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| Comfort Food; Terry | |
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| Topic Started: May 10 2010, 04:04 AM (562 Views) | |
| Specter | May 10 2010, 04:04 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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Time of day: 9pm Place in the time-line: May 1st 2010 To say that Dallas Gibson had been feeling unsettled since coming to the Xavier Institute would be an understatement. Sure, he'd expected to feel a little thrown and out of place at first but he'd assumed that feeling would fade away over time, that he'd get used to his new environment and everything would be fine and dandy. Instead, the opposite had happened. Maybe he should have guessed that life in a building filled with mutants would be weird and crazy and disturbing and shocking and brain-breaking, but it honestly hadn't occurred to him. He'd blindly counted on being safe and at ease. That was, he realised now, a touch naive. That being said, he didn't regret transferring to this school, not really. Life in Eugene had become impossible. Despite all the nuttiness, he was actually better off here. It was just difficult to remember that when people who were probably from an alternate dimension were wandering around the halls, thrust here against their will while their counterparts were sent... somewhere else. Probably. Mrs. Grey-Summers hadn't gone into detail when she explained the situation to him but, as far as he could tell, nobody knew where Sooraya and the others had gone. Maybe to that other dimension, maybe somewhere else. Maybe they were all just insane or being mind controlled, or maybe these people really were from another world and the ones who belonged here had been erased entirely. He'd gone over and over all the different sinister possibilities his brain could come up with and it was doing him no good at all, especially since he knew there was no reason to assume he would be immune to this involuntary apparent dimension swapping. He was confused and he was frightened. Not that anybody looking at him now would know that. Standing at the counter in the kitchen, Dallas was humming a cheery ditty to himself which displayed no musical skill but which did, he hoped, suggest to the world that everything in his garden was rosy. He might have been scared to death but the last thing he wanted was for anyone else to know that. The only clue to Dallas's true emotional state was his shadow. Stretched all the way to the other side of the room, it remained clamped to the wall, where it marched back and forth, back and forth, its arms folded, shoulders hunched, head down. Though it often seemed otherwise, the shadow wasn't alive at all, it was simply a manifestation formed from Dallas's own psyche, an extension of him. Right now, it was a restless embodiment of all the anxiety he was trying so hard to hide. Dallas ignored his pacing shadow though, focusing instead on the task at hand. Namely, cooking. This was therapy for him. Cookery had always been his passion, since long before the mutant thing derailed the course of his life. Even now, he harboured dreams of becoming a world-renowned chef with celebrated restaurants throughout the land. His skill wasn't quite on a par with his ambitions yet but he was still a darn good cook, he liked to think. More importantly, it took his mind off things and made him feel better. Right now, that was more than welcome. Tonight, he'd concocted two offerings, a pizza and a cake. Neither were the most adventurous dishes he could have attempted but he didn't care, he'd had fun. Waiting until the dinnertime rush had passed, he'd buried himself away in the kitchen to finish off the food he'd prepared earlier in the day and now he was practically done. The cake was ready to be eaten and the pizza was cooked. All that remained was to slice up a couple of strips of prosciutto and add that to the toppings, largely for texture. His hum morphed into a whistle as he took hold of a knife and started rapidly chopping his way through the ham, in that crazy fast way that would certainly result in severed fingers one day. Somehow, he'd managed to put this meal together without anyone interrupting him and he was a little sad about that. He liked to cook for other people, not himself. Hopefully someone would show up soon enough and then they could share in his culinary creations with him. That would be lovely for them. |
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| Siryn | May 10 2010, 11:19 PM Post #2 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Terry had since resigned (mostly) to the fact that she was shut up in this school for the foreseeable future. Butting your head against a concrete wall only ever gave a person a right headache and holy mother, these people had concrete walls in abundance. So, she was getting used to the way of things, sort of. Or at least she pretended she was while continually plotting a way out of there, even if it would take her months, oh she was getting back out. At least they hadn’t left the null cuff on her, the redhead was thankful for that small mercy, even if she did feel like she was living in a nursery school sometimes. Having spent the day making a vague attempt at homework, as everyone in this place seemed to be so keen on education, plus Tom had always wanted her to get some good schooling in, Terry was now bored and feeling a little allergic to the Disney fest going on in the girls lounge. All those twenty somethings careering around high school cafeterias had to all be on crack or something; whatever it was they were on, Terry damn well wanted some. Might make things here easier. Considering tracking down Julian for some trouble making, Terry went by the kitchen first, because one, trouble was better on a full stomach and two, he might be there anyway. Julian wasn’t, but there was a bloody good smell coming from the room anyway as she stepped in, tugging the band of her jeans as it slipped a bit, reminding her that she needed to wear a belt more often, or to eat more cake. Just like that nice fat cake on the table… Eying it, she glanced up at the occupant of the kitchen with sea-green eyes. “Did you make that?” she asked curiously, edging around the back of a chair to get to the fridge, getting a can of fizzy pop out, snapping the ring pull with a hiss and a fizz. Taking a sip, she set it down on the table. Dallas was alright, a different sort of friend to Julian but that wasn’t such a bad thing; she just couldn’t imagine him wanting to find out a cache of alcohol with her so much, like Julian would. The smell of cake also mingled with pizza and the smells was making her stomach rumble and her mind deducted that if she did stay here, she might not have to worry so much about her belt, as her jeans would stay up courtesy of her growing arse. Taking a perch on a counter top, Terry pulled her green shirt down from where it had wrinkled up and kicked her sock covered heel against the cupboard door softly. “This place kills me sometimes…” she commented, not really to him as such, but getting the words out to someone who didn’t seem egotistical just felt so much better. “Right, they’re all up in the girls lounge, crowin’ along ter some shite pop music film…Least that’s what I think they’re doin’ anyway…” she shrugged and took another swig of pop. “Any of that pizza goin’ spare?” she asked, a slightly devious look on her face, while she sincerely hoped he said yes, as she’d not eaten a proper dinner and the smell was bloody good from where she was sitting. |
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| Specter | May 11 2010, 06:44 AM Post #3 |
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When the sound of socked feet padding down the hallway reached Dallas's ears, his lips quirked into a smile. He'd been starting to think that nobody would show up and he'd be left to eat it all himself. Which he wouldn't have done, of course. The idea was an attractive one but his waistline wouldn't have thanked him for it. Plus, he never really cooked for himself. The whole point, as far as he was concerned, was to bring a little pleasure to someone else in the form of good food. If nobody appeared in the kitchen, he'd have probably had a couple of slices of pizza and left the rest on the table with a note commanding readers to help themselves. And he probably would've added a little smiley face too because he was lame. It seemed that wasn't to be the fate of his lovingly prepared foodstuffs, however. Someone was coming! He had the presence of mind to pause his speedy chopping as he glanced up at the door, his smile widening when he saw Terry make her way in. For one reason or another, he hadn't done a great job of getting to know a lot of his fellow students, which really wasn't like him. Adjusting to this place had thrown him off his game, he supposed. Terry was someone he had chatted to before though, so he was glad to see her. She was cool. She seemed to have fire in her belly and he always enjoyed that in a person. And she had a badass accent. "Hey," he offered in greeting as he looked back down at the prosciutto, deciding he'd sliced and diced enough. When Terry asked if he'd made the pizza and cake, his lips parted in a grin. "Certainly did. This is what happens when I've got too much time on my hands." While Terry helped herself to a drink from the fridge, Dallas busied himself with the finishing touches on the pizza, sprinkling the shredded ham on top in what he hoped would be a visually pleasing pattern. Presentation was half the battle in creating a good dining experience. He'd read that somewhere so it must be true. Finally, he added a little black pepper and the pizza was ready to serve. Ta-dah! He laughed and wrinkled his nose at the very thought of the movie playing out in the girls lounge. "Is it one of those Disney things? They should ban that, it'll rot their brains." As he talked, he fiddled around with the various utensils arranged on the counter, looking for his special pizza cutter. It was his own, brought all the way to the mansion from Oregon, along with a whole set of other kitchen crap. Apparently he thought a place this enormous wouldn't have knives and forks or something. "Man, remember when Disney used to make those awesome cartoons? Those were the good old days. They need to go back to that, these high school movies freak me out." Locating his precious pizza cutter, Dallas was about to attempt to convince Terry that she really wanted to eat his food when she made the whole thing easier by asking for some. His smile brightened. "Yeah, there's plenty. Grab a seat. Do you want anything to go with it? I can throw together a side salad or something, if you want?" He didn't really see Terry as a side salad kinda girl but it was polite to offer. Grabbing a couple of plates, Dallas loaded them with still steaming pizza slices, offering one to the lady. "Hope you like it." His smile grew a little more hesitant. "So, uh, how are you settling in here? You getting used to this place yet? I'm not sure I am," he added with a quiet laugh. He and Terry joined the school in the same week. He figured if anybody might relate to how he was feeling, it'd be her. |
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| Siryn | May 11 2010, 10:20 PM Post #4 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Terry raised a red eyebrow slightly as he explained the food as a case of having too much time on his hands. “Each to their own I ‘spose. Never really learnt to cook aside from what they taught in school, never needed to,” she commented, realising that she had never actually had the desire to learn to cook properly either, never really needing to. Idly, she watched him add pepper and ham to the top of the pizza, wondering if she’d ever be so inclined and she just couldn’t see it. “Yeah, Disney,” she nodded, lifting her can to her lips, rolling her eyes in a disapproving way, watching as he bustled around the kitchen, feeling the best thing was to stay out of his way as he obviously knew what he was doing more than she did. “I remember…all the cute singin’ animals and cutlery…didn’t go down with the nuns too well. Guess it was allowin’ us to have too much fun or somethin’. They were only happy when we weren’t or stranglin’ us with a rosary.” School had been mildly suffocating for her at times, but that was possibly just because of who had brought her up, her ‘fathers’ personality had rubbed off on her perhaps a little too well and had turned her into a stubborn thing who didn’t best like doing as she was told. Shifting off the counter top as he dished up the food, Terry decided that she remembered her manners and took a seat at the table and took hold of the plate, nibbling a bit of ham before taking a bite out of one of the slices that had been loaded on to her plate. “This’ll do,” she licked a splodge of stray cheese off of her thumb. “Cheers.” For a few minutes the redhead was silent as she ate her first slice of pizza, chewing slowly on the crust before breaking the fairly comfortable silence. They’d been at the school roughly the same amount of time, or so she guessed as she had not initially been too sociable when she had been dragged to the gates, pretty much literally. “Don’t feel like I am settlin’, to be honest. Never chose to come here y’see, it’s no secret…Getting’ used to so many mutants is kind of weird. It sorta runs in me family, so it’s not a shock, just the amount of people…Plus half of them seem to be flamin’ insane, like there’s somethin’ in the water around here or maybe it’s always like this, but I’d hate to think it was, as we’ve got no chance in that case!” Dropping the unwanted remainder of her crust on to the side of her plate, Terry moved on to the next slice. “Schoolwork is different here to home. Food’s a bit different – this is good though,” she added quickly, without her characteristic stubbornness showing through in her voice. While she really wasn’t settling down that amazingly, she was getting used to the place and that meant she needed friends if her stay was going to be bearable. “So how about you? Like it? Or just droppin’ anchor like me?” |
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| Specter | May 12 2010, 05:54 AM Post #5 |
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Dallas tried to picture Terry surrounded by nuns but his mind's eye wouldn't play ball. It seemed incongruous. He didn't know Terry that well but still, she didn't strike him as the kind of girl who'd fit in such a wrapped-up, rigid world. She had too much spirit, too much individuality. He was probably projecting his own prejudices on the idea though. Organised religion wasn't something he had a lot of time for. He tried to be open-minded about everything, his social activist grandfather wouldn't have tolerated a narrow-minded grandson, but he struggled with religion. It had been a source of too much trouble over the centuries, as far as he could see, too much discrimination. It bothered him instictively and Terry's tale of anti-Disney nuns did nothing to change that. As she took her first bite of the pizza, Dallas deliberately averted his gaze, looking down at his own plate of food and tearing off a chunk of the crust to pop into his mouth. He was quite serious about wanting to be a chef professionally someday so reactions to his food were important to him but he didn't want to creep Terry out by staring at her in anticipation. And if she didn't like it, he definitely didn't want to witness a wrinkled nose or a look of disgust or, horrors, a gag. He needn't have feared though. She seemed to find it acceptable, so Dallas breathed a sigh of relief, a broad smile brightening his features. "Cool." That was all he said but his grin refused to leave his lips. By liking his pizza, Terry had made his whole week. He was easily pleased, clearly. It was ridiculous, really, because pizza wasn't a dish which required a great deal of skill to put together, he'd managed far more complicated recipes in the past so he shouldn't have been so delighted about this one. He'd spent so much time brooding and fretting over the last few days, though, that a tiny triumph like this one felt especially gratifying. As Terry answered his question, Dallas got up from his seat and took a few steps over to the fridge, budging the door open with the base of his palm in an attempt to avoid getting his greasy paws all over it. He kept his gaze turned in Terry's direction though, so that she'd know he was listening to her. It was interesting to hear her confirm that she wasn't at the school by choice. He'd heard rumours about that but he'd disregarded them. Over time, it was becoming increasingly clear to him that whenever he heard a rumour which seemed a little nutty, like students being placed here against their will or residents suddenly manifesting entirely different personalities, he should probably believe it. Which, he supposed, might mean Terry really was Mr. Cassidy's daughter. He'd heard that too. Grabbing a can of his favourite tipple, Dr Pepper, he smiled a little ruefully at her words. "Yeah, there's a whole lot of crazy going around," he mumbled. Slipping back into his chair, he popped back the ring-pull and took a gulp which fizzled on his tongue as he pondered how honestly to answer Terry's question. He didn't really like people knowing about it when he was unhappy. Sharing his problems with his shadow and nobody else as he usually did felt secure, not exposing. Talking to a real live person would be different. But it was Dallas who'd brought the subject up. It wouldn't be fair to expect her to answer it and then brush her off. "Yeah, I like it. Kinda. I mean, most people here seem cool and... it's..." He trailed off for a moment, fingering the edge of his pizza slice as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I wanted to come here. I mean, it was my choice. I thought it'd be for the best and I'd be... I don't know... safe here, I guess. And I thought it'd be cool. Fun. But I'm finding it kinda hard to adjust, you know? Nothing's really the way I expected it to be. I don't feel so safe here after all." He offered a smile and a shrug of the shoulders in a flimsy attempt to make his words somehow more light-hearted. He felt he'd made himself seem vulnerable or emotional and that was just... lame. A little false bravado was called for he felt. "I mean, I'll get used to the place. We both will, I'm sure we will. We'll be as crazy as the rest of them before we know it. ...Right?" Dallas had intended his words to seem casual and confident but that last 'right?' had betrayed him by sounding weak. To stop himself saying anything else loser-ish, he stuffed some more pizza into his mouth. |
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| Siryn | May 13 2010, 12:07 AM Post #6 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Chewing on the pizza, she realised how hungry she was and was very glad that she had chosen to go down to the kitchen at that point in time. It was all well and good prowling the corridors or skulking away in the dorm, but it didn’t fill her belly. It also didn’t stop her feet from itching either, try as she might. While the heavy sense of inevitability that she wasn’t getting out any time soon was hanging on her every inch, she still looked for any opportune moment to bolt out the door. The main issue was where she’d go, given the chance. SHIELD would no doubt go after her if they heard she had run off, the school would probably try to find her…Terry’s stomach sank a little as she chewed on the pizza, forcing her mouthful down with some pop as her mood momentarily dipped. Her mouth quirked into a slight smile as she saw the lad was pleased that she liked the pizza, or maybe that she hadn’t succumbed to food poisoning or anything of the sort, but the good mood made it a bit easier to perk back up. “You cook a lot then?” she asked curiously; there was a big kitchen for the masses to be fed from, so she didn’t always see students cooking, though someone seemed to make muffins a lot, good ones too, but it wasn’t like anyone really needed to cook to survive so she guessed he enjoyed it. Ah well, if he was going to cook it, she’d eat it. Despite her frame, Theresa was not afraid of food, although she preferred a more liquid diet when she could get it. “I guess I’d like it better if I’d picked to come here, had a bit of choice in the matter, but I didn’t, guess that’s just me winning personality,” the redheaded girl smirked a bit. “Also if less people were ravin’ mad, that might help a bit. I dunno what you’d expect from a place like this though, I didn’t really expect much but guess that was the whole not wantin’ to come.” The pizza was good, so she carried on eating, dropping scraps of crust that she hadn’t the stomach for but to show willing, Terry got up from the table and looked around, pulling a bottle of ketchup out of the cupboard, adding a splodge to the end of her plate to use as a dip. “No offence, just never liked crusts of anything’. Never eat them on sandwiches either,” she explained, hoping she wasn’t insulting the chef too bad, seeing as she wanted a bit of that cake and didn’t mind his company and dunked a crust into the sauce, drop falling on to her shirt. “Shite…” dabbing at it with a finger, she huffed slightly, scowling at the stain she now had. “I can definitely see myself goin’ crazy…You’re quite right there. Is it bad I’m stoppin’ carin’ about it?” |
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| Specter | May 13 2010, 03:04 AM Post #7 |
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A cheerful grin reappeared on Dallas's lips. He was feeling down but not so down that an opportunity to talk about cooking couldn't lift his spirits, even if only temporarily. Dwelling on his worries was something he couldn't seem to avoid when he was alone, but it seemed a lot easier to let go of that when he was in company. He tended to function a lot better when there was someone else around. Lucky for him, he was never entirely on his own because his shadow was always skulking around in the background somewhere, providing someone to talk to or 'think' to. It wasn't the same as hanging out with a real live person though. Not quite. "Yeah, I love to cook. It was just me and my Grandpa when I was growing up and his limit was, like... toast. So I had to learn how to do some basic stuff pretty early. But I'm so glad about that because I totally fell in love with it. I'd live in this kitchen if I could," he laughed, shaking his head at himself as he absently pushed a tiny pile of crumbs around the edge of his plate. "That's what I wanna do when I'm done with school, go off and be a chef in some awesome little restaurant somewhere. I mean, that's always been the plan, at least. I don't know if the mutant thing's gonna get in the way of that now but..." He paused but shrugged, not too concerned. He might have been an angsty little mutant recently but he was, at his heart, an optimist. "Well, we'll see what happens. I'm not giving up on it." He grabbed the opportunity to eat some more of his pizza as Terry talked about her expectations about the school, figuring he'd make this his last slice if he wanted to save some room for the cake too. "Yeah..." He paused so he could finish his mouthful. That might make his words a little less unintelligible. "Yeah, I guess I was expecting everybody to just be normal. Just... regular folks. But they're... well, a lot of them really aren't, are they?" Leaning back in his chair, feeling plump, he dropped the last of his pizza slice back onto his plate so that he could stretch his arms out, while Terry located the ketchup. Her assurances that the food was fine brought a smile to his lips and he waved a hand a little. "It's all good. I'm not a big fan of crusts either, honestly." He'd eaten most of his but that was greed so it didn't count. He was already standing to grab a roll of paper towels from the counter when Terry had an unfortunate ketchup incident, so he ripped off a few extra sheets and passed them across the table to her before screwing up some more to wipe his greasy hands with. "Nah, it's not a bad thing," he said in response to Terry's question. "In fact, I should probably take a leaf out of your book. I'm worrying too much about stuff lately. It's probably better to just relax. See how things go." Really, Dallas was just talking some sense into himself and it was about time. In the back of his head, he could feel his shadow's irritation and restlessness, its resentment at the very idea of just chilling out and not worrying about this stuff, but Dallas tried his best to ignore it. He just wasn't going to be able to handle life at this school if he didn't learn to cope. After taking a sip of his drink, pleased to find it had lost the initial biting fizz of a freshly opened can, he returned his gaze to Terry. "So... what's the story about you coming here? You said it wasn't your choice? I don't really know what the deal was with that." He'd heard the odd rumour about it but he didn't put much stock in whispered tales. He'd rather hear it from the horse's mouth. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking. Not trying to pry into your personal business or anything." |
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| Siryn | May 14 2010, 06:28 PM Post #8 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Shredding the pizza crust into bites, Terry listened, feeling strangely uncomfortable as he told her about just having his Grandfather growing up. In a way she could relate, as her upbringing had not exactly been conventional, but that was hardly something to launch into, not yet anyway and Lord knew, there had to be a million and one stories flying around the school by now about her family affairs. Honestly, she had a morbid wish to hear them, just for the craic on it, see what exactly people had been saying, just in case there were any versions that required clearing up with a fist to the face. “I ain’t gotta clue what I wanna do when I, if I leave here. Never really knew before either, was just gonna take life as it came and try not to be screwed up or in prison. Simple, really,” she said a little smugly. “I went ter boarding school when I was twelve and afore that, never really needed ter cook. Just never needed the skill,” Terry excused herself, wondering why she needed to as the lad didn’t seem bothered by her admission of culinary ignorance. Her smirk turned into a brief laugh as he admitted expecting people to be normal at the school. It wasn’t something Terry had exactly been expecting, but she had thought it might be more like school had been back home, only with powers. “I think we may be two of the sanest people here right now, though we probably will go loopers like the rest of ‘em in the end. I think some of the people here were mad in the first place, though…” she commented, nibbling around the edge of her last slice, even though she was getting quite full now, thanking him as he passed the towels over to her. Terry was just going to shrug it off and change the top, leaving it to the washing machine to deal with. Dallas then brought the question up and her dabbing at the stain slowed a little, Terry raising her eyes from inspecting her front to look him in the face, her expression blank for a moment as the normally mouthy girl looked for the right words. “Well…Not that I mind you askin’, not really, it happened so I can’t go changin’ it. It’s just…Complicated I guess, I can’t go tellin’ everythin’ about what happened, cause I don’t want ter drop someone in it,” pausing to pick at the scraps left on her plate and to take a drink from her can, Terry tossed her fiery red hair over her shoulder and cleared her throat. “So, this person. I was helpin’ them, but they’re not what the law’d call a good person – never did much bad by me, well relatively speaking – and I was kind of committin’ a few crimes here and there but I got caught in the act of publicly usin’ me powers for wrongdoin’s and SHEILD arrested me.” Waiting for that part of her sorry to tale to sink in, she watched him, to see how he was taking it so far before she carried on with the next part. “Anyway, I got null cuffed and put in this holding room and I just was thinkin’ shite…this is it, y’know? Thought they were goin’ ter leave me there ter rot or worse, but they brought me here instead. They took the null cuff off after they figured I weren’t gonna try and kill anyone, but I’m not allowed to leave the grounds, at least not without a chaperone on the level of Logan anyway…” Draining the can, she set it down with a hollow clatter on the table top. “That’s about it really. Unless you want the full story of me life, or I missed out anythin’ interestin’ you may have heard so far…” Terry added as a little challenge and raised an eyebrow. “Good pizza, by the by.” |
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| Specter | May 15 2010, 12:16 PM Post #9 |
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Unregistered
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Dallas laughed as Terry referred to them as the sanest ones but underneath his smile was a certain amount of discomfort because of the truth in her statement. Not just because some of the people here had arrived at the school with a bucket load of their own issues and might not fall under any category labelled 'normal' but also because of those who'd had their normalcy ripped away from them. As he understood it, Sooraya Qadir had been a quiet, regular girl before... before she wasn't anymore. Then there was what happened at the wedding. And Billy Kaplan. And Mrs. Grey-Summers's husband. And who knew who else? The lack of sanity was spreading. For all he knew, any second now Terry could drop her pizza and become a militaristic psychopath or a hardened mutant criminal or a lost and frightened kid. And so could he. He had no clue what the alternate version of him might be like and he had no desire to find out. What if he was dangerous? What if he 'switched' and his counterpart hurt somebody? How would he live with that? And what would he do if Terry changed before his eyes, right now, in five minutes, tomorrow, next month? Would there be any regular people left in a month? These were the sorts of questions which had been plaguing his mind recently, the kind of disquiet which gave him nightmares and kept him from fully relaxing around anyone. Talking to Terry helped though. He was pretty comfortable with her so, for the most part, he was able to push any fretful angsting to the edge of his mind. That only made his shadow even more unsettled though. From the corner of his eye, Dallas could see it still pacing back and forth on the wall, stopping now and then to tug its silhouetted hands through the outline of its hair. Dallas would have to merge with it later. Just for a minute or two. That should bolster them both, give them a little more strength, even if only temporarily. For now, he turned a smile back to Terry, shrugging his shoulders. "See, with all the insanity, maybe we won't have to worry about what we're gonna do after school. We'll be too busy running around in X-Men uniforms or something." He acted like the very idea was dumb and undesirable but that wasn't how he really felt. He didn't want Terry to think he was some kid with delusional dreams or, worse, that he was uncoolly fanboying over the teachers, but the truth was he'd been daydreaming about himself wearing an X ever since he arrived here and held out hope that he'd be selected for the Junior squad someday. Dallas Gibson: Cake Baking X-Man. It'd be glorious. Absently picking at an abandoned chunk of pizza crust on his plate, he listened as Terry related her story, aware of the possibility that he might have crossed a line just by asking about it and readying himself to swiftly change the subject if she seemed uncomfortable. As it turned out, she seemed mostly okay with answering his query, as far as he could tell, so he sat quietly and took in what she was saying. "SHIELD? Shit. That's heavy." He wasn't judging her for any of it. He'd think the best of Terry just as he would with anyone else, especially a friend, so he worked on the assumption that the badness she was involved with was petty, inconsequential stuff. And if it wasn't then... well, it was in the past and it was none of his business. As long as she hadn't, like, killed anyone and that thought didn't even occur to him. His features displayed no disapproval or caution, just concern as she continued her tale. "Man. I don't know what I'd do if I ever got null cuffed. I'd lose it." Dallas couldn't help casting a glance in the direction of his shadow, almost as if he momentarily needed the reassurance that it was still there. He hesitated when she asked him if there was anything else he wanted to know, trying to weigh up whether or not he should ask if she really was connected to Mr. Cassidy in some way but he couldn't think of a way to bring it up that didn't seem intrusive and sensed it might be a subject best left alone, so he just smiled and shook his head. "Nah. Just... I mean, are you okay? Now, I mean? That's a lot of crap to go through." He wasn't sure what he was asking specifically. Really, he just wanted to know that Terry wasn't being wracked by emotional trauma. He liked her, the thought of her being in silent distress bothered him a lot. He smiled as she praised the pizza, quietly thrilled. "Thanks. Can I interest you in some cake, made by my own fair hands? It's chocolate," he added, with an eyebrow waggle. |
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| Siryn | May 15 2010, 11:22 PM Post #10 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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As she sat there talking to him, Terry tried to not stare at the shadow that was pacing round, unless she was seeing things and really, she doubted that. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing she’d seen, including her cousin, the walking bloody tree. Regardless, it was sort of distracting in that awkward way of she wasn’t sure if she’d mind him staring at it a little. It was easier to take than all the people going crazy and suddenly being someone else. In a way, the redhead liked the chaos, it made it easier for her to hide out, to slip under the radar and not be so noticeable while she concocted a plan to get out of there, or at least she was trying to anyway. Just to get out and to breathe, that’d be something. Terry nearly choked on her pizza as Dallas conjoured up the image of them running around in those hellish uniforms that most people seemed to aspire to. It wasn’t bad, she guessed, it wasn’t bad if you were brought up to believe in fairies and Santa and that the world was all nice…Things weren’t always all nice. Snorting, the Irish girl shook her head. “Aye…I can see that. The day I get put in one of them uniforms is the day that everyone’ll have gone fuckin’ insane in this place!” Still, it was an easier part of the conversation to digest than that of null cuffs and past crimes. Allowing the revelations to settle in, Terry picked at the waistband of her jeans, messing with one of her belt loops distractedly. “Yeah…Pretty heavy but it happens if you’re a mutant in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just lucky I ended up here I ‘spose,’” she gave a wry grin, although it masked what she really felt about it, which was a whole bag of mixed feelings, marred by something or other and the whole awkwardness of her biological father being around. “Bein’ cuffed…Man, that was fuckin’ hard. I was pretty much chewin’ the damned thing off at points, though most of the time I had it on, I was bein’ monitored at SHIELD’s headquarter place, so couldn’t do much about it then. Least here they took it off after a start…” Pausing, Terry got up and ferreted out another drink, returning to the table with slow steps, retaking her seat again. “I dunno if it was not bein’ able to use my powers or the fact they were taken. My powers are kinda easy ter not use unless I’m in a temper…” Stretching her leg out and propping it up on a spare chair, she shrugged and continued on. “Guess I’m alright. Try not to think about it too much, cause that don’t help any. Didn’t have my mother, or the most traditional upbringin’ grownin’ up, so it toughened me up a bit…I just hate bein’ shut up in this place. Me…well I got packed off to boarding school then I got packed off here. I just don’t want it to be a pattern, y’know? It doesn’t have to be, right?” She was glad, gladder than she might admit when he offered her cake and rolled her sea coloured eyes a little at his eyebrow action. “Cake’d be good. Can’t say no to a bit of chocolate, though really I don’t do too much dairy or chocolate, stuff like that,” tapping her throat knowingly, she held out her hand for a plate. “Stuff like that clogs. Ain’t the best for vocals.” “Y’know, I’m sharin’ all this about me, only fair you fess up something now, right? Cookin’s none too shocking,” the glint in her eye was mischievous, challenging him a little. While she doubted she could add Dallas to the list of drinking companions and alcohol rustlers – he seemed too honest – she figured he would be a safe bet for friends anyway. |
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| Specter | May 16 2010, 04:50 PM Post #11 |
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Unregistered
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Dallas laughed at Terry's response to the suggestion that they might end up being X-Men, but his smile faded into a frown as she talked more about ending up at the school and how maddening it was to be cuffed. An involuntary shiver crawled speedily down Dallas's spine at her words. A null cuff was something he'd never experienced but it was honestly the worst thing he could imagine. Just the thought of being cut off from his shadow, no matter how briefly, made him feel cold and frightened and claustrophobic. Actually experiencing that? He didn't know what he'd do in that situation but he suspected it'd involve tears and screams and a complete failure to cope. Best avoided, he felt. But Terry had actually been subjected to it. Unimaginable. He understood that occasionally these things were necessary but he had a suspicion that an outfit like SHIELD would utilise them as a matter of course rather than as the absolute last resort they should be. As far as he was concerned, they were torture devices. Pure and simple. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said softly, peering down at the crumbs on his plate under furrowed eyebrows. "That's just shitty. At least you'll never have to wear one of those things again." Dallas had a pretty simplistic, optimistic view of the world at times so it didn't occur to him that freedom from null cuffs was something Terry, or any mutant, couldn't bank on. In his mind, she was safe now and therefore she'd always be okay. His gaze trailed back up to her face and a smile touched his lips. "Nah, it totally doesn't have to be a pattern. I mean, SHIELD'll back off sooner or later, right? Give it some time and all these restrictions'll relax some, I bet. And then you'll be able to take control of your own life, you'll be able to do anything you wanna do. Everything'll be okay in the end, I know it." By the time he'd finished speaking, his words were being backed up by a sunny smile because Dallas really did believe that. Everything truly would be okay in the end. Terry was a cool person, she deserved a good life, so that's what she'd get. Why shouldn't she? "Cake it is," he said with a happy grin, pleased that somebody would be tasting the other dish he'd prepared today. Rising from his chair, he picked up their plates, dumped the remains of the pizza crusts into the trash and abandoned the plates on the counter. He'd clean them up later. "I would never have thought of that," he said as he located two fresh plates, looking back at Terry as she gestured at her throat. "Next time I cook for you, I'll make sure it's all stuff that's good for the throat, don't worry." This meant that he now intended to regularly subject Terry to his culinary skills. Poor Terry. Fishing around in the cutlery drawer for a suitable knife, Dallas grinned as Terry turned his questions onto him. "Something shocking, huh? Well..." He trailed off, pausing at the drawer to stare into space, his brain feverishly trying to think of a cool story he could impress her with but coming up empty. "Uh. Well. You know, I'm not sure I've really done anything shocking. I mean, I've done stuff but nothing too wild, I guess." This was his grandfather's fault. He'd run a very permissive household, figuring that if Dallas wanted to smoke or drink or 'study' with girls in his bedroom then he would whether Ernest allowed it or not so it was better to create an environment in which Dallas could talk to him about this stuff and behave responsibly. That level of freedom would send some kids careening off the rails but it actually worked in Dallas's case. He never felt a need to rebel, so whilst he had tried all those things, he hadn't gone nuts with them or gotten himself into trouble. And had no fun stories as a result. He laughed, closing the drawer with his hip before returning to the table with the knife. "How lame am I? I can tell you how I ended up here instead, if you like?" As he cut the cake, Dallas launched into his story. "I actually found out about this place a while ago. Somehow, my secret got out in my hometown and then one day I got an e-mail telling me about this place. I never did find out who sent it. Maybe it was another mutant trying to help me out or maybe it was from the teachers here, I don't know. I should ask them. Anyway, things were pretty rough at school so I liked the idea of this place but I couldn't go for it. Here you go," he said, interrupting himself to hand Terry a large slice of cake. "See, my Grandpa had been sick for a while and I needed to look after him. Because... well, the first time I merged with my shadow, he was there and... you know, it was a big shock for him, for both of us, and he had a heart attack. He's fine now but it was... it wasn't... well, you know. It was tough." Sitting down with his cake, he tried to push away the frown that accompanied those unpleasant memories. "Anyway, I tried to keep going but I was being beaten up a lot at school for being a mutant. And out of school sometimes. Every day in the end. Then they burnt down our house. That was the tipping point, really. It was just too dangerous to stay and if anything had happened to my Grandpa... I mean, he was already sick because of me and..." He shrugged. He always ran the risk of getting emotional when talking about his grandfather and he didn't want that so he smiled at Terry instead. "So I came here. My story's not as interesting as yours." |
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| Siryn | May 17 2010, 09:21 PM Post #12 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Shaking her head, her expression blank, Terry waved off his apology, not wanting the fuss about it. Sympathy was not something she was that fussed about receiving, all that warm fuzzy, emotional stuff was just not her cup of tea, not something that had ever been properly installed into her over the course of her short life to date. “Thanks and all, but I’m not one for sorrys and all that. It don’t change the fact it happened. I was sloppy, got meself caught, my own fault,” she stressed. While she had gone about committing crimes for her cousin out of a primary sense of family obligation, Theresa had never felt particularly forced to do it. She was strong willed and Tom knew that, he knew that if she really had not wanted to use her powers for wrong, then she wouldn’t have had to…Maybe. “There’s sad stuff in me life, but not what you’d think,” Terry added meaningfully, not intending to tell him about Maeve, her mother, but really if there was anything to pity about her upbringing, then it was never knowing her own mother. That was one of the things that was really starting to bother her, being cooped up in this school; she didn’t have any of her own things. Sure, they had been plenty generous and given her enough clothes and shoes to be perfectly comfortable, as well as anything else she had needed, but Terry wanted her things. Her shirts, her jeans, her socks….She wanted her photographs, her diary, her phone. They were all back where Tom had stashed her in the city, hopefully still there as it was apparently an old bolt hole of his, and he’d know if he dared get rid of them, she’d kick up a stink. She wished she could share his optimism about SHEILD, but in truth she didn’t, she just couldn’t see them backing off any time soon without something major happening, not on the mutant people anyway. Then there was her particular case…Wasn’t like she’d just been caught pinching from a sweetshop. The Irish girl quirked the corners of her mouth upwards in a smile as he passed over the cake. “Oh I don’t mind eating what’s bad for me, usually it tastes nicer. Just a technical point, something the nun that would teach choir would get on at us about. No chocolate before practise, before church…Got on me nerves something chronic and now I can’t forget it.” As she ate the cake, which was pretty good, she listened as Dallas spoke about his uneventful life apologetically. What was wrong with that? Before shit had started getting strange, she’d had a pretty normal upbringing…well for someone who was brought up in a fucking castle anyway. Normal was relative, didn’t they say? Which meant there was really no such thing other than your own standards, or not at all…. “Sorry to hear about your Grandpa,” Terry picked at her cake for a second, wondering about the story of the email. Yeah, it sounded like something someone here would do. Stick their well meaning nose in and help out a person in need in that well meaning way. A more awkward silence than before descended as she tried to piece together what to say to him about it. Things had been a little easier for her in many ways, as Tom had plenty of money to throw around in keeping her away from people like that and she had found her powers in a relatively controlled environment, which helped, although if she had stayed at her old school for too long, Terry could easily see things going wrong. “So…Is he alright now then? D’you keep in touch?” she asked after a few minutes, around a mouthful of cake. “I wouldn’t say me story was interestin’. Dramatic maybe and a bit of a pain in the arse…Nothin’ to go scorin’ points over unless it’s with those sorts who think they got it bad when all they ever got was a detention for talkin’ outta their arses to the teacher.” Swallowing a mouthful of cake, she gave him a smirk, hoping to cheer him up out of the dip his mood seemed to have taken. |
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| Specter | May 18 2010, 07:22 AM Post #13 |
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Unregistered
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The constant motion of his shadow was starting to bother even him so Dallas reached out across the mental link they shared and reasserted his control over it, not holding the shadow rigid but at least stopping it from pacing so relentlessly. Grumpily, the shadow sat itself down and folded its arms over its insubstantial black chest. It'd whine over this later when they were alone but Dallas was used to that. It was just nice to let his brain relax and allow his shadow some freedom at all. Outside the school, he had to maintain a tight leash on the shadow to make sure it behaved like anybody else's shadow would and didn't draw unwanted attention. That got draining after a while so it felt good to just let go here, where it was safe. Terry gave a quick shake of the head, making it clear that she didn't want to be pitied, and Dallas hoped he hadn't offended her by offering his sympathy. If he had, hopefully the cake would make up for it. Taking a mouthful, he was pleased to find it had turned out pretty decently, although his mind quickly filled with mental notes on improvements he could make next time he made it. Were he alone, he'd probably have retrieved his little cookery notebook (for Dallas Gibson was the kind of chump who owned such a thing) and jotted down his ideas about quantities of chocolate and types of icing but, thankfully, he wasn't about to embarrass himself like that in front of Terry. Instead, he just ate his cake like a normal person. When Terry mentioned having sad stuff in her past, Dallas lifted his gaze to meet hers but chose not to say anything in response or ask for further details. Some things were private, especially sad things, and that was something he could relate to. So he offered her an understanding nod, one he hoped would display that he wasn't dropping the subject out of lack of interest, just respect for her privacy. He smiled when she mentioned the nuns again, picturing them clucking their tongues at Terry from within their habits which, in Dallas's strange little brain, looked a lot like penguin suits. "That's one good thing about this place. No nuns." He popped a chunk of chocolate sponge into his mouth and then rethought that, reminding himself how bizarre some of the denizens of this building were. "Probably." An appreciative smile touched his lips when Terry offered her condolences, but then he wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't want the conversation to die but suddenly changing the subject felt almost like it would be disrespectful to his grandfather or something, or that it'd suggest he didn't really care about him. On the other hand, he didn't want to harp on about it either. It happened, it hadn't been fun, but they'd gotten through it and both Dallas and his grandfather were in better places now. He didn't want to drone on about how tough he'd had it because the truth was he'd had an easy ride compared to most people. In the end, it was Terry who broke the silence, asking about his grandfather. "Oh yeah, he's totally fine now. Well, he has to watch his diet and stuff but yeah, he's doing good. He moved to Portland to live with his sister when I left so he's safe now too. Grandpa's always been full of energy, nothing keeps him down for long." A fond smile touched his lips. He suspected his grandfather was probably enjoying his freedom without Dallas fussing around him like a mother hen. "And yeah, I talk to him all the time. We try to call every day. He worries if I don't stay in contact," he added, with a roll of his eyes, though his affectionate smile remained. He was lucky to have someone in his life who gave a crap and he knew it. "I should get him to come visit. He's awesome, you'd like him." Terry's attempt to cheer him up worked instantly, his own smile brightened by a laugh. Dallas was pretty low maintenance, really. Give him a smile or tell him his food tasted nice and all was well in Gibsonworld. Terry had done both those things tonight so she'd basically made a friend for life. "Oh man, yeah, how lame is it when people are like that? So childish." Glancing down at his half-eaten slice of cake, Dallas prodded it with his spoon, bothered that it wasn't perfect. "You think this is too chocolatey?" As if anything could ever be too chocolatey. |
