The -Dreaded- Pop In, JEAN-VIV, (MISS DARKHOLME, PIETRO?)

[Paige Guthrie]

1st Feb. 5:07 pm

This place looked familiar - more the feel of how it was to walk the path from the Xavier Institute to the front door - as if she had walked the path before. Perhaps it was just because she had heard about the infamous Brotherhood house from the other girls (and guys) at the X-mansion. That had to be it. There was no possible way that a best friend like Terry could trick her into egging a house where her crush lived. No possible way.

Stopping in front of the door she noted how delapitated the residence was (she definitely would have noticed this place before if she'd been to it) and it sounded like all Jean-Viv's accounts of it. Paige wasn't the queen of cleanliness (anything but), so she could see what Jean-Viv would like about the place - but at the Xavier Institute you could live like you pleased (generally) and some guys liked to live in a reasonable amount of filth... ok, nothing to this degree - but still.

What if his murderous boss opened the door? The very same Principal Darkholme from school. Well, Paige had that covered. It wasn't unnusual for a grade grubbing little brat student to track down a principal for a little one on one chat about their lack of ideal results in a particular class (and history class was that in particular which had become a recent dark spot on her record - as she had been marked down to a straight A for over-elaboration on certain questions during a test - the hide of her teacher!). If Paige didn't get to see Jean-Viv at least she could get that straightened out (though she was hoping it wouldn't come to that).

She rechecked the text message that he had sent her that morning and didn't think to risk popping in to detention again, not after seeing Terry in there (and no Jean-Viv who probably had other girls to bail him out of there now), so she decided on this - a more direct approach. Hearing her knuckles rap on the door she felt a tightening in her stomach. There was nothing wrong with popping in and casually finding out what was happing in the Brotherhood house for Valentine's Day... so then what made her feel like she was entering the lion's den all of a sudden?

[Jean-Viv Leclair]

Jean-Viv was bored. Probably because he kept skipping detention which then gave him nothin' to do, but there was nothing to do in Room 402 - where he was probably gonna live until he was freaking fifty years old because nobody had a sense of humor about spiders and mini-bombs and fire alarms- especially since Blondie didn't show up anymore. And that kind of sucked. Plus he had bigger fish to fry, he found a freaking dead dog[/i last month (which only made it five fucking times better than he snatched those tickets because -who- wants to find a dead dog with their [i]brother? Lame. Super lame. Noel wouldn't have thought it was cool anyway, he didn't think -anything- was cool). Plus, it was Valentine's month. Which he never really celebrated before, mostly just screwed with other gag-me happy couples by pulling stunts. With super glue. And water guns. But this time it was different. Sorta.

But how to impress her. Really had to do better than the tarantula, though he had been pretty proud of himself for his first give-a-legit-gift-to-a-girl thing, even if it was just a stupid holiday exchange. And she got him a pretty badass gift. Science wasn't so bad. When it involved making crazy shit. Maybe he wouldn't skip Chem next year, maybe, if they really made stink bombs like everybody said. JV wanted a freaking factory of stink bombs! "Not like we need them around here," he muttered abruptly, slouching down in front of the TV. With Toad hanging around. Though he wasn't around now, which was fucking awesome, because Jean-Viv was getting sick of Scudrush, it wasn't his name! And half the time, everybody called him that. It sucked to be the noobie (still). There was nothing on TV though, and JV was itching to do something illegal but he trashed all his fireworks at the warehouses, shit, damn.

He needed something with pancake mix. Maybe. Pancake balloons? And some toothpicks...and some...door! Aha! Cool! JV popped up his head at the sound and got up, wondering if it was Lame-o Lance who'd forgotten a key or something (did they even lock the door? Not without the Boss Lady around). Or hell, maybe Pietro slowed down for once so Jean-Viv could blurt out all the shit he learned about Tabby Smith during that ski weekend. Gah, it sucked being on his own! 'Course, when he did open the door (cuz it couldn't be Mystique, she wouldn't knock at her own house unless it was some shapeshifter mind trick of death), he didn't expect to see a girl. That girl. Blonde. His- well, not yet, not really, but...um, that's what he called her to the guys when the guys were actually paying attention (basically never).

But hey, this wasn't some walk in the park! And JV's initial grin abruptly disappeared because what the fuck! This was the fucking boarding house of the badass brotherhood of Bayville, and whoa, that was a lot of 'B's. "Blondie! What are- I said we should hang out, I didn't say we should ambush the BossLadyandgetkilled!" Yeah, the -last- guy (he was eavesdropping) who got found out, aka Lance, Mystique almost knocked his head through the freaking coffee table! What if she did that to JV?! What if lost a tooth? Teeth? Had to get braces, hell no. Would totally ruin the image. He slunk outside of the Brotherhood door and pulled Paige over to the far end of the porch with a, "What if she opened the door? What would you do? Cuz I could not take her on and win!" Not that he was, um, worried or anything. Or lame like that. Jean-Viv let go of Paige's arm with a suspicious glance over her shoulder, okay, no Mystique's car. Maybe she was on a trip. She did that sometimes. So. Nobody else was here. They were safe. For now. Holy hell.

