Logs:Pretty Clueless

Pretty Clueless
Dramatis Personae Gaétan, Spencer	2020-09-28 "That's -- that's a pretty big deal." (Immediately after running into Tomas.)
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. It's almost suppertime and most students are either back at the mansion or headed that way. Two figures are still out on the grounds, though, a little distant from an archery target bristling with arrows, though it's starting to get a bit too dark for proper shooting. Spencer is still dressed sharply in a white button-down, a blue paisley tie, black slacks, black oxfords, and a plain black velvet kippah, though he's lost his jacket somewhere along the way. His shoulders are hunched and his fingers flutter lightly at the seams of his slacks. "He is pretty clueless," he allows, at last, "but that was still kinda harsh. For you." He chews on his bottom lip, stares at the target thoughtfully. "You got something on your mind?" "Pretty clueless?" Gaétan is kneeling, tucking his bow back into its case before he stands. "What kind of disrespectful douchebag -- you're telling me if you had a roommate who was, I don't know, Jain or Roma or, you know, Amish, you wouldn't google that? Ask them literally anything about their culture? Try to learn the bare minimum to make sure you're gonna be a respectful roommate? It would have taken five seconds for him to learn there's zero way that jerk is Amish but he doesn't care to learn about people, he just wants to talk about himself and pretend creepily staring is curiosity." He zips up the case, standing and starting to walk down to the target. "What on earth would I have on my mind. Tomas is the only person at this school who's ever had an anxiety, or been bullied, or known a single hardship, probably." His fingers scuff through his hair, shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't -- you have --" His breath hisses out through his teeth. "It was a weird weekend." "I'd do so much research. Well, now I would..." Spencer sounds just a touch sheepish. "A couple of years ago I probably would have just annoyed them to death with really disrespectful questions. I guess I find his problems a little bit relatable. Still, I get that was frustrating. Maybe I'd have been madder, if I had the energy." He pads along after Gaétan. "Hey, it's ok. I mean, I'm gonna have cancer for a while. I don't want you to just like. Stop talking to me about stuff just cuz I'm sick." He reaches out and flicks the arrow stuck dead-center in the bulleye. "That was a nice shot." He glances at Gaétan sidelong. "Weird how?" "And that would've sucked! But you'd have had an interest. In them. And gone about it the wrong way, because you're clueless. His problem isn't being clueless, that's just his excuse." Gaétan starts tugging the arrows hard, yanking them one by one out of the target. "Weird..." He hesitates, his shoulders tightening. He doesn't answer at first. Shoves the first arrows back in his quiver, keeps yanking. "My brothers say I'm a mutant after all. I mean, everyone else in my family is, so it's not like -- but. It's -- it's just. I don't know." Spencer frowns at the explanation of how the examples differ, but does not argue. He seems content to watch Gaétan retrieve his arrows, tapping his fingers in rhythmic turn with the thumbs of the same hand. When the revelation finally comes his eyes go wide-wide. "Oh!" His expression brightens and almost -- almost! -- lapses into a grin. Though he manages to reel it in, it's clearly a struggle for him to affect neutral interest. Probably this would have fooled very few people, but certainly not one who knows him as well as Gaétan. "That's -- that's a pretty big deal. And I mean, it is a bit of a surprise, right? With the tests and all." His skinny frame practically vibrates with excited tension. "Do they know what you...what your mutation is?" Gaétan's shoulders tighten up further at Spence's almost-smile. His head ducks as he pulls at the last few arrows, jamming them in the quiver as well. "I don't know." More clipped than before. "I mean, we don't know. Matt just -- he can feel it, you know? We still need to figure out the rest. I just had thought -- it's a lot to --" He blinks hard, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. "When I know more I'll tell you, though." "Sorry," Spence says with a guilty duck of his head. "I know you probably feel all kinds of complicated about it, and that's ok!" He licks his lips. "I mean I've been like this since I was so little and -- it's not like I didn't have a hard time with it, but I've had a long time." His hands clasp together, fingers digging into opposing palms. "You've had like -- a day. You don't have to be excited or happy about it. You don't have to know how to feel about it at all. I'll be here to learn about it with you." He runs the tips of his fingers over the holes left in the target by the arrows. "Wanna hand with this? Then we can go grab some food." "I know you will. I just -- Thanks." Gaétan summons up a very small smile from somewhere. It disappears as he looks back to the target. "It's okay. I got it. You go on. I -- I don't really have that much of an appetite, anyway." "Me neither, honestly," Spencer chuckles softly. "But I know I gotta eat." He looks torn for a moment. "Maybe we can play a game, ok?" He throws his arms around Gaétan, squeezing -- not as tightly as he might normally. "If you feel up to it," he adds as he steps back. Another step back, a fluttery wave one of hand, and he's gone.