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| Siryn | May 20 2010, 11:08 PM Post #14 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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The more she tried to ignore the shadow, the more Terry noticed it and it was starting to unsettle her. Shadows kind of fell where light demanded them to, they didn’t pick themselves up and wander, then stop and sit down in a sulk…Well, sure this one did, but it wasn’t what you usually saw. Shaking her attention away from its antics, she looked back at Dallas once more, righting her concentration. This school took some getting used to, no doubt about that. The fact that she might get used to it, all the crazy stuff, the mind bending, the power accidents, the drama and all the stuff like that, well that was the real worrying thing, that you might one day wake up and find that aliens had landed on your lawn and were drinking tea and making daisy chains and all you did was offer them a refill…Well, that was what worried her. As the conversation eased on, the redhead was quite glad that Dallas didn’t ask on about her life. It was one thing to mention it in passing, but it was another to have it dissected in conversation. The fact he did let it slide, giving her a knowing little nod, reassured her though, that if she did tell him that he would ‘get it’, should she chose to reveal her tales of woe. It made her feel a little more comfortable, a little less like running right out of the nearest window. “Oh, God above…That’s probably the best thing about this place. No nuns. Drove me flamin’ mad they did…” she dropped her cake and flapped her hands about, her fingers mimicking fast moving mouths and she made squawking noises, depicting the nuns for her friend, before rolling her eyes and slumping backwards in her seat, bringing her hand up to brush her red hair off of her forehead. “I’m surprised non of them turned up lookin’ fer me to be honest…Sort of left me school in Ireland a little unexpectedly.” Letting the matter slide, realising she was getting ahead of herself and tempting the conversation into areas she didn’t actually want to share in such a public area of the school, if at all, Terry busied herself with her cake instead. The American lad didn’t seem a nosey sort, but you never knew who was going to walk in on things…Like Cassidy. The thought made her feel like she wanted to hit something or cry or…it was numbing in a way, not knowing what it made her feel. Like suddenly she had access to so many answers but she suddenly couldn’t talk when it came to it. It was frustrating. Blocking it out as she listened to him talk about his Grandfather, Terry calmed herself so she could concentrate on his words, smiling a bit as he told her she’d like him. Maybe she would, the man didn’t sound nightmarish or overbearing or judgemental and that was a good start. “Well if you get him over ter visit we’ll see eh?” she nodded, not disagreeing but again there was that wondering in the back of her mind of how long she’d actually stick around in this place. It made making plans like that difficult, as she didn’t want to go back on a promise, she wasn’t that sort. Finishing off the plateful, the redhead snorted, glad that her new friend felt the same way about the oh so painfully cool little rebels that seemed to crop up here and there. Every school had them, after all. “Seriously, it’s like…Grow up. Sure, I know I’m a fine one ter talk and all, been in trouble since I could crawl but I admit it. Plus I ain’t exactly sniffin’ tippex and makin’ out ter be edgy as all hell. Not that getting’ arrested is anythin’ ter be proud of but…” she trailed off, deliberately leaving it hanging. He’d get the gist of things without her having to bang on about it any more than she already had. Draining her drink, she crushed up her can in her hand. “That was good. Not too chocolatey. Maybe some fudge’d go nice with it. Bit of orange maybe…” she suggested and cleared her plate, throwing away her trash in the bin in the corner of the kitchen and patted her stomach, content. “I’m stuffed now.” |
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| Specter | May 21 2010, 04:53 AM Post #15 |
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Unregistered
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If Dallas had noticed that Terry was unsettled by the oddness of his shadow, he didn't show it. The truth was, he was somewhat oblivious to the way people reacted to his constant companion. He was so accustomed to its presence, to the way it moved, the way it echoed around the edges of his psyche, that he tended to forget there was anything unusual about the situation. What felt entirely natural and commonplace to him wasn't quite so normal for other people. At least he wasn't involving his shadow in the conversation. Thankfully, he retained enough self-awareness to realise that chatting to the insubstantial silhouette on the wall in front of another person might seem a bit weird. So instead he saved his shadow conversations for when he was alone. Which was, admittedly, also weird but private weirdness was better than public weirdness. Probably. Terry's impression of the nuns made him laugh, his hand raising to cover his mouth as he did so because he had a mouthful of cake at the time. "Well, if they turn up here, we'll soon show them the door, don't worry about that. We've got plenty of crazy teachers of our own, we don't need any more, right?" Again, his friend was alluding to further trouble in her past and again, Dallas elected to let the subject go. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel interrogated, especially considering he had few meaty stories of his own to offer in trade. She didn't rule out the possibility of meeting his grandfather and that made him wonder about how realistic it would be to have a human relative stop by. They prized their privacy here, for obvious reasons, guarded it meticulously, so would anybody mind if he brought an outsider to the institute? It was his grandfather, after all, not some random dude off the street. Maybe it wouldn't be wise anyway. Dallas's time at the school hadn't convinced him that it was the safest place to be and he wouldn't want his aging grandfather to be caught up in any of the shenanigans that went on. He'd have to give it some thought. Popping the last of his slice of the cake into his mouth, he listened as Terry talked about the attention-seeking types that every school seemed to have its share of, nodding along in agreement with her words. "That's the thing," he said after a moment once he'd swallowed his mouthful, "People who've actually had a life don't need to shout about it. It's the ones who've never done anything that get desperate for attention. They're compensating or something." Luckily, he hadn't really met anyone like that here yet. There was Kevin who was... well, he was horrible but he seemed to have an actual reason for his angst. He was sure those types were out there though, lurking in dark corners. He picked up the discarded scrunched-up paper towel he'd already used once and found a clean bit to wipe his sticky fingers on, listening intently to Terry's verdict on the cake. A smile spread over his lips when she described it as good. Happy days. "Ooh, orange. I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, that'd work. I'll try that next time." Standing up, he hovered for a moment, scanning the room until he spotted a pad of post-its and a pen which were, for some reason, sitting on top of the fridge. "I'm gonna leave a note telling people to help themselves to the leftovers," he declared, mostly to himself. After a quick stretch and a pat of his full tummy, he wandered over to the fridge to do just that. As he was scribbling out a note, he glanced up at Terry. He was sleepy, probably because he'd just eaten, but it wasn't quite late enough for bed yet. "Hey, do you wanna see if there's a DVD worth watching in the boys lounge? Something that's not High School Musical?" he added with a grin. Actually, High School Musical might not be too bad, they'd have a grand old time ripping it to shreds. |
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6:58 PM Jul 11