayward loc away from the scales on her forehead, looking at Isolde with a curious look. "You Estonian, then?" Harm shrugs, then tilts their head at the explanation. "Thank you," they say, sounding a little disoriented. "I mean, I was wondering, too. I just don't think that was..." They bite their lower lip, their knitting coming to a halt, their shoulders pulling inward. "That seemed kind of unnecessary?" "I'd tell her that's horrifying, but it doesn't seem safe." Kavalam's eyes have opened a little bit wider. His lips twitch into a small smile as Harm stops knitting, his dark eyes intent on Naomi. "Would you like to be invisible?" He's twisting back towards his roommate, brows lifting. "It does come in handy some of the time." “Nie. Erm... no. I’m Polish. Some people mistake my accent for Russian or Ukrainian, some words are similar. So we can understand each other sometimes. But I do not encounter many people like that.” She also mispronounces similar, coming out as simillar, with two l sounds. She shakes her head, disappointed in her lack of English, though she’s actually quite eloquent for someone with English as a second language. The redhead takes some time to quickly run and put away her tagelharpa, as her room is not far from the rec-room, before she comes back and sits back down. “I know you did something to me, Naomi. I couldn’t physically resist answering your question. Not that I wanted to, but it came out of me more easily than I would have let it. I assume that was your doing. Then again, most here are of a... special variety, so I assume you possess abilities such as I.” "Polish. Got it." Naomi leans her head to one side. "I don't know neither of those." A look to Harm, then back to Isolde, and her face falls a little, flitting from a frustrated furrow of the brow to a look of resignation. "Sorry," she mutters. "Just wasn't sure you would wanna stop." She crosses her arms. "I ain't stopping you from showin' off too if you wanna." Harm's face twitches. "It's not about showing off, it's about --" They stammer for a moment, frustrated. "Did you forget that entire thing with Professor Xavier? Well, you're doing that, for no good reason." There's a tremor in their words, and they shrink back into the couch, looking to Kavalam. "Oh no, I probably said too much. I'll take that disappearing, please?" Kavalam's brows raise higher, and here he covers his mouth with one hand, hiding the laugh that wells up. "Oh, no, one minute, sheri? Maybe your small holiday did not sink in, the reminder could do many people a good." Isolde has no idea who Harm is talking to after their remarks to Naomi, nor is she able to figure out how to introduce herself without interrupting the conversation they seem to be having with themself. Not wanting to be rude and disturb them, she keeps quiet on their end and instead introduces herself to Naomi instead. “Isolde Kowalski. Miło cię poznać. I mean... nice to meet you. Forgive me. I tend to slip back into Polish quite a bit. But I ask that you do not use your ability on me again. As for ‘showing off’, I am aware that you were not speaking to me, but I shall show you anyway.” She speaks, before three claws each make their way out from in between her knuckles. She keeps the ones in her feet retracted for now. “This is my ability. It may not seem like much, but it is not my main ability. However, I cannot show you that without undergoing harm, and that is not something I wish to do tonight.” The claws retract, and the wounds almost immediately close, though if Naomi looks closely enough, she may be able to spot them doing so. That is her true ability, a healing factor. Naomi shrinks further back into the couch. “S’not the same,” she mumbles, “but I’ll tone it down. Sorry.” She’s got one lip stuck out in a bit of a pout now, but her tone is sincere enough. One eyebrow arches when Harm talks to the void, and her mouth opens to ask a question when Isolde unsheathes. “Sweet Jesus!” Naomi yelps, scrambling to pull her legs onto the couch. Her eyes go wide wide. “Why aren’t you bleeding out, girl?” Harm's eyes grow wide and fearful, but they nod jerkily. They subside a little at Naomi's apology. "Maybe it's not the same, but it seems kind of similar to me. I certainly don't want to talk to someone who's just going to mind-control me if they get impatient, or annoyed, or --" They gasp, jumping up and dropping their knitting when Isolde pops out her claws. "What the -- what?!" Kavalam's fingers clench hard down against the couch, shoulders hunching and eyes wide. His, abrupt "what," is very flat. The ripple of power that expands out from him is strong and sudden, pulling Harm along with him into a shroud of obscurity. “Well, my true ability...” She trails off as Harm and Kavalam—who she never saw— seem to disappear. She pays it no mind, assuming Harm decided to leave and makes a point to apologize to them later. “My true ability is a healing factor. It prevents me from bleeding out every time I use my claws. And these are not the only ones I possess, I also have four in my feet, but I do not wish to ruin my boots. These are nice boots, and I would like them to last.” She said, explaining everything to Naomi as best as she could come up with. “That does not mean it does not hurt when they come out, however.” She takes off her jacket for a bit, not seeing the point in having it on as it appears to be quite nice in the room. This reveals Isolde has also slightly unbuttoned her shirt—though she maintains the modesty expected of a Xavier’s School student. “I apologise if I have frightened you. I should have given you a warning.” "Warning would have been good, yeah," Naomi breathes, slowly putting her legs back on the floor. She leans in closer - "That is sick though." She turns - "Isn't it -" she begins before realizing Harm has gone. Her face falls. "Huh. Okay." She looks up at Isolde, grins a little, slight forgotten. "I like your vibe, I think." She stands up, stretches a bit. "Wanna find a music room? Show off more tagelharpa?" “If you would like me to, I suppose. I like your scales. Do they serve a purpose, or are they your... ability, as I call them?” She asks, though very carefully, not wanting to be rude. Being rude is the last thing she needs, especially to someone who can influence her so easily. She somewhat finds that interesting, but doesn’t want to see how far Naomi can go with it. Not yet. Isolde grabs her jacket, and places it back on, just so she can carry her tagelharpa when it comes time. “I like yours as well, I suppose. Though I do not approve of your constant use of your power, judging by what your friend said. I wish I would have gotten to thank them.” Naomi shrugs. "The scales came in with the smooth talking. I dunno why." A beat, and she adds - "My eyes go weird when I'm doing my mutation thing. So I'm just talking right now. If you're fussed about it." She bites her lower lip. "Harm's cool," she says. "They're around. I dunno if they're my friend, exactly." She stares a minute at the void where Harm was, then shrugs. "If you don't wanna hang, that's cool too, I guess." Her affect is a little overdone, overplaying the detachedness to ill effect. “Why would I not want to... hang with someone like you, Naomi? I find you quite... likable. Not... not in that way, but.. I meant moreso as a person. You still have a lot to learn, as you’re younger than I, but I still have much to learn as well.” She says, nodding a bit to try in a poor attempt to reassure Naomi. Admittedly she hasn’t picked up on every English expression yet, but she’s working on it. “I find your scales to be quite beautiful. I quite like them. I do not know what purpose they serve, but they are unique, and that makes them significant.”