He sighed and cracked a grin at her that was half-pleased and half-semi-sort-of-embarrassed, "You've got balls though." There was a lot of admiration in his tone as he shoved his hands in his pockets and decided, uh, yeah, it was still fucking winter, he should have grabbed a jacket. Bah, whatever, he was a guy, didn't need a coat, didn't need to look like a sissy in front of Paige. "Soo...what's up? You're okay, right? Cuz...uh, you didn't text me back, unless my phone's broken," which it could be since he dropped it some mac and cheese the other day. Right. But to important stuff. That he was not gonna sound awkward about, right? Uh. Well. "Um. You...got plans for...this crappy chick holiday coming up?" He hastily corrected himself, "You know, it wouldn't be...that bad to...do something...if you want. Something legal." Promises. Mostly legal. Sigh. The lengths he went to impress girls, not breaking the law, pfft. But Blondie was special, and screw Noel, like his brother was ever gonna get a date outside of his ten cats anyway.

[Paige Guthrie]

"Blondie! What are- I said we should hang out, I didn't say we should ambush the BossLadyandgetkilled!"

Still with one hand gripping her phone, she wondered if she should have brought anything to show Miss Darkholme... ratting out undermining a teacher's authority should come with some sort of paperwork... It was almost a relief when the door was pulled open by the one she'd initially come to see and she exchanged his grin until he lost his and sounded like he was freaking out on her. It was just a house right? There was nothing wrong with going to a house (even one filled with "dangerous" mutants).

"What if she opened the door? What would you do? Cuz I could not take her on and win!"

But then he pulled her over to the side of the porch and started acting all paranoid. "I'm not worried about that- I needed to see her about my history results anyway." Her history results and maybe some other things... like maybe if she was supposed to ask the guardian's permission to ask Jean-Viv to the Valentine's Day Dance. Probably not. Firstly Jean-Viv wasn't the girl in the situation, and it wasn't a particularly ordinary living circumstance. "You shouldn't be scared about the person who gives you a roof over your head, not the type of scared for your life..." That was her way of dropping the hint that he should just come to the X-mansion already - a hint she felt necessary to drop within every meeting with him.

"You've got balls though."

He complimented her and then shoved his hands in his pockets and the fear (for the moment) seemed to have passed. "Thanks." Her cheeks flushed. Having "balls" or guts as she would have put it, was a good thing. It meant that she could be daring in the face of danger even if he was cowering in front of it and that was a prerequisite to X-men-like behavior. It was just too bad that a certain twin of his didn't feel the same way about having guts to do things others wouldn't. Said certain twin didn't really care much about a lot of things though and Paige tried not to take it personally (even though it still bothered her every time she walked past his door).

"Soo...what's up? You're okay, right? Cuz...uh, you didn't text me back, unless my phone's broken,
Um. You...got plans for...this crappy chick holiday coming up? You know, it wouldn't be...that bad to...do something...if you want. Something legal."

Was there a trace of concern in his voice? Maybe she was just imagining things (after reading too many girl-issue oriented magazines), so she shook her head slowly. "I just thought I'd drop by- you're not in detention much," she stated and tried to get the idea out of her head that another girl was helping him out. "I mean I came by, room 402... just after the ski trip to talk about the mutant body and everything..." but he wasn't there, and she had better things to be doing anyway, like figuring out what to do the next time her skin decided to go copper on her. But then he subtly mentioned Valentine's day and she felt her throat go dry (even though he called it a "chick holiday"). "I was going to ask you to the dance... but you had," she cleared her throat, "other things to do last dance - the Halloween dance - so if you didn't want to go..." her eyes gazed out to the neighbors place as she trailed off preoccupied with her askew focus on nothing in particular. "I'm sure we could find something else legal. I'm sure there's some studying that I could help you with," and you'd be a lot more open to the idea than Noel. Her eyes found his again and she gave him a hopeful smile, realizing now was the fun time you waited for a rejection... oh well, it's all a learning experience.

This post has been edited by Paige Guthrie on Oct 6 2009, 05:30 PM

[Jean-Viv Leclair]

History results? What? "Are you for real?" he demanded, halfway through a disbelieving laugh, man, she had a straight face and everything. "Cuz that's a hell of a joke. She's not the principal, Blondie- I mean, she is, but you know who she is, right? Mystique! Freaking scary as hell, like, this tall..." He waved a hand wildly above his head to indicate the Boss Lady's craziness, and his own 'wtf' over the fact that Blondie was actually...uh, for real, that was fucking Twilight Zone, the thought of her with Mystique doing homework? Seriously? The only shit worth learning around here was er, chores were for suckers annnd be quick enough to dodge a bulle- aw man, not this again. Forget it, the bullet part cuz Blondie was doing it again; saying he shouldn't be scared of Mystique? Or, uh, his 'guardian', whatever- hey, he wasn't a girl! Or a coward! "Not afraid, okay, and your bossman creeps me out a helluva lot more. He can get in your head and stuff! Freaking weird!" JV touched the back of his skull for a second, like he could just feel that old guy probing around his brain like a friggin' alien.

Despite the fact that she was probs right, sorta, about the whole always-thinking-Mystique-might-flip-her-shit, he liked the Brotherhood. Liked being his own boss when the Boss Lady wasn't around, and it was way badassery than the X-Geeks. He gave a mischievous, sideways smile, "Should give it a chance. We're a fuckload more fun than your...friends." Except Boom Boom maybe, she was alright. Hey, and Magneto snagged Blondie (which sorta pissed him off, but she was here, right? She could join the cool club...). And anyway, why freak out? Didn't seem like anybody was around, so maybe he could away with it...just chilling with her for a few. Catching up. Being awesome and smooth, like Pietro. Only, ya know, not. Valentine's Day and all. Kinda big deal for girls, and he didn't know what the hell he was doing but...uh, it involved her. If she wanted to be involved, and screw everybody else (except the Boss Lady). Just cuz Lance couldn't get a date with an X-Geek didn't mean JV was gonna have that kind of bad luck! He was way more like Pietro!

