Logