So like Tim hasa stalker?
Like that's totally weird. I wonder if it's a jilted lover or something?
Okay no... that's just plain weird. Like I mean I can't see Tim knowing a girl his own age likes him. Let alone hooking up with some random older guy.....
=XS= Rec Room - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
This, my friends, is a place for people to come and relax. A wide screen television in one area of the room has collected mismatched and aging sofas and chairs around, from the 1940s by their solid design. Pale green wallpaper embossed with gold leaf patterns lightens the rich, dark grandeur of the rest of the main floor. Card tables have claimed space along the windows, but an air hockey table and fooseball table hold place of pride in the center. A storage cupboard by a small corner fireplace promises board games, puzzles and other delights, and a cushioned window seat offer an excellent spot for a nap.
Some quiet times in the rec room. Tobias is sitting in a seat near the television, with his hedgehog snuffling about his lap. He has a notebook in hand, and seems to be sketching over something covered in x's and o's. Every so often, he reaches down to herd the spiny little pet from dropping off the cliffs of Tobias' knees.
Walter wanders into the room, a textbook in hand. He pauses just inside the door, glancing over with a raised eyebrow towards the hedgehog. He continues, heading for a window seat, where he lounges in the sun, reading the assigned chapter.
Tobias looks up from his notebook to watch Walter enter, and offers a nod to the other student. "Hey," he says with a small grin, "What class?" He looks back down to scratch the hedgehog's head.
"History," Walter responds, lifting the book enough to display the cover. "When did you get the hedgehog?" he asks, looking towards the small creature.
Skipping into the Rec Room, reading a book on hostage negotiation as she goes, comes a Cassy. The telekinetic terror gets most of the way into the room, before glancing up at the other occupants. "Oh. It's /you/," she mutters, spotting Walter.
"Lombardi?" Tobias asks, as if there were any other hedgehogs in the room. "Had him a couple weeks now. He didn't come out for a while when he was getting used to his cage." He looks to the book and shakes his head. "Not really my thing," he says with a shrug. "Want to hold him?" Cassy takes his attention and he rolls his eyes. "You two still at it?"
Walter gives a resigned sigh. "Usually are." He looks at Cassy. "Still mad about what I said about your group, huh?"
"I'm just waiting for the apology I deserve," Cassy declares, heading towards an empty couch. "And I'm not mad, I'm justifiably annoyed."
Tobias looks between the two and shakes his head. "Well," he says, turning to make a few marks in his notebook. "You have my Buffy DVDs, Cass, and Walter, you have my Blue Oyster Cult. When you two go at at, can you try to avoid destroying my things?"
Walter sighs again. "Look, I'm sorry about the Jones comment," he admits. "It was kind of out of line. I... just don't want anything like that to happen again, you understand right?" he wonders, staring down at the book in his lap, shoulders slouched.
"Maybe you should think about how someone else might feel about that sort of thing before you start making wild accusations?" Cassy suggests. She shrugs at Tobias and adds "I generally try avoid collateral damage, unless it's something which'll look cool exploding."
Looking surprised, Tobias makes a few jotting notes down on his pad. "This is unexpected," he comments, reaching down to herd a hedgehog. "Is it time for you guys to hug and the host walk out to reveal the camera?"
Walter shoots Tobias a look before returning his attention to Cassy. "I didn't think you were actually /trying/ to make that happen again," he admits, trying to meet the telekinetic's eyes. "And your little club isn't that bad."
"Like I said, if I got an apology I'd consider a truce," Cassy points out between skim reading pages of the book. "As for hugging, that's way out unless I get a hazmat suit. I guess maybe this means you can join in the non supervised stuff too, like the homework club."
"Don't make me find a catalogue with one of those suits in it," Tobias warns, grinning. "At any rate, apologies all around, can we work as a real team now?"
Walter looks at Tobias. "That depends, you going to steal the instructor's clothes when you're unhappy?" he asks, just a bit of the old venom coming back.
Cassy rolls her eyes. "I could never wear one of those suits anyway, I'm just too pretty to be hidden away like that."
"Tactical maneuver, boy scout," Tobias says, scratching Lombardi's head. "Now here's a real question. How's your hand eye?" he asks Walter, before looking to Cassy, "Because all that strength and speed you got won't do shit without coordination to go with it."
Walter rolls his eyes. "My coordination's fine, I just suck at basketball," he says, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't be able to do half the stuff Mr. Summers has me doing if it wasn't."
"Hand eye as in hand eye co-ordination?" Cassy asks with an impish grin. "Or do you mean telekinesis? Which in my case is totally the hand of my eye. Either way I totally rock at them and I'll be even better once I get started with my knife throwing."
Tobias looks pleased, eyes going to his notebook. He has a little grin on his face as he adjusts his glasses and looks to Walter. "How are you at baseball?"
Walter gives a rather impressive flinch at Cassy's comment, somewhat similar to the one he makes in response to none too distant explosions. "Your what?" he asks, staring at Cassy.
"Baseball is boring," Cassy points out. "And I'm taking up knife throwing, like they do in the circus. Only I guess they won't let me throw them at the cute girl just yet. But it totally gives Mira something to look forward to."
"Don't pass judgment just yet, Cass," Tobias says, still grinning. "I was thinking about playing a little game of catch. House rules."
Walter stares at Cassy. "And they're letting you?" he wonders.
"I'm not sure. I haven't quite asked yet," Cassy admits with an impish grin. "Baseball /is/ boring because no-one cool likes baseball."
Tobias sighs, looking down. "Why do people not pay attention?" he asks his hedgehog. "You want to throw baseballs at Walter using your mind?" he puts it to Cassy bluntly.
/That/ gets Walter's attention. "Wait, what?" he asks Tobias, staring at the other boy.
"Your ideas are intriguing to me and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter," Cassy says solemnly.
"Calm down, boy wonder," Tobias says, turning his notebook around to show. On the looseleaf is an X and an O, with a zig zag line between them. "Not much, I know, but I suck at art. The point is," he starts to explain, "A baseball is about fist size. Walter, you have to be able to dodge, block, or grab people in case we need to defend ourselves. Cass, you have your TK. What I propose is a game of catch. Hurling the ball back and forth at each other, while trying to stop it and sending it back to the other person. Plus, you two can work out the bad feelings."
"Depending on how hard she's TKing them, they're going to hurt a lot more than a fist," Walter points out. "Fists have some give." He looks at the chart, considering it for a moment. "I'd run it by the teachers before you start filling the medbay with nasty bruises."
Cassy shrugs. "My TK throws would be no worse than your strength boosted ones," she points out. "And I suspect the idea is we wear padding."
"Finally someone thinks!" Tobias says, throwing his arms up, then quickly he's back down to tend to the ball of spines that is his startled hedgehog. "And baseballs are rubber, twine, and leather. I'd be willing to guess bone is a bit tougher," he adds to Walter. But yes, some protective padding, and you guys can work on quick movement and coordination."
"Bone has more give than you'd think. Especially somewhere with a lot of joints, like the hand," Walter shares. He considers Cassy for a moment. "I won't go all out if you don't."
"It doesn't matter how hard you throw Walter," Cassy notes. "I can TK it out of the way without even a moments worry."
"Do points make a funny sound when they woosh by your head, Walter?" Tobias states with a roll of his eyes. "You don't get anywhere by holding back. You don't build. You need to push limits to get farther."
"Not killing my classmates would be helpful too," Walter points out. "Or if you really think we'll learn a lot by me caving in someone's skull..."
Cassy beams. "I'd be wearing a helmet and don't you dare tell me you wouldn't like the chance to throw something at me."
Tobias pushes his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. "There's a difference between pushing yourself and trying to kill someone," he says flatly. "Can you stop with this cardboard arguing you're doing? It's sad." He looks to Cassy and smiles. "Thank you for actually paying attention."
"When you're as strong as I am, we'd need to put the person I'm throwing at in goalie gear to avoid hurting them if I throw at full strength, Tobias," Walter says. "Force really isn't the direction I need to be pushing my limits on."
"I always pay attention," Cassy says solemnly. "You just have to be interesting enough to make it obvious."
Tobias looks ready to stand up, but Lombardi prevents that from happening, so Tobias just looks up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Stop waving your dick around for a second and think, you egotistical boy scout," he mutters angrily. "You're job is to learn to catch, to dodge, to /avoid/ being hit by something or someone. Her's is both to get some accuracy and strength, as well as deflecting, or rebounding your throws. I already drew you a damn picture, what more do you need before that thick skull of yours is penetrated?"
"How about a better picture?" Walter wonders. "Or maybe if you actually pointed out that we have different jobs at some point in this entire speech?" he asks, voice raising. "Don't get on my case because you can't communicate well."
Cassy sighs. "Play nice kids," she orders. "Look Walter you wouldn't have to worry about throwing all out at me, because I can slow the ball or just pain deflect it. It's simple as pie, I've already had plenty of lessons doing more complex stuff."
"I already explained it clearly," Tobias says flatly, looking at Cassy, "And she applied enough thought to figure out the things I didn't smack her upside the head with." He sighs and scratches his hedgehog's head. "Listen man," he says, calmer now, "You really need to work on being so bull headed against people you don't necessarily like. Just because we aren't bestest friends, doesn't make us dumb, or inconsiderate, or cruel. No matter how much you want to be justified in hating us."
"Look, all I heard was that she and I would be throwing baseballs back and forth /at each other/," Walter says. "I'm so sorry that I heard that and thought that this little exercise of yours might involve, oh... I don't know... me throwing something at Cassy!" He glares at Tobias. "Maybe, just maybe, I didn't get the point because you weren't making it well enough."
"And here I was thinking you've been waiting forever for a change to throw stuff at me," Cassy points out with a giggle.
Tobias rubs the bridge of his nose again. "You're right, and if you listened to everything, I explained how you need to be able to dodge, block, and defend yourself. You even made a comparison between fist and ball," he says, sounding exasperated. "Do you forget the things you just said?"
"Cassy, you can be a pain in the butt sometimes, and after that entire thing with the chickens, part of me wanted to put you through a wall, but you're Mira's best friend," Walter says, looking to the girl. "And I got beat up on enough growing up to not want to settle things that way." Then he turns to Tobias, taking a moment to take a deep breath. "And I thought you meant we'd be doing the same exercise, just that the same task was supposed to give us both different skills, and when I said I'd be holding back, I meant strength wise. Because, as annoying as Cassy can be, I don't want to give her a /real/ reason to hate me."
Cassy pouts. "Calling me annoying all the time is a pretty good way to start."
Tobias scratches Lombardi's head again, leaning against the back of the chair. "Just one question, man," He says to Walter, pushing his glasses up. "Cass is pretty capable, if you give her a chance," he explains, looking to Cassy. "Both of you are. You both could just use getting your heads out of your respective asses. Cassy, you can be overbearing, don't let it get to you and set you against someone. Walter, you're too much of a boy scout. Your hearts in the right place, but man, Cass is capable of taking care of herself against a baseball. Even if it is thrown by you."
"You missed the 'sometimes,' huh?" Walter says to Cassy. "And it's not like you haven't called me worse." He looks over to Tobias. "Better safe than sorry, and worrying about hurting someone doesn't make me a boy scout."
"Underestimating people is a very risky habit," Cassy warns, springing up from the couch. "Anyway I totally have to get ready for my extra fencing practise. You boys play nice or if you /must/ argue let me know and I'll send someone to find you a ruler."
"We can argue," Tobias tells Cassy. "Not like we could ever come to blows," he points out. "And Walter, you're a boy scout. Ask pretty much anyone here."
Walter rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He grabs his textbook. "I'm going to go and try and find somewhere quieter to study."
"I just meant with a ruler you could just see who was bigger and be done with it," Cassy teases, flicking to the next page as she skips towards the exit. "Anyway I'll cya both later, we can put the idea to a group vote and then get teacher opinions regarding safety measures."
"See ya Walter, hope you're enjoying that CD!" Tobias calls out after the departing boy. "Next time you run into me, I'll let you hold onto Lombardi," he calls out to Cassy before relaxing with his notebook, making more scribbles.
"I think he was just ignoring that comment, Cassy," Walter says. He gives a nod to Tobias. "I'll give you back the CD too," he says. "Bye," he says, giving a wave as he heads out the other door.
=XS= Kitchen - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
A relic of Victorian times, this kitchen is vast, with more than one oven and several stainless steel work surfaces taking the space once claimed by coal hoppers, cooking hearths and cast-iron stoves. Walls still done in period plaster and tile, and the floor still the original fieldstone, fluorescent lights have been installed overhead to bring the lighting up to modern level. At meal times, kitchen workers scurry to and fro with pans and food and various other sundry items, under the watchful eye of the aging head cook, but once past, order is restored, with copper-bottomed pans hanging above the kitchen island, and a tray of cold snacks left out for foraging students and staff alike. Folding wood doors screen off a pantry capable of holding food for an large household's weekly meals -- or three days' worth of teenager food.
Tim is not exactly a student known for his neatness and cleanliness. Still, even his haphazard appearance isn't usually this bad. Sweat dripping down his face, hands and face stained with potting soil, and a few good smears across his clothing to match. On the bright side he doesn't smell that bad for the appearance. To add another bit of curiosity to the boy today, as he waddles into the kitchen with a slight limp on his right side, he doesn't head straight for the food. This time he heads for the sink.
Lurking in the kitchen, looking rather guilty is a certian teenage red head. "Hey Tim," she declares, trying to quickly brush the sugar off her fingers. "What'cha up to?"
"Taking a quick break. You should see some of the new flowers we're planting in there, they are really neat looking." Tim answers back with some excitement in his voice. Reaching up and over the sink to turn it on, he puts his elbows over the side and begins to rinse the worst of the dirt from his fingers. "There is the one as tall as I am that kinda looks like a big pink tongue."
Cassy hops off the chair, discreetly sliding a large jar of sugar away. "Gardening? Uhm awesome I guess," she says with a shrug. "I'm not really a flower girl, they're just not cool enough."
The jar catches the boy's attention and he isn't very good at hiding it. His eyes lock onto it and he leans back and to the side as it slides. For now at least he doesn't say anything about it, but his face is slathered in curiosity. "Well... no flowers, huh? What /would/ be cool enough?" He asks jerking a sheet of paper towel off to finish off washing his hands.
Cassy whistles innocently as the jar slides further away from her. "What would be cool? Like hitting the mall to buy stuff or maybe hanging out with a bunch of cute boys. Or maybe cute girls I can't decide which I'd prefer at the minute."
"Well..." Tim begins, but there is some reservation in his voice as he does. A quiet respectful 'Library' voice. The whistling does not help his curious face, though, and his brow quirks even more. "You might be able to do that. Try and tag along some of the kids going out for last minute 'Mother's Day' presents." Stepping back from the sink, Tim slings some of the water off his hands and balls up the towel. His attention now turns towards the fridge.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'd rather not be anywhere near anyone involved in /that/ day," Cassy says sullenly.
"Yeah-" Tim apologizing, mirroring her tone. "Me neither. Sorry." The sudden need of a subject change and building curiosity defeat the boy's tact, and he asks. "So... uhm... are you cooking something? I promise I wont ask for any."
Cassy coughs. "Nope I was just eating sugar because I'm all out of candy and I haven't tracked down where Mira has hidden hers this time."
"The potted plant just inside the boy's hallway, near Tobias's room." Tim offers after some consideration, and there is still a small tone of apology in his words.. "Not one of her's, one of mine. Being without candy is inhuman."
"Nah look I'll be fine and it's just not the same as stealing Mira's candy. Or at least I will be after I brush my teeth about fifty times to make up for my choice of snacks," Cassy promises, brushing the last of the sugar off. "So what've you been doing lately Tim? Just gardening? I've been kinda busy with my club activities so I'm way out the loop."
"Nothing really, been volunteering at Dr. Grey's clinic in town for a couple of days. Getting ready for the summer." Tim explains as the fridge is opened and milk is taken out. "Trying to figure out what.. Oh! Owe!" The boy's limp is exaggerated as he closes the fridge's door and tries to hop one footed towards the counter and a seat. To his merit, he doesn't drop the jug of milk on his way!
Cassy glances up. "Whatever it was I'm totally not to blame," she declares. "I bet it was Walter putting tacks on the floor to try and trap unwary victims."
"It's Walter's fault." Tim agrees, though he's mostly joking between painful winces as he pulls the offending foot up and starts to pry his shoe off. "He's the one that made me get new shoes." There is... blood. Not a lot of it, but as he yanks the shoe off completely there is a black shard of plastic sticking out of his arch, the soaking red beginning to seep into his sock. "What...huh?"
"How the hell did you manage that?" Cassy wonders, skipping briskly for the first aid kit. "I mean like getting your shoe on with sharp stuff in takes skill. You're totally lucky Doctor Grey made me take a first aid course, because otherwise you'd be explaining bloody footprints to the cleaners."
"I don't know, something just kinda... 'popped' when I stepped down." Tim tries to explain just as confused. He places his fingers on the shard and with a good yank... pulls it out. That probably should have hurt a lot, but at this point Tim's face just remains blank to it. It went most of an inch in from the looks of it. "And that wouldn't be the strangest thing they've had to clean up, and you know it."
"One chicken joke and I fetch the salt," Cassy warns, waving a bundle of bandages at Tim. "Maybe someone was shoplifting and they hid stuff in your shoe?" With supprising efficiency the telekinetic teen begins preparing a suitably dressing for Tim's foot. "Best go with a bandage thing rather than a band-aid, less chance of it falling off when you're walking about."
Tim holds up the hand that still has the shard in it and crosses his heart with the other, mocking a good dose of fear in his eyes when he does. "Promise, no chicken jokes." Pulling the part white, part red sock off, the wound isn't too horribly bad, just a good slice in the foot where the piece of plastic used to be. The boy balls up the sock to hold away the bleeding while he waits for the girl with some know-how to finish the bandage. "Well, that explains why these shoes were so horrible, then. But... how were they gonna get it back outa my shoe?" Tim is not the brightest bulb right now.
"Try take a look and see what it was?" Cassy suggests, putting on the bandage. "Man why does everything in the medkit look so boring? Not a single skull and crossbone band-aid or bright pink bandage in sight."
Not much blood in the shoe. Just a few drops. But there is something jutting up out of the soles of his shoe. A few more plastic shards that at one time made up a very very thin plastic box. With a curious face, Tim puts down the piece in his one hand and reaches down into his shoe in his lap and pulls on the plastic there until the box comes out. There are some electronics inside and a long wire coming out one end of it that just keeps coming out of the shoe as he pulls. There is some kinda... microphone in the side of it. "They tried to steal... an MP3 player?" Tim guesses.
"Not with wiring like that it isn't," Cassy corrects, pausing to stare at the gadget. "Looks kinda familiar though, like something off the spy gear websites I've been looking on. The wire's probably for sending out signals... Shit Tim is it still working?"
"I don't know!" Tim answers quickly and slightly panicked at the idea, holding the bug out for Cassy to take. As he holds it there, his face is wide eyed, as if he expects thing thing to explode at any moment. "How... how can you tell?"
Cassy wraps an extra layer of microporous tape over the bandage, then pushes the medkits contents back in the box. "Let's see," she murmurs, accepting the little device. After a few moments of prodding she declares "The insides are cracked, so I'd guess you killed it. You're /so/ lucky you haven't been dieting!"
"Well, it fought back." Tim protest after a moment of goldfishing. An odd need to defend himself after the diet remark. "Thanks for the help, Cassy." he offers with a nod towards the bandage. "What kinda thing do you think it is? A camera or something?" Nope, not the brightest bulb at all.
"In your shoe?" Cassy points out with an impish grin. "More likely it's a microphone, how long did you say you'd had these shoes for?"
And the boy's mouth goldfishes again, his cheeks turning slightly red in embarrassment. "Microphone... yeah." He agrees before he thinks about how long he's had 'em. "A, uhm, about a week I guess. Got 'em just after Walter told me... oh! That weird guy that was following us. There was this guy out front and Walter thought he had a camera." He isn't completely past putting 2 and 2 together.
"Okaaaaaaaaaaay, Tim you did warn people about this right?" Cassy asks cautiously. "Because it seems like you've got a stalker who has recordings of your entire life, plus stuff from inside a clinic. I mean I'm guessing Doctor Grey could get in serious trouble if confidential information about people got leaked...."
Tim nods furiously, panic, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes with every word Cassy says. "Y-yeah, we told 'em when we got back to the school. Turned right around, but I haven't seen him since then." Tim puts the shoe down very carefully, raising his hand cautiously against it. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong, I don't wanna get her in trouble!"
Cassy bounces gleefully. "I bet this means we get to sweep the mansion for bugs!"
"There are more of 'em, you think?" Tim asks wide eyed as he begins to slide down off the seat. He isn't anywhere near as excited about the idea.
"Probably," Cassy admits. "Unless they're spying on you specifically. It could also be tracking your movements ready for a kidnapping." She coughs. "I am /totally/ not helping am I? Go speak with Doctor Grey like totally soon and show her the gadget thingy and try think of anything damaging they could have overheard. Like medical stuff or secret school business."
"Yeah... Dr. Grey... yeah." Alright, coherency is leaving Tim at this point. He stuffs the spy thing back inside his shoe and holds it very carefully, still not entirely convinced that it wont spew poison gas. "And... Walter... he better search his shoes too!" Tim heads for the exit.
"Just remember to clean the cut out if you're going to be walking about without socks!" Cassy shouts after Tim. "I am /so/ not getting the blame if you end up with infected feet." She huffs and begins cleaning the kitchen of bloody marks before it somehow leads to her ending up in detention.
Okay no... that's just plain weird. Like I mean I can't see Tim knowing a girl his own age likes him. Let alone hooking up with some random older guy.....
=XS= Rec Room - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
This, my friends, is a place for people to come and relax. A wide screen television in one area of the room has collected mismatched and aging sofas and chairs around, from the 1940s by their solid design. Pale green wallpaper embossed with gold leaf patterns lightens the rich, dark grandeur of the rest of the main floor. Card tables have claimed space along the windows, but an air hockey table and fooseball table hold place of pride in the center. A storage cupboard by a small corner fireplace promises board games, puzzles and other delights, and a cushioned window seat offer an excellent spot for a nap.
Some quiet times in the rec room. Tobias is sitting in a seat near the television, with his hedgehog snuffling about his lap. He has a notebook in hand, and seems to be sketching over something covered in x's and o's. Every so often, he reaches down to herd the spiny little pet from dropping off the cliffs of Tobias' knees.
Walter wanders into the room, a textbook in hand. He pauses just inside the door, glancing over with a raised eyebrow towards the hedgehog. He continues, heading for a window seat, where he lounges in the sun, reading the assigned chapter.
Tobias looks up from his notebook to watch Walter enter, and offers a nod to the other student. "Hey," he says with a small grin, "What class?" He looks back down to scratch the hedgehog's head.
"History," Walter responds, lifting the book enough to display the cover. "When did you get the hedgehog?" he asks, looking towards the small creature.
Skipping into the Rec Room, reading a book on hostage negotiation as she goes, comes a Cassy. The telekinetic terror gets most of the way into the room, before glancing up at the other occupants. "Oh. It's /you/," she mutters, spotting Walter.
"Lombardi?" Tobias asks, as if there were any other hedgehogs in the room. "Had him a couple weeks now. He didn't come out for a while when he was getting used to his cage." He looks to the book and shakes his head. "Not really my thing," he says with a shrug. "Want to hold him?" Cassy takes his attention and he rolls his eyes. "You two still at it?"
Walter gives a resigned sigh. "Usually are." He looks at Cassy. "Still mad about what I said about your group, huh?"
"I'm just waiting for the apology I deserve," Cassy declares, heading towards an empty couch. "And I'm not mad, I'm justifiably annoyed."
Tobias looks between the two and shakes his head. "Well," he says, turning to make a few marks in his notebook. "You have my Buffy DVDs, Cass, and Walter, you have my Blue Oyster Cult. When you two go at at, can you try to avoid destroying my things?"
Walter sighs again. "Look, I'm sorry about the Jones comment," he admits. "It was kind of out of line. I... just don't want anything like that to happen again, you understand right?" he wonders, staring down at the book in his lap, shoulders slouched.
"Maybe you should think about how someone else might feel about that sort of thing before you start making wild accusations?" Cassy suggests. She shrugs at Tobias and adds "I generally try avoid collateral damage, unless it's something which'll look cool exploding."
Looking surprised, Tobias makes a few jotting notes down on his pad. "This is unexpected," he comments, reaching down to herd a hedgehog. "Is it time for you guys to hug and the host walk out to reveal the camera?"
Walter shoots Tobias a look before returning his attention to Cassy. "I didn't think you were actually /trying/ to make that happen again," he admits, trying to meet the telekinetic's eyes. "And your little club isn't that bad."
"Like I said, if I got an apology I'd consider a truce," Cassy points out between skim reading pages of the book. "As for hugging, that's way out unless I get a hazmat suit. I guess maybe this means you can join in the non supervised stuff too, like the homework club."
"Don't make me find a catalogue with one of those suits in it," Tobias warns, grinning. "At any rate, apologies all around, can we work as a real team now?"
Walter looks at Tobias. "That depends, you going to steal the instructor's clothes when you're unhappy?" he asks, just a bit of the old venom coming back.
Cassy rolls her eyes. "I could never wear one of those suits anyway, I'm just too pretty to be hidden away like that."
"Tactical maneuver, boy scout," Tobias says, scratching Lombardi's head. "Now here's a real question. How's your hand eye?" he asks Walter, before looking to Cassy, "Because all that strength and speed you got won't do shit without coordination to go with it."
Walter rolls his eyes. "My coordination's fine, I just suck at basketball," he says, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't be able to do half the stuff Mr. Summers has me doing if it wasn't."
"Hand eye as in hand eye co-ordination?" Cassy asks with an impish grin. "Or do you mean telekinesis? Which in my case is totally the hand of my eye. Either way I totally rock at them and I'll be even better once I get started with my knife throwing."
Tobias looks pleased, eyes going to his notebook. He has a little grin on his face as he adjusts his glasses and looks to Walter. "How are you at baseball?"
Walter gives a rather impressive flinch at Cassy's comment, somewhat similar to the one he makes in response to none too distant explosions. "Your what?" he asks, staring at Cassy.
"Baseball is boring," Cassy points out. "And I'm taking up knife throwing, like they do in the circus. Only I guess they won't let me throw them at the cute girl just yet. But it totally gives Mira something to look forward to."
"Don't pass judgment just yet, Cass," Tobias says, still grinning. "I was thinking about playing a little game of catch. House rules."
Walter stares at Cassy. "And they're letting you?" he wonders.
"I'm not sure. I haven't quite asked yet," Cassy admits with an impish grin. "Baseball /is/ boring because no-one cool likes baseball."
Tobias sighs, looking down. "Why do people not pay attention?" he asks his hedgehog. "You want to throw baseballs at Walter using your mind?" he puts it to Cassy bluntly.
/That/ gets Walter's attention. "Wait, what?" he asks Tobias, staring at the other boy.
"Your ideas are intriguing to me and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter," Cassy says solemnly.
"Calm down, boy wonder," Tobias says, turning his notebook around to show. On the looseleaf is an X and an O, with a zig zag line between them. "Not much, I know, but I suck at art. The point is," he starts to explain, "A baseball is about fist size. Walter, you have to be able to dodge, block, or grab people in case we need to defend ourselves. Cass, you have your TK. What I propose is a game of catch. Hurling the ball back and forth at each other, while trying to stop it and sending it back to the other person. Plus, you two can work out the bad feelings."
"Depending on how hard she's TKing them, they're going to hurt a lot more than a fist," Walter points out. "Fists have some give." He looks at the chart, considering it for a moment. "I'd run it by the teachers before you start filling the medbay with nasty bruises."
Cassy shrugs. "My TK throws would be no worse than your strength boosted ones," she points out. "And I suspect the idea is we wear padding."
"Finally someone thinks!" Tobias says, throwing his arms up, then quickly he's back down to tend to the ball of spines that is his startled hedgehog. "And baseballs are rubber, twine, and leather. I'd be willing to guess bone is a bit tougher," he adds to Walter. But yes, some protective padding, and you guys can work on quick movement and coordination."
"Bone has more give than you'd think. Especially somewhere with a lot of joints, like the hand," Walter shares. He considers Cassy for a moment. "I won't go all out if you don't."
"It doesn't matter how hard you throw Walter," Cassy notes. "I can TK it out of the way without even a moments worry."
"Do points make a funny sound when they woosh by your head, Walter?" Tobias states with a roll of his eyes. "You don't get anywhere by holding back. You don't build. You need to push limits to get farther."
"Not killing my classmates would be helpful too," Walter points out. "Or if you really think we'll learn a lot by me caving in someone's skull..."
Cassy beams. "I'd be wearing a helmet and don't you dare tell me you wouldn't like the chance to throw something at me."
Tobias pushes his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. "There's a difference between pushing yourself and trying to kill someone," he says flatly. "Can you stop with this cardboard arguing you're doing? It's sad." He looks to Cassy and smiles. "Thank you for actually paying attention."
"When you're as strong as I am, we'd need to put the person I'm throwing at in goalie gear to avoid hurting them if I throw at full strength, Tobias," Walter says. "Force really isn't the direction I need to be pushing my limits on."
"I always pay attention," Cassy says solemnly. "You just have to be interesting enough to make it obvious."
Tobias looks ready to stand up, but Lombardi prevents that from happening, so Tobias just looks up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Stop waving your dick around for a second and think, you egotistical boy scout," he mutters angrily. "You're job is to learn to catch, to dodge, to /avoid/ being hit by something or someone. Her's is both to get some accuracy and strength, as well as deflecting, or rebounding your throws. I already drew you a damn picture, what more do you need before that thick skull of yours is penetrated?"
"How about a better picture?" Walter wonders. "Or maybe if you actually pointed out that we have different jobs at some point in this entire speech?" he asks, voice raising. "Don't get on my case because you can't communicate well."
Cassy sighs. "Play nice kids," she orders. "Look Walter you wouldn't have to worry about throwing all out at me, because I can slow the ball or just pain deflect it. It's simple as pie, I've already had plenty of lessons doing more complex stuff."
"I already explained it clearly," Tobias says flatly, looking at Cassy, "And she applied enough thought to figure out the things I didn't smack her upside the head with." He sighs and scratches his hedgehog's head. "Listen man," he says, calmer now, "You really need to work on being so bull headed against people you don't necessarily like. Just because we aren't bestest friends, doesn't make us dumb, or inconsiderate, or cruel. No matter how much you want to be justified in hating us."
"Look, all I heard was that she and I would be throwing baseballs back and forth /at each other/," Walter says. "I'm so sorry that I heard that and thought that this little exercise of yours might involve, oh... I don't know... me throwing something at Cassy!" He glares at Tobias. "Maybe, just maybe, I didn't get the point because you weren't making it well enough."
"And here I was thinking you've been waiting forever for a change to throw stuff at me," Cassy points out with a giggle.
Tobias rubs the bridge of his nose again. "You're right, and if you listened to everything, I explained how you need to be able to dodge, block, and defend yourself. You even made a comparison between fist and ball," he says, sounding exasperated. "Do you forget the things you just said?"
"Cassy, you can be a pain in the butt sometimes, and after that entire thing with the chickens, part of me wanted to put you through a wall, but you're Mira's best friend," Walter says, looking to the girl. "And I got beat up on enough growing up to not want to settle things that way." Then he turns to Tobias, taking a moment to take a deep breath. "And I thought you meant we'd be doing the same exercise, just that the same task was supposed to give us both different skills, and when I said I'd be holding back, I meant strength wise. Because, as annoying as Cassy can be, I don't want to give her a /real/ reason to hate me."
Cassy pouts. "Calling me annoying all the time is a pretty good way to start."
Tobias scratches Lombardi's head again, leaning against the back of the chair. "Just one question, man," He says to Walter, pushing his glasses up. "Cass is pretty capable, if you give her a chance," he explains, looking to Cassy. "Both of you are. You both could just use getting your heads out of your respective asses. Cassy, you can be overbearing, don't let it get to you and set you against someone. Walter, you're too much of a boy scout. Your hearts in the right place, but man, Cass is capable of taking care of herself against a baseball. Even if it is thrown by you."
"You missed the 'sometimes,' huh?" Walter says to Cassy. "And it's not like you haven't called me worse." He looks over to Tobias. "Better safe than sorry, and worrying about hurting someone doesn't make me a boy scout."
"Underestimating people is a very risky habit," Cassy warns, springing up from the couch. "Anyway I totally have to get ready for my extra fencing practise. You boys play nice or if you /must/ argue let me know and I'll send someone to find you a ruler."
"We can argue," Tobias tells Cassy. "Not like we could ever come to blows," he points out. "And Walter, you're a boy scout. Ask pretty much anyone here."
Walter rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He grabs his textbook. "I'm going to go and try and find somewhere quieter to study."
"I just meant with a ruler you could just see who was bigger and be done with it," Cassy teases, flicking to the next page as she skips towards the exit. "Anyway I'll cya both later, we can put the idea to a group vote and then get teacher opinions regarding safety measures."
"See ya Walter, hope you're enjoying that CD!" Tobias calls out after the departing boy. "Next time you run into me, I'll let you hold onto Lombardi," he calls out to Cassy before relaxing with his notebook, making more scribbles.
"I think he was just ignoring that comment, Cassy," Walter says. He gives a nod to Tobias. "I'll give you back the CD too," he says. "Bye," he says, giving a wave as he heads out the other door.
=XS= Kitchen - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
A relic of Victorian times, this kitchen is vast, with more than one oven and several stainless steel work surfaces taking the space once claimed by coal hoppers, cooking hearths and cast-iron stoves. Walls still done in period plaster and tile, and the floor still the original fieldstone, fluorescent lights have been installed overhead to bring the lighting up to modern level. At meal times, kitchen workers scurry to and fro with pans and food and various other sundry items, under the watchful eye of the aging head cook, but once past, order is restored, with copper-bottomed pans hanging above the kitchen island, and a tray of cold snacks left out for foraging students and staff alike. Folding wood doors screen off a pantry capable of holding food for an large household's weekly meals -- or three days' worth of teenager food.
Tim is not exactly a student known for his neatness and cleanliness. Still, even his haphazard appearance isn't usually this bad. Sweat dripping down his face, hands and face stained with potting soil, and a few good smears across his clothing to match. On the bright side he doesn't smell that bad for the appearance. To add another bit of curiosity to the boy today, as he waddles into the kitchen with a slight limp on his right side, he doesn't head straight for the food. This time he heads for the sink.
Lurking in the kitchen, looking rather guilty is a certian teenage red head. "Hey Tim," she declares, trying to quickly brush the sugar off her fingers. "What'cha up to?"
"Taking a quick break. You should see some of the new flowers we're planting in there, they are really neat looking." Tim answers back with some excitement in his voice. Reaching up and over the sink to turn it on, he puts his elbows over the side and begins to rinse the worst of the dirt from his fingers. "There is the one as tall as I am that kinda looks like a big pink tongue."
Cassy hops off the chair, discreetly sliding a large jar of sugar away. "Gardening? Uhm awesome I guess," she says with a shrug. "I'm not really a flower girl, they're just not cool enough."
The jar catches the boy's attention and he isn't very good at hiding it. His eyes lock onto it and he leans back and to the side as it slides. For now at least he doesn't say anything about it, but his face is slathered in curiosity. "Well... no flowers, huh? What /would/ be cool enough?" He asks jerking a sheet of paper towel off to finish off washing his hands.
Cassy whistles innocently as the jar slides further away from her. "What would be cool? Like hitting the mall to buy stuff or maybe hanging out with a bunch of cute boys. Or maybe cute girls I can't decide which I'd prefer at the minute."
"Well..." Tim begins, but there is some reservation in his voice as he does. A quiet respectful 'Library' voice. The whistling does not help his curious face, though, and his brow quirks even more. "You might be able to do that. Try and tag along some of the kids going out for last minute 'Mother's Day' presents." Stepping back from the sink, Tim slings some of the water off his hands and balls up the towel. His attention now turns towards the fridge.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'd rather not be anywhere near anyone involved in /that/ day," Cassy says sullenly.
"Yeah-" Tim apologizing, mirroring her tone. "Me neither. Sorry." The sudden need of a subject change and building curiosity defeat the boy's tact, and he asks. "So... uhm... are you cooking something? I promise I wont ask for any."
Cassy coughs. "Nope I was just eating sugar because I'm all out of candy and I haven't tracked down where Mira has hidden hers this time."
"The potted plant just inside the boy's hallway, near Tobias's room." Tim offers after some consideration, and there is still a small tone of apology in his words.. "Not one of her's, one of mine. Being without candy is inhuman."
"Nah look I'll be fine and it's just not the same as stealing Mira's candy. Or at least I will be after I brush my teeth about fifty times to make up for my choice of snacks," Cassy promises, brushing the last of the sugar off. "So what've you been doing lately Tim? Just gardening? I've been kinda busy with my club activities so I'm way out the loop."
"Nothing really, been volunteering at Dr. Grey's clinic in town for a couple of days. Getting ready for the summer." Tim explains as the fridge is opened and milk is taken out. "Trying to figure out what.. Oh! Owe!" The boy's limp is exaggerated as he closes the fridge's door and tries to hop one footed towards the counter and a seat. To his merit, he doesn't drop the jug of milk on his way!
Cassy glances up. "Whatever it was I'm totally not to blame," she declares. "I bet it was Walter putting tacks on the floor to try and trap unwary victims."
"It's Walter's fault." Tim agrees, though he's mostly joking between painful winces as he pulls the offending foot up and starts to pry his shoe off. "He's the one that made me get new shoes." There is... blood. Not a lot of it, but as he yanks the shoe off completely there is a black shard of plastic sticking out of his arch, the soaking red beginning to seep into his sock. "What...huh?"
"How the hell did you manage that?" Cassy wonders, skipping briskly for the first aid kit. "I mean like getting your shoe on with sharp stuff in takes skill. You're totally lucky Doctor Grey made me take a first aid course, because otherwise you'd be explaining bloody footprints to the cleaners."
"I don't know, something just kinda... 'popped' when I stepped down." Tim tries to explain just as confused. He places his fingers on the shard and with a good yank... pulls it out. That probably should have hurt a lot, but at this point Tim's face just remains blank to it. It went most of an inch in from the looks of it. "And that wouldn't be the strangest thing they've had to clean up, and you know it."
"One chicken joke and I fetch the salt," Cassy warns, waving a bundle of bandages at Tim. "Maybe someone was shoplifting and they hid stuff in your shoe?" With supprising efficiency the telekinetic teen begins preparing a suitably dressing for Tim's foot. "Best go with a bandage thing rather than a band-aid, less chance of it falling off when you're walking about."
Tim holds up the hand that still has the shard in it and crosses his heart with the other, mocking a good dose of fear in his eyes when he does. "Promise, no chicken jokes." Pulling the part white, part red sock off, the wound isn't too horribly bad, just a good slice in the foot where the piece of plastic used to be. The boy balls up the sock to hold away the bleeding while he waits for the girl with some know-how to finish the bandage. "Well, that explains why these shoes were so horrible, then. But... how were they gonna get it back outa my shoe?" Tim is not the brightest bulb right now.
"Try take a look and see what it was?" Cassy suggests, putting on the bandage. "Man why does everything in the medkit look so boring? Not a single skull and crossbone band-aid or bright pink bandage in sight."
Not much blood in the shoe. Just a few drops. But there is something jutting up out of the soles of his shoe. A few more plastic shards that at one time made up a very very thin plastic box. With a curious face, Tim puts down the piece in his one hand and reaches down into his shoe in his lap and pulls on the plastic there until the box comes out. There are some electronics inside and a long wire coming out one end of it that just keeps coming out of the shoe as he pulls. There is some kinda... microphone in the side of it. "They tried to steal... an MP3 player?" Tim guesses.
"Not with wiring like that it isn't," Cassy corrects, pausing to stare at the gadget. "Looks kinda familiar though, like something off the spy gear websites I've been looking on. The wire's probably for sending out signals... Shit Tim is it still working?"
"I don't know!" Tim answers quickly and slightly panicked at the idea, holding the bug out for Cassy to take. As he holds it there, his face is wide eyed, as if he expects thing thing to explode at any moment. "How... how can you tell?"
Cassy wraps an extra layer of microporous tape over the bandage, then pushes the medkits contents back in the box. "Let's see," she murmurs, accepting the little device. After a few moments of prodding she declares "The insides are cracked, so I'd guess you killed it. You're /so/ lucky you haven't been dieting!"
"Well, it fought back." Tim protest after a moment of goldfishing. An odd need to defend himself after the diet remark. "Thanks for the help, Cassy." he offers with a nod towards the bandage. "What kinda thing do you think it is? A camera or something?" Nope, not the brightest bulb at all.
"In your shoe?" Cassy points out with an impish grin. "More likely it's a microphone, how long did you say you'd had these shoes for?"
And the boy's mouth goldfishes again, his cheeks turning slightly red in embarrassment. "Microphone... yeah." He agrees before he thinks about how long he's had 'em. "A, uhm, about a week I guess. Got 'em just after Walter told me... oh! That weird guy that was following us. There was this guy out front and Walter thought he had a camera." He isn't completely past putting 2 and 2 together.
"Okaaaaaaaaaaay, Tim you did warn people about this right?" Cassy asks cautiously. "Because it seems like you've got a stalker who has recordings of your entire life, plus stuff from inside a clinic. I mean I'm guessing Doctor Grey could get in serious trouble if confidential information about people got leaked...."
Tim nods furiously, panic, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes with every word Cassy says. "Y-yeah, we told 'em when we got back to the school. Turned right around, but I haven't seen him since then." Tim puts the shoe down very carefully, raising his hand cautiously against it. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong, I don't wanna get her in trouble!"
Cassy bounces gleefully. "I bet this means we get to sweep the mansion for bugs!"
"There are more of 'em, you think?" Tim asks wide eyed as he begins to slide down off the seat. He isn't anywhere near as excited about the idea.
"Probably," Cassy admits. "Unless they're spying on you specifically. It could also be tracking your movements ready for a kidnapping." She coughs. "I am /totally/ not helping am I? Go speak with Doctor Grey like totally soon and show her the gadget thingy and try think of anything damaging they could have overheard. Like medical stuff or secret school business."
"Yeah... Dr. Grey... yeah." Alright, coherency is leaving Tim at this point. He stuffs the spy thing back inside his shoe and holds it very carefully, still not entirely convinced that it wont spew poison gas. "And... Walter... he better search his shoes too!" Tim heads for the exit.
"Just remember to clean the cut out if you're going to be walking about without socks!" Cassy shouts after Tim. "I am /so/ not getting the blame if you end up with infected feet." She huffs and begins cleaning the kitchen of bloody marks before it somehow leads to her ending up in detention.