Cept Pietro didn't get detention but er, hm. JV leaned against the house with a scuff of one shoe, "Yeeeah, uh, I've been skipping. Too much shit to do- but I do go. I just- you gotta text me!" he interrupted himself, lurching back into his usual slouch and a scowl. Whoa, hold up, she came by? To talk about the dead guy?! And he wasn't there? Fuck. "I've been working with dry ice, using it to blow up shit, I just- Baldy have anything to say about it? Cuz none of the guys believe me..." That there was a big freaking chicken-man at the ski resort? What? What was so friggin hard to believe about that? Bah, whatever. JV gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering, and he figured if he fucking got frostbite and lost his fingers, that would suck. Especially cuz there was the dance to- hold up! His expression was huh? combined with some pleased surprise (and some arrogance tossed in, and Jean-Viv yanked his hands out of his pockets (coming away with some denim fuzz that fell on the floor, oh, and a quarter, badass).

He started to shake his head almost instantly- what the hell, 'other things'? The Halloween dance? Didn't even fucking count! "Wellyeah, but those were just orders, ya know, cuz we had to snatch Cerebro but this time, we've got nothing. Jack shit. So..." So...so if she still wanted to ask, he wasn't going to keep awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other (it was cold, alright, not him being nervous over a girl asking him to a dance- fuck, would he have to get flowers? Red? Red worked, yeah? Pink? Did she even like pink? She wasn't like most girls, and not just cuz she turned into a tree-chick sometimes). Studying? Studying?! HAH! Hahaha! He actually did break into something of a snort-laugh, not so much...trying to be an asshole as...she thought he'd rather study than go to th-

JV quickly recovered with a certain uncharacteristic pause. Smile disappeared. He stepped into her space, swallowed awkwardly- "What I mean is, uh, yeah. Yeah, I want to go- not study, you study too much- we should just hang. You should, um...stick around. Til the Boss Lady gets home," He licked his lips, recalling the other thing he was in the middle of saying. Right. Fuck. Smooth, dude. "The dance. With you. It'd be badass...I mean, I would've asked you but..." Against the Hawkins rules and all. He laughed again, a bit forced, awkward, man, he felt kinda stressed. Stressed in a good way. Didn't really- this'd be his...first...um, date-dance. Legit...date. Dance. With...her. Right. Man up, dude! Wake the fuck up! "So...you're, uh, wearing a dress...and all that stuff? Want flowers? Cuz I can steal you some flowers and shit, there's this funeral home and the old guy who runs it is way too slow so..." Yep. Mr. Romantic, stealing from dead peoples' flower arrangements. Ah well, it was free! Ish.

[Paige Guthrie]

"Are you for real? Cuz that's a hell of a joke. She's not the principal, Blondie- I mean, she is, but you know who she is, right? Mystique! Freaking scary as hell, like, this tall..."
"Not afraid, okay, and your bossman creeps me out a helluva lot more. He can get in your head and stuff! Freaking weird!"
"Should give it a chance. We're a fuckload more fun than your...friends."

Staring at him blankly as he explained that Miss Darkholme was tall, she just shrugged. He wasn’t afraid- yeah right and that’s why he had to tell stories about her trying to kill him over a burrito (Paige found it hard to believe that her Principal was that scary). ”Professor Xavier cares about what’s best for us, he wouldn’t go invading our head or our privacy unless he thought we were in danger.” He had a lot of ideas about the X-men that simply were not true. She sighed, ”It’s not about being more fun, it’s about doing what’s right” It didn’t seem fitting to correct him yet again that they weren’t her friends – it wasn’t even about making friends – leading a team of X-men, trust didn’t have to come from friendship, it came from respect and that was something that she could offer.

"Yeeeah, uh, I've been skipping. Too much shit to do- but I do go. I just- you gotta text me! I've been working with dry ice, using it to blow up shit, I just- Baldy have anything to say about it? Cuz none of the guys believe me..."
"Wellyeah, but those were just orders, ya know, cuz we had to snatch Cerebro but this time, we've got nothing. Jack shit. So..."

”Well, it’s alright… that you weren’t there. I’m glad you’ve been-“ experimenting? Blowing stuff up? ”-busy. Professor Xavier didn’t talk to me about what happened specifically, but he might have talked to Tabitha.” She looked down at the quarter that fell from his pocket, letting it capture her interest while he made excuses for what happened at the dance last time. She noticed his laugh but the reason behind it (the mention of study) passed right by her (study was a completely legitimate way to spend a night). But then he stepped closer to her and she could no longer use her diversion technique of pretending there was something interesting going on at the neighbors.

"What I mean is, uh, yeah. Yeah, I want to go- not study, you study too much- we should just hang. You should, um...stick around. Til the Boss Lady gets home,"
"The dance. With you. It'd be badass...I mean, I would've asked you but..."
"So...you're, uh, wearing a dress...and all that stuff? Want flowers? Cuz I can steal you some flowers and shit, there's this funeral home and the old guy who runs it is way too slow so..."

The dance (with her) would be… badass? That was a compliment wasn’t it? It meant he wanted to go, she could tell from his expression (and the fact that he’d said he would have asked her). ”So you’ll go as my… boyfriend?” May as well push her luck while she was here… but then he had to keep talking – a dress… flowers… a funeral home? ”I guess I’ll wear a dress, but you don’t have to worry about flowers, I wouldn’t want you to-“ steal from a funeral home? ”It’s probably better to leave the flowers where they are, I’m sure they were put there for a reason.”

She gave his earlier offer of sticking around some consideration, but of course she had a better idea (in the future). ”You should swap bodies with Noel again some time and then you can spend time with me at the X-mansion. Then you’ll get to see Jean-Viv 2 again and meet my roommate Terry and you’d get to see some of the experiments I’ve been working on.” Things were always more exciting when there were mutant abilities concerned. Speaking of which… ”How deep can you cut with your psychic cutting? Have you ever tried different consistencies of things? I bet you could cut through a lot of you put your mind to it.” She would bet that he could do a lot of things if he put his mind to it, the problem was that he didn’t put his mind to things.

She grabbed his right hand and inspected each of the fingers in turn as if this would account for some sort of physical assessment of his abilities, running her thumb over the tips of them. ”Your hands are cold” she mentioned bluntly before continuing, ”Is there anything we can practice on around here? I can’t just turn on my abilities for you to practice with… sorry, but I’d like to be around to experiment… notthatIjustwanttoexperiementonyou… I just think maybe it’s something we can do together, right now, if you wanted.” She rubbed her hands over his to warm it up. ”Are you cold? Do you want to go inside and warm up?” She took out her sleeves from her jacket. ”You can share my jacket if you like…” Just another step to getting closer to him, it was what she’d read about.

[Pietro Maximoff]

It was February. The most tiresome of months. December holidays could be waived by claiming he celebrated Hanukkah or Christmas, whichever happened to provide the legitimate alibi to get out of socialization in the company of the morons that failed to comprehend the truth of the matter—that they really didn’t know him. That he was a mutant and that they could never even hope to understand what that entailed. That all the things they so carefully manicured and highlighted had nothing to do for the long term attraction they hoped to gain from him because none of them would ever become entertaining enough to stay around for long. That he didn’t give a shit about any of them.

But February. February they all expected things. Expected him to be romantic. To woo them. To do something special. To choose them for whatever special shit he had to have in mind. Because that was what they expected. Something special. He didn’t give a shit. It was tiring to keep up the charming smile when he was so predisposed to scowling. Sure, at school during brief conversations with whichever ditz it happened to be that week, that day, he could do that, no effort. It was second nature, pretending. That much he’d inherited from the old man. But doing it constantly because they couldn’t simply leave him alone for a damn second. February was tiresome.

Fortunately no one at Bayville High School knew of his birthday. Outside of the Brotherhood, that is, but they hardly mattered so far as that went. Even just a few years ago he’d made sure that the more talkative girls knew of his birthday, assuring the fact that the entire female population of the school found out by the second week of February. Gossip was a pathetically powerful communicational device. The first two years after his departure from dear dad he’d thrived on all the attention the girls provided for his birthday. Something to make up for the lack of the Maximoffs, the lack of Wanda. But by freshman year it’d gotten old. He couldn’t stand all the girls, the attention, the need to pretend he cared that they thought they cared. They didn’t even know him, and if they did, they wouldn’t be congratulating him. So last year had been easy, though he’d arrived at the end of February. Lance was relatively easy to manipulate, getting a new designer shirt out of him hadn’t been too difficult, and there was no need to pretend that he gave a shit about anything beyond the gift. It’d been easy.

This year was not easy. Wanda. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that it was their damn birthday. Of course they had to be born together. He hadn’t gotten her a birthday present in five years. He had no idea what to get her, and this unusual, uncharacteristic loss of immediate choices was as unsettling as the fact that the Valentine’s Dance posters had been spotted at school already and that Lisa Hughes and Misty Vega had already asked him. February. The most annoying month of all. Maybe Lance would be up for going out instead of sulking around the House pretending to look at school work. Monday night hole-in-the-wall bars were just depressing enough after getting dinner someplace.

Then again, he could spare a minute to pause by the front door. The unmistakable sight of an X-kid. Scalpel. Hm. Because it was so obvious that Mystique was up for tolerating this crap considering the fact that she’d nearly cracked clueless Lance’s head on the living room table.
“-maybe it’s something we can do together, right now, if you wanted. Are you cold? Do you want to go inside and warm up? You can share my jacket if you like…”
Right, these kids, real aware of the big picture here, known as the game of ‘what time will the blue shapeshifter terrorist get back home’. Walking up the steps to the front porch, effectively invading their little scene of a more clueless version of “Romeo & Juliet: The Failure that people keep forgetting is a Tragedy”, he wasted no time on pleasantries, hardly known in the Brotherhood Boarding House anyway. “Mystique’s PTA meeting ends in ten minutes.” Or was it five. His gaze glanced over the girl momentarily before dropping back on the Brotherhood boy. “You ‘may’ want to get your lost X-Flock sheep out of here. The alternative could be getting a broken arm, but you probably want to do that yourself the next time you try to lunch-tray off the roof.”

[Jean-Viv Leclair]

Jean-Viv barely kept from rolling his eyes cuz he didn't buy it. People didn't do 'what was right', alright, they did what they wanted and if you didn't stick to those rules? You'd be the loser in the end, and he was not a friggin loser. "It's not like you know for sure, right? Telepaths are creepy! They can just skim your shit and you wouldn't even know." Like the CIA in your fav donut shop or something. Besides, 'Xavier' needed a cooler name, more badass, The Brainman. Maybe. Hm. But onto more important crap! The dance(s). Yup. He shrugged at the detention stuff, still pretty disappointed he missed her cuz those days he had gone alone, it'd been boring as shit, "My English teacher- aka Douchebag Extreme - said I'd be in detention 'til graduation! That's four years of fun, Blondie, we gotta coordinate our next escape." Or well, 'his' escape since she probs wasn't dumb enough to get caught trying to set the teach's desk fern on fire in the middle of class (was an accident, seriously!).

But uh, she asked him to the dance and all that juvenile delinquent shit sorta disappeared and he blurted out that yeah, he wanted to go. Why the hell not?! ”So you’ll go as my… boyfriend?” Huh? Wait, wh- JV blanched for a sec cuz really, Noel was pretty vocal that he'd never a gf and that was good since any girl who wanted to date him had to be- bah, fuck Noel! This was 'whoa'! This was serious, right? This took some serious consi- "Um, uh...sure? Yeah, sure." Brief guy-panic passing, and he rubbed at one cheek cuz he was not blushing, that was such a non-badass thing! "So...that'd make...you my girlfriend." Girlfriend. Huh. Ya know, on TV you always thought about those kinda creepy cheerleadery girls that stalked their boyfriends and made them wat- "No chick flicks, right?" Suspicious squint and a bit apprehensive, otherwise...cool. Paige would be an awesome girlfriend! She helped him bust outta the pokey! He didn't have -friends- who'd do that.

He waved a dismissive hand and flicked off the distant funeral home with a big middle finger, arguing confidently, "Nah, dead people don't even notice flowers, and you should have some cuz that's what...you're supposed to do. Um." Yeah, he was gonna have to speeddial Damon or Pietro asap for a fucking clue or five. Couldn't ask his brother, hah, was like asking a priest...a really jackassy priest, when you weren't even Catholic! Speaking of the Funless-Twin-in-Question? He raised an eyebrow at Paige, which shifted to an agreeable flash of teeth. Much as he thought the X-Geeks were all lame-beyond-the-universe (except for a couple), it did seem kind of cool. Swapping, hanging out, since well, they sure as hell couldn't hang out around here (even -he- recognized that much). "What sorta experiments?" Peaked his interest, and he thought the whole Mad Scientist gig was kinda cute, like hey, if she wanted to build some creepster monster out of jellybeans and dead guys, Frankenstein V. 2, he wouldn't complain! That stuff was fucking awesome! "Are you blowing shit up without me?" Or no, talking mutant abilities?

"Ah, dunno, never cut somebody's lungs up or nothing. Not that deep...but I could, I mean, I just- I just can't yet," Jean-Viv was quick to correct the seeming lameness of his not-yet-mortally-wounding powers cuz in all honesty, he hadn't used him, legit, in a long time. Just fucking around, but not on a live target! He kind of shrugged, took her shoulders in his hands and shook her slightly, "Consistency? Uh, like...what? You have to dumb it down, Blondie. You want to test stuff?" Like what? Wood? Plastic? Huh? He snapped his mouth shut when she grabbed his hand, cuz it was kind of like holding hands only she was in I'm-a-Fucking-Genius mode, and um, wait what? What was she- "Ye-ah?" It squeaked out, fuck, his voice cracked with his brief embarrassment and JV cleared his throat with a comically deeper, "I mean, yeah. Forgot my jacket." He didn't know what the hell he was doing, or how to handle it, or, you know, being this close to a 'girl' and not sticking gum in her hair or trying to steal her retainer or something equally stupid. Naw, he was just standing here like a fricking moron a-

"Ummm." Something to practice on? Huh? What? Practice what? Practice gf/bf stuff or- oh shit, no. "I- yeah, I think- we do it all the time, now?" Goddamnit, squeaking again! It was the whole hands thing, and JV's severe discomfort in not knowing -what- to do and knowing, this time, that there was certain shit he was supposed to do, holy crap, he needed a clue- man, she was pretty! Helluva lot prettier than Nol's first girlfriend (if he ever got one, at like, age 40). Jean-Viv opened his mouth and-

Yes! Holy shit, distraction! Before he spazzed out some more and ruined this whole 'boyfriend' persona shit. Pietro showed up, sorta came out of nowhere. "Dude! Where have you been!" He wanted to show off this new trick with frozen waffles and a tree, but Pietro hadn't been, well, anywhere so it was kinda hard to spin it in a non-lame way andokaymove! Jean-Viv pulled his hands away from Paige pretty abruptly, stuffing them in his pockets cuz, uh, this was Pietro, and he didn't want to look like a loser or something in front of him. He had to be smooth. "This is my girlfriend!" he blurted out instead, turning to face Paige for a sec and nodding in the older guy's direction, "Quicksilver. You know him, right? He's fucking awesome." Everybody knew him.

Annnd the bearer of shitastic news, apparently. It took him a few slow seconds to catch on, “Mystique’s PTA meeting ends in ten minutes.” "You fucking serious? Shit, yeah, Blondie, you gotta go." Getting a broken arm not of his own volition meant he'd have to look like a fucking loser with a sling at the dance! Nooo thanks. " If the Boss Lady finds you here, I'm screwed!" No snagging flowers from the funey home if he had a bum arm. He need to be in tip-top delinquent condition! Despite himself, and the freaking terror of Boss Lady's revenge, JV grinned at Pietro for mentioning the lunch-traying off the roof. Way to go, man, way to do your friend a solid! It sounded even cooler when Quicksilver said it. Yeah, he was awesome, Jean-Viv of the Badass Risk-taking Hobbies. Ten times better than his brother. But now he was pretty persistently tugging at Paige's wrist, pulling her off the porch with a fumbling, "You just- you don't want to run into her. Nooo way. I can, um, text you, we can...you know, later!" You know, when we're not in mortal danger and stuff... Shiiiiit, Boss Lady was going to be on the move soon. He didn't need to get busted again. He didn't need a face-full of coffee table!

[Raven Darkholme]

The 'meeting' she'd been required to attend lasted three-thirty to five-thirty, or somewhere around those times, which meant two hours of worthless conversation and debate involving what? Involving the Valentine's Day dance, the new restrictions to be put in place to avoid a repeat of Halloween, the chaperones to be present, the decorations and budget permitted to the student committees, and a series of other tedious, inane details that both parents and teachers concerned themselves with. Mystique had leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic and metal contraption that called itself a chair and said nothing, except to volunteer herself as one of the evening's 'babysitters' just to insure everything went smoothly as she intended it to. It was only to keep tabs on the Brotherhood, and if intimidation of the X-Men was also a possibility, all the better. But she thought the dance itself was a waste of time and resources - she would be glad when the boys graduated, no more need to pretend that these worthless social rituals mattered, that there should be any importance lended to them at all. She was training soldiers, not the next generation of backup dancers.

As the meeting adjourned a good few minutes early, Mystique did not waste time with the buzzing pleasantries, swiftly cutting her way through the human crowd with an evident disdain, or perhaps it was distraction. She readjusted her glasses, returned to the office to gather the rest of her things, and made a swift exit to her car in the parking lot. It wasn't so much that she had a pressing issue to attend to right now, it was simply that she couldn't stand to be around it. Debates on streamer colors and who would guard the punch from incidental 'spiking', the types of music to be permitted, a long list of bullshit that she had no personal interest in. She herself would have cancelled the dance just to be rid of the increased excitement and boisterous behavior in the halls, or the blindingly bright pink posters that stained her hallways. Unfortunately, that decision would not have endeared her to anyone, which in and of itself was not a problem (as she did not particularly like company or visitors especially not in the form of mentally impaired teenagers with control impulse issues), but it would draw unnecessary attention, particularly as she didn't have a reason other than disgust.

It should have been enough, and it was over which Mystique brooded, squeezing the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened, during the drive home. She punched the gas, disregarding suburban speedlimits, and as a result, pulled into the boarding house driveway earlier than she'd anticipated. Than they might have anticipated, which meant there was more a chance of discovering someone in the throes of some stupid act. Behavior to be corrected. She was pushing them to the point where she did not have to question what they did in her absence - it was simple obedience, and always an undercurrent of necessary fear. And surprise, surprise, what did her gaze snap to on the porch of her house? When she realized, Mystique was out of the car in seconds, slamming the door shut, short heels crunching in the snow as she strode towards them - mid-escape, perhaps? Scalpel and...well, who was that? A moment to place her; it was that little twit from Magneto's base, the blonde with Scrambler. Husk. X-Man. At her house. She felt her fingers within the leather gloves curl with irritation, no, anger, something stronger, "WHAT the hell are you doing!" It was a shout without a particular target, glaring at both of them, but then settling on the one-she-could-punish, Scalpel, "Giving the X-Men tours now?!" He - all of them - should have known already HOW she felt about having the X-Men ON HER PROPERTY. "Scalpel, inside. NOW! And you! Go home!" Clear enough for the two of them?

[Paige Guthrie]

"It's not like you know for sure, right? Telepaths are creepy! They can just skim your shit and you wouldn't even know."

”I think you’re just afraid of what you don’t know – besides what are you thinking about that’s so bad that you wouldn’t like Professor Xavier knowing about it? It must be pretty bad.” She smirked at him, thinking that he was overreacting of course. If Professor Xavier read her thoughts then he would see how dedicated and well organized she was (except when it came to her bedroom) and would naturally have to promote her to a position where she could be better utilized… drat! She almost wished Professor X did more peering into the minds of others for more arbitrary reasons.

"My English teacher- aka Douchebag Extreme - said I'd be in detention 'til graduation! That's four years of fun, Blondie, we gotta coordinate our next escape."

Was he offering her to spend the next four years with him in detention? That’s what it sounded like and for most other people it would have hardly sounded like a romantic prospect – but then if you looked at it like Paige did – he wants to spend the next four years of school with me! Ok, maybe it wasn’t that but at least he wanted to spend more time with her – that was nice (and it meant he wasn’t finding better things to do than detention – well, not much without her anyway).

"Um, uh...sure? Yeah, sure. So...that'd make...you my girlfriend."
"No chick flicks, right?"
"Nah, dead people don't even notice flowers, and you should have some cuz that's what...you're supposed to do. Um."

She returned his suspicious squint though not really knowing what it was that she was supposed to feel suspicious about – and why was he suspicious? It wasn’t like she was over here to spy on him, perhaps if she actually thought spying on the Brotherhood would give her points with Xavier she would but it wasn’t the type of thing he looked for – he preferred people being honest to one another, even when it came to the Brotherhood. Needless to say when he finally did answer she felt her heart rate speed up – yes he said yes. Ha! Finally something she had before Sam did! - “Chick flicks?” Oh. They’d be watching movies together – she hadn’t thought of that. She wasn’t going to tell him that she actually liked “chick flicks” ”I mean, I guess we could watch documentaries or maybe science fiction but it has be believable like 1984 instead of Star Trek.” Not that she didn’t believe in aliens, but the whole scenario didn’t seem very plausible and just when she was thinking this… did he just flip off the house down the road? Oh. Flowers. Well that was… sweet? ”I guess that’s ok.” Really she liked when he got her more imaginative things, like the spider, ”I mean if they were interesting flowers…” Like a cactus or a venus flytrap or something.

"What sorta experiments?"
"Are you blowing shit up without me?"
"Ah, dunno, never cut somebody's lungs up or nothing. Not that deep...but I could, I mean, I just- I just can't yet,"
"Consistency? Uh, like...what? You have to dumb it down, Blondie. You want to test stuff?"

Blowing stuff up? She was just talking about using their powers – which it seemed that he caught up with fast. She was sure he was right about being able to cut that deep – lungs were somewhat flimsy material – strong but not when it came to a butcher’s knife or anything like that (obviously). ”I mean if I can make my skin different material and densities – such as the various kinds of wood that are out there and different types of metals then we can see what you can’t cut through and work on that… and on the plus side it would test the resilience of my transformed skin as well.” Grinning at him she tried not to think of the downside – just how was she supposed to get her husking working for such an experiment?

"Ye-ah?"
"I mean, yeah. Forgot my jacket… Ummm."
"I- yeah, I think- we do it all the time, now?"

His voice was squeaking but she was still focused on thinking about how his powers worked, until she realized how cold he must be. ”It’s ok if you forgot your jacket, you don’t need to be embarrassed, sometimes I’ve been too busy thinking about something else that I forget things too. I almost forgot my brother and I’s weekly phone call to my ma this week.” She shifted the weight from one foot to the other, yeah, this was awkward but if there was anyone she wanted to be awkward around it was him. Do it all the time? Experiment? That’s what they were talking about and what she’d meant so it reasonably had to be that. ”I don’t know about all the time, just if we were bored of things to do and wanted to see how it worked…” raising her eyes to his shyly until whoosh! and then there was a white haired guy standing there-

"Dude! Where have you been!"
"This is my girlfriend! Quicksilver. You know him, right? He's fucking awesome."
“Mystique’s PTA meeting ends in ten minutes.”
“You ‘may’ want to get your lost X-Flock sheep out of here. The alternative could be getting a broken arm, but you probably want to do that yourself the next time you try to lunch-tray off the roof.”

-and another member of the Brotherhood. She beamed when Jean-Viv referred to her as his girlfriend. ”Yeah, I’ve heard of him.” Not that the girls at the X-mansion were as abuzz about Quicksilver as he probably fancied them to be – but Paige had heard the name in passing and she’d done enough (though limited) research to know that he had super speed and he was there when Jean-Viv visited the X-mansion that time… actually that was Il Sung – so really she didn’t know so much about him. She’d have to fix that. He spoke without really regarding her personally, but it was alright it seemed like he was afraid of Miss Darkholme as well, even if he was acting so cool about it all. Really, these boys were silly – Principal Darkholme was nothing to be afraid of – she was hardly going to hurt one of her own students! Principals just didn’t do those things in any county! Excepting those ones that get caught and then hauled off to jail and – well, how often does that happen?

"You fucking serious? Shit, yeah, Blondie, you gotta go. If the Boss Lady finds you here, I'm screwed!"
"You just- you don't want to run into her. Nooo way. I can, um, text you, we can...you know, later!"

But then Jean-Viv seemed to think it was a definite possibility… maybe he doesn’t realize how sensationalized the news reports are. He was pulling at her wrist and she let him do it jumping off the last step of the porch. ”You know? You mean experiment? – if you swap with Noel we can anyti-“

"WHAT the hell are you doing!"
"Giving the X-Men tours now?!"
"Scalpel, inside. NOW! And you! Go home!"

Too late. A very unhappy Principal Darkholme had already arrived. She appeared a slight amount more threatening now but she still wasn’t the type to go to jail – unless there were different laws for mutants. Maybe they couldn’t incarcerate mutants and so Miss Darkholme thought she could do what she liked. If that was the case there would need to be a whole law system written up for mutants and the faster they could do it, the faster people like Miss Darkholme were dealt with effectively (and weren’t a law unto themselves). Paige bristled visibly as she blamed Jean-Viv. It wasn’t his fault, she was the one who’d came over. Paige took a step forward as face to face with the principal as she could get without her behind a desk.

”My name is Paige Guthrie and I wouldn’t have to be here if you spent a little more time catering to your students’ needs. My history teacher has a problem with grading fairly – I wonder what type of procedures you go through when you are hiring – do you actually sit in their classes for a week and check that they know what they’re talking about and what it says on their resume is true? I’m sorry to have to come to your house about this but these boys were just keeping me company until you arrived – they wouldn’t have had to if you made yourself available in your office at school more often.” Paige backed up her words with a disapproving frown. ”I know you have a big school to run, much bigger than the ones I went to before, but you could still try to provide guidance to the individual – especially when one of the staff members doesn’t know how to do things the good old fashioned way where if a student deserves an A plus, they get an A plus – simple as that.” Crossing her arms over her chest she could almost hear Jean-Viv going crazy at her for not backing away. ”Anyway, if you don’t find a way to look after your students needs, particularly the ones that want to get to university, then I’ll have to have a talk with Professor Xavier about it and his school won’t have dealings with your school anymore – it’s as simple as that.” Actually it wasn’t as simple as that and Paige didn’t know exactly what she was talking about, just what she could gather from being around her mom and her school business, regardless she just kept talking. ”I’ll come to your office tomorrow morning before class and you should invite my history teacher as well so we can all sit down and talk about this.” With a deep breath Paige started to walk slowly away from the house – if Miss Darkholme wanted to go about this the wrong way then Paige would ensure there was a mutant legal system to deal with her somewhere and somehow. There had to be justice for all – even mutants.

This post has been edited by Paige Guthrie on Oct 19 2009, 11:59 AM

[Raven Darkholme]

Quicksilver had made himself scarce the moment he recognized Mystique's car, leaving Leclair and the X-brat to fend for themselves. Unlike his less-informed counterpart, Scalpel appropriately panicked, mouth stupidly slack, eyes wide, and with a flinch at her tone, he blurted out - now pushing more insistently at Husk, "Uuuh, nope, no, nooo tours, I was just- uh, homework! Shecamoverforhomework, not to see me, nope, not eve- I dun even know her name, she's uh, an X-Geek? Whoa, I- yeah, Boss Lady, I didn't even- cuz she thought I was my brother and I was, uh, um, I was- cleaning the porch cuz Avalanche forgo-" Her expression grew distinctly more displeased, darkening, and Scalpel hastily shoved his hands in his pockets to dig himself further into an early grave, "Um, I think Avalanche, uh, he broke t-the toaster today a-"

Mystique impatiently cut him off with a violent gesture, "Did I ask about the toaster, you moron?" The dangerously calm condescension slid between her teeth and Scalpel swallowed and shook his head. Obviously he was not as suave as Quicksilver in changing the subject to refocus wrath on someone else (no doubt a weakness due to his unfamiliarity with the idea of 'giving up the spotlight', negative attention or not). Such a stupid boy. She had hoped to cure him of that gag reflex, spewing senseless bullshit everywhere - no success thusfar. Mystique tore her attention from the dumbass hastily moving back away from Husk, disassociating himself wisely - you did not see him standing between a bullet and an X-Man, which was disturbing in and of itself that this one showed more sense than Avalanche; she had been so certain in her initial approach of the Leclair twins that she had received the mentally retarded one. No, it turned out his IQ was slightly more than that of a bucket. She centered her gaze, now a sharp, angry yellow on the thirteen-year-old who was, inf act, speaking to her, introducing herself as if-

"I know who you are," Mystique snapped, interrupting her halfway through her surname, but the big-mouthed Husk just...kept...talking, and- "Shhhhh! Psst, pssssst! That...is...the...Boss...Lady......" Scalpel was hissing between his teeth with spittle flicking every which direction in his attempts to keep a big smile on his face for Mystique whilst hissing 'fuck' and 'dead' every other word. Both females ignored him - as she was sure would be the case for most of his life - and the shapeshifter cut the space between them in half within seconds, found herself towering over the mutant in time to see the disapproving frown and the 'suggestion' that she spend more time in her...office? What in the hell was Xavier teaching these- she was a goddamned mutant terrorist, not Principal-of-the-Year! SHE DIDN'T EVEN LIKE KIDS! A-plus? A-plus? Mystique was more likely to offer A-plus-a-body-bag, which was the sentiment Scalpel shared in his now not-even-trying-to-appear-subtle blurt, "Doyouknowshe'sgotfiftythousandfuckingguns?!" And now he was only compounding her aggravation (which she would take out on him inasmuch as it was possible to do without causing additional brain damage).

Mystique's temples throbbed with a restrained murderous impulse. "-then I’ll have to have a talk with Professor Xavier about it and his school won’t have dealings with your school anymore..." "Promising things you cannot keep, Ms. Guthrie?" she boomed over the younger voice, her tone too cold to be pleasant, but with none of the visceral imagery and swearing that would blister Scalpel's ears within fifteen minutes- how in the hell did Magneto choose- why?! Why would any- and he critiqued her Brotherhood? Certainly, they weren't the most intelligent of boys, but she was never- the talking! "Your mother may wash out your mouth with soap, but I will cut out your tongue!" "Paige!" "Inside, Scalpel! Did I stutter?" She recalled with an irritated sneer that he had yet to obey her previous command, so preoccupied was she with the babbling girl in front of her. Following his initial hesitation, much like a dog cocked its head when it did not understand a command, she shouted, he flinched, and ran into the doorframe. Fucking idiot was too busy shooting split-second glances over his shoulder at Husk that he did not see the boarding house paneling in front of his face. "Shit! My fuckin'- fuck! This door's shrunk! Fuckin' midgets couldn't fi-" "SCALPEL!" "I'm gone! I'm gone- sooo gone!"

Husk, having said her nonsensical piece, too stepped away, rambling something stupid about early morning meetings (she would be there with herself, which was probably best for her health), and Mystique - further incensed by the fact that Husk had the nerve to leave without having been dismissed (none of her Brotherhood would have DARED to do that) - called after her, "DON'T COME HERE AGAIN, MISS GUTHRIE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" Charles Xavier really should have put shock collars on his fucking students. That said, Mystique did not wait for the response, storming up the boarding house steps and inside a moment later. If Husk returned, God help her, Mystique would peel that girl apart from skin to bark to bone.