Logs:White Jesus
White Jesus | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia | 2023-10-22 "That makes you a legacy, don't it?" |
Location
<XAV> Lael, Avi, and Bryce's Dorm - Xs Second Floor | |
This is a double-occupancy room, and could be called generously sized except that it's been recently and hastily pressed into service for three occupants instead. Three sets of sets of furniture, sturdy and pleasant if basic, take up most of the floor space. Thanks to the furniture wrangling skills of whoever crammed the third set in--two of the beds are now bunked and the third lofted with its dresser tucked underneath--there is still room to maneuver. Granted, not very much room. Said furniture wrangler was presumably neither of the established occupants, since the decorations on the wall have not yet shifted to match. Here a world map filled with pins, there a scattering of art prints, and rustic hand-made ornaments in clay and wood. Two of the desks are quite neat, largely taken up with stationery and other implements of study. One set of hutch shelves is filled with tchotchkes from around the world, and the other with whimsical hand-carved wooden figurines alongside whimsical hand-thrown pottery. A large, fluffy dog bed protrudes out from under one of the desks, with an also large basket beside it full of dog toys. It's fairly easy to tell the newer set of furniture apart, and the new student who goes with them has made quick work of settling in. On the wall directly facing the entrance there is now a large framed poster depicting a very Caucasian Jesus, white-robed and red-sashed, standing fearless at the prow of a storm-tossed boat with his hand outstretched to calm the waters. By comparison, the little angel blowing a trumpet on the windowsill and the nightlight that reads "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam" seem fairly understated. The giant birdcage parked next to the lofted bed is less so, but it is notably empty, the largest of its many doors open. There's music playing in the room -- a slow violin cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" coming from the open laptop on the desk -- and it's just audible through the slightly cracked door. Also audible, is someone apparently tutting quiet to themselves, a soft tsk-tsk-tsk that ends in oddly stern admonishment: "Lengthen your stride." Is there anyone in the room? It doesn't at first glance appear so. Maybe the new mystery roommate is invisible. There's a spring in Lael's step as he makes his way down the hall, freshly returned from a weekend off-campus. He's wearing an olive drab jacket over a heather gray Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters tee, faded but sturdy blue jeans, and brown work boots, a black canvas backpack slung over one shoulder. He's trimmed his hair back to shoulder length, and presently it's waving slow and relaxed as if underwater and drifting on invisible currents. "It ain't even awkward for me," he's reassuring his roommate. "Naomi was a mite like that, before she manifested. I reckon it's the same with Aliza, on account of she thinks you're amazing, but I surely don't mind being cool by association." His locs curl in a little, a reflexive expression of an inward cringe. "She might want to be careful what she wish for, though." Badum-tsh -- Avi is making small air-drum motions at cool by association, and a small puffcloud of frost flutters out from his invisible cymbal tap. He's shouldering the door open, holding it longer than he otherwise might not just for Lael but for the hefty concrete block of dog lumbering slow behind him. "She probly at home staring hard in the mirror right now tryna will her hair to get a lil medusa vibe. Ion think snake run in our family, tho-o-o-ohhh." His words have trailed off into a bewildered stutter of a sound and now he's frozen in the doorway, head tilting one direction and then another as he stares at the large figure staring commandingly out from their wall. "... did Sailor Jesus just tell me to hurry it up?" "Beyond a shadow of a doubt," replies -- it's probably not Jesus, or if it is maybe he's got a cold; his squawky-high voice does not sound like it would put the fear of the Lord in a stormy sea or even a slightly unsteady teapot. "Oh! Oh oh oh wait I'm -- don't let Moab out, this place is so big she'll get lost --" There's a thump of footsteps coming from the boys' bathroom down the hall. The figure bolting back towards the room is covered in bold red and purple feathers down arms and head; they don't quite jive with the silky black floppy ears emerging from the side of his head or the long tan-and-white doglike muzzle of his face. "-- wooooah," Bryce is skidding to a halt fast enough that his new sneakers squeak on the wood floor of the hallway, "you've got a tank there -- umm, does he," abruptly worried as he looks between Chonk and the open dormroom door, "eat birds? Sorry I should have said hi first, hi, I'm -- I think I'm your roommate? Now?" Lael is immediately on alert, a much more deliberate menace now in the way his locs halo out to make him look larger. "Nah I think that's a..." He's frowning, but also relaxing as his eyes tick over the poster. "I guess that tracks, though the Lord probably don't approve--" Whatever speculation he was about to make dissipates with Bryce's dramatic entrance. His hair is rippling and curling out from his head again, but not in a raised-hackles sort of way this time. It's a beat before he manages, "Hi. You don't sound too sure 'bout that." He gently ushers Avi and Chonk through the door, his expression stoic and difficult to read, especially framed by the constant distraction of his squirming hair. "But being as your stuff's here anyhow, best you come on in." The wave of his hand is welcoming enough, and only Avi can hear his dry mental commentary, << Here I was thinkin' I knew from colorful white folk. >> "Woooah," Avi echoes, though it's lower and startled as he pivots on a heel to stare st Bryce. Blink -- another blink. In his head he is trying desperately to mash Bright Feathers with Dog Muzzle into some identifiable animal despite his own stern reminder to himself that not all physical mutants pick such a recognizable lane and stay in it. Still, he's vaguely distantly thankful for Lael's much less perplexing 'snake'. "Guess that's a trade-up," he finally says, "I was getting worried they'd saddled us with Jesus as a roommate while I was out. S'your name, then?" His eyes drop to Chonk and then look at Bryce, mouth twisting to the side as he finally ventures the rest of the way into the room, only to stop again several feet in and frown at the rearrangements. "He big but he ain't big enough to eat you. Anyway, he don't eat much that ain't put in his face by hand, this boy too damn lazy to cross the room for a snack let alone go bird-hunting." Bryce freezes, wide-eyed, when Lael's hair flares out, a discordant jumble of thoughts running through his head from << What, COOL, can I do that >> to << ... is it a sin to be a snake >> to << even the fiery furnace could not harm them, neither wild beasts nor poisonous serpents, because of the power of his word. >> to << Jesus is everywhere so that's kind of like a -- >> This part, at least, he says aloud a half second after it comes into his head, though the rest of his thoughts he's guiltily trying to push aside with some thought that it's probably not polite to ask someone if they are in league with the devil. "Jesus is always with us so I guess he's kind of like a roommate!" This is cheerful, a game attempt at a smile plastered onto his face though his eyes keep drifting back to Lael's hair and then determinedly pulling away to look his New Roommates in the eyes. He's half-remembering Dallen's bravery when confronted with an angel and this puts thoughts of proper Caution in his mind -- he's offering a feathered hand to each of his roommates to shake. "I'm Bryce. They told me the names of my roommates but that's all I know, um, anyway if this is your room then I'm your roommate but if you're looking for Avi or Lael I think they're out." Chonk's entrance into the room at least distracts him from Lael's Unnerving Hair; despite Avi's assurances he's casting around the room with worry. "Not me, I'm not going to get eaten by a dog I just mean my -- Moab!" He lifts an arm and, from where she's been hiding tucked between his lofted bed rail and the wall, a parrot -- conspicuously the same brilliant shade of red and purple as his feathers -- flutters over to settle on his arm, scooting up and down along his forearm as she surveys the newcomers with a small stream of whistles. "She'd be just a mouthful for him, what's his name?" "I'm Lael, he's Avi, and that there tank is Chonk." Perhaps Lael would be offended if he understood the purpose of the handshake, but even with the context of Bryce's thought process he just accepts it with a faintly bemused smile. "Pleasure to meet you. And...Moab?" He blinks at the parrot, then blinks at Bryce's strikingly similar feathers. "Well, y'all sure do match real good." His hair is relaxing again, though it does not stop moving. "S'a couple of things you should probably know before you get settled in." He looks around. "More settled in. First thing: I can hear your thoughts. Not all of them, and not all the time. I try to keep it tuned down real low, but ain't nobody perfect." His eyes track to Captain Jesus, then corrects to, "Almost nobody perfect. Second thing: I read the scriptures and I walk with Christ, but let's keep him in our hearts. He ain't our roommate." Avi looks confused at the handshake, his confusion accompanied mentally by The Office "this is a white" GIF, but he dutifully shakes hands after Lael. He's spooking, then, as the bird flutters over, starting back a little bit before his brain catches up to identifying the movement -- at which point all his thoughts are derailed by marvelling at the bird-boy similarity. "Hot damn how you get matching so good? Those feathers fire and so is your girl. Moab, you said?" He's tipping his chin up in a thankful acknowledgment of Lael's words, and continuing on in to frown at the new bed setup. "... bruh, you want up-bed or down-bed?" He's dropping his backpack onto his desk chair, at least this is still familiar. "And yeah, I got no beef with Jesus but I got no truck with him either." "Moab, it's like, the most gorgeous place on earth there's these huge red rock structures and amazing canyons and -- it's also in the Bible," Bryce acknowledges after his initial burst of excitement, though he's inwardly thinking that it probably couldn't possibly be as beautiful as his Moab -- the city or the bird -- and then also considering whether or not it's bad to think something like that of a Biblical place, even if it was a place full of sinners. Then considering, with even greater chagrin, that this new roommate of his heard all that?! << what do you DO do you think sorry >> << oh no do my thoughts have to uplift and edify others now >>, he's making a mental note to Google 'how do you stop thinking' once he is sure Moab will be safe from eating. "He's always in my heart," he finally manages aloud, with some small confusion that quite easily resolves itself into: << Ohhhh, he probably hasn't read all the Scriptures >> -- he doesn't get around, just yet, to asking Lael if he's read Christ's restored gospel because he's puzzling over: "... truck with?" "I ain't particular." Lael glances at the bunk bed, unconcerned, as he sets his own backpack down. "I'll take up-bed unless you want it, long as I can keep my huntin' gear under yours. We gon' have to do some rearranging anyhow." He perks up at Bryce's description of his Moab, hair growing more animated. "Well, Biblical Moab's present day Jordan, which is all desert highlands, if you're into that. Where's your Moab at? The one with the red rocks." He twitches a smile. "The one with the red feathers I can see." He shakes his head. "You don't gotta apologize for what you think. That's real hard to control, and trying too hard just makes it noisier for folks like me, though there's a class you gotta take helps with that." He leans back against the sturdy frame of the bunk bed. "I don't hold what I overhear against you if you don't hold it against me for overhearing. That includes however we might disagree on scripture." To Avi, << If I was ever as clueless 'bout the Jewish stuff as this kid probably gon' be, I'm very sorry. >> "There weren't ever a time folks didn't disagree, or there'd only be one gospel. Don't mean the disciples respected each other any less." "Truck with, uh, like, Jesus and I don't hang. I'm Jewish. -- Up-bed's all yours." Avi accordingly plops himself down on the lower bunk, and he's nodding along to Bryce's description. "That's, uh, that's Arches park out there, right? I ain't been yet but it's on my list, I'mm'a hit up every national park one day. Pictures look gorgeous." His slightly crooked smile might be at the thought of hiking in Arches or might be about, << you was clueless but you didn't hang no Captain Jesus to watch me sleep. >> His head tips back against a leg of the bed, smooshing his tiny locs into a small splay that is likely far less alarming than Lael's. "Where'd you roll in from, uh --" << Bruce? nah it was whiter'n that. >> He's pulling his phone casually out of his pocket, opening his email to search 'please welcome' until it pulls up a whoooole string of emails informing him of each New Kid On Campus. He's looking through the latest ones << Shit Roscoe's here? >> is both excited and worried, then thumbing past that, << Dallen? it wasn't Dallen. >> to, "Bryce," << wait >> "-- Allred?" is kind of wary and kind of sympathetic, "I know a Dr. Allred. Coupla Dr. Allreds," << Doctors Allred? >> and he's thinking, guiltily, of DJ unconscious in the medlab, and thinking, with a conflicted disgust, of Lily in her labcoat at Lassiter, and thinking, more vaguely, of shaky cellphone camera footage of some murderous Guardians and reverent whispers in the labs. "-- that lady all over the news, I'onno if she any relation." "Jesus was Jewish," Bryce tells Avi, with a knowing nod, "and he died to save all of us." He's just as quick to reassure Lael: "Oh, I don't disagree with the Bible I know the Bible is true! It's just, there's been new revelation after that," he's saying this very earnestly as he hastens over to his desk to get the Book of Mormon where it sits beside his laptop, "and not everybody knows about it yet." Lael, he is thinking happily as he offers the book out, will know about it soon. Moab has climbed up to his shoulder with a quiet string of whistles and a few very not-quiet HONKs that are oddly punctuated by, "I know the Church is true [HONK]". Bryce's feelings at the mention of Drs Allred tumble into a very confused mix -- it's pride and it's grief and it's love and it's defensiveness and it's a fury he can't quite recognize. His cheerful tone doesn't falter, though his floppy ears have pressed themselves back and his head dips slightly. "Oh, yeah! That's Lily, she's my sister. My brother was a doctor, too, he went here! But, um, he's an angel now." Lael, at least, can see that he isn't saying this as some euphemistic mention of death, although Dawson is, in fact, dead; his assertion of angel comes with a very much walking and talking image of the man, in Bryce's memory haloed in firelight that cuts through increasingly terrifying shadows, swooping him and a small and injured Asian boy out of a tall canyon and bringing them safely home. "... you know them?" At "Jesus was Jewish", Lael thinks a sympathetic << oh Lawd here we go >> at Avi. "Not everyone believes that. I reckon Avi done already heard everything you can think to tell him 'bout Jesus, and more. If he wants to learn more, he know where to find us. And churches." He looks faintly taken aback at being offered the book himself, but is saved the awkwardness of refusing it when Avi reveals Bryce's surname. His brows furrow slowly at Bryce's elaboration, and he glances aside at Avi when Lily's name comes out. "Your brother used to teach here, too. I took his class, he was a good..." He trails off, hair squirming uncomfortably, then re-routes to "...angel? I s'pose we've heard wilder things about him. I'm sorry for your loss." He dips his head slightly, looking down at Chonk and then back up at the somewhat preachy parrot. "That makes you a legacy, don't it?" "Oh, don't worry, there's hella Jewish people I'on hang with like that." Avi doesn't eye-roll outwardly but inward there's a mild exasperation -- admittedly, it's mingled more heavily with amusement and recollections of the many (many) times over the years some bible-thumper on base has attempted similar overtures. He blinks when the book comes out, and some light bulb has just clicked on in his head: << oh dang he thattaway >> has much the same mental tone you might imagine an aunty taking towards Jax or Matt. "Oh I got one of those," it's definitely unread, "I met plenty y'all out on my last base." He's sombering at the confirmation of Bryce's siblings, and with a glance to meet Lael's he's trying to will himself to think more positive thoughts about Lily << she was doing it for us >> but this does not have much effect on the ingrained horror; he satisfies himself, instead, with thinking about the many (many) people he's heard sing Dawson's praises and not bothering to try and wrap his head around where the Extradimensional Dr. Allred fits into this equation at all. "Dang, your brother he sounded like a real solid guy, I'm sorry. Guess we don't needa give you the whole Xavier's Crash Course, then, huh?" "Oh, I, um." Bryce's guilty feeling is swelling, uncertain and untethered though it is. "Never -- met him. You met him? On the, on the jet, Mr. Salinas was telling me stories --" The stories in question include a flaming sword and a dragon to ride and a ton of heroic rescue, and Bryce is deeply skeptical of which parts of this to believe and which not to, given all the outlandish things he's heard about his eldest brother -- mostly negative for years, and then bafflingly, disproportionately lionizing -- but some aching part of him wants to simply take Joshua's stories at face value and use them to color the strange empty space in his life where Dawson should have been. "Anyway I guess he had lots of friends here. I'm -- hoping that means it'll be..." He trails off, feathers shifting in what might be a wrinkle of his brow. Means it'll be what? He bites his lip and doesn't finish, instead hugging the Book of Mormon close to his chest. "... what's your crash course like?" "I'm sorry," comes a little lower this time as Lael looks their new roommate up and down. "He was pretty great, and a lot of folks here loved him. I bet you'll hear no end of stories if you ask around here." His hair twists and curls << Think this is real complicated for him, too, >> he tells Avi. << Ain't nothing 'bout that family straightforward. >> "Well, you probably got the tour already, but if you ain't been 'round the smaller outbuildings there's a boathouse and wood shop and stables. We can tell you what classes to avoid, which teachers are pushovers..." He glances aside at Avi thoughtfully, then back at their new roommate. "How'd you feel about ice skating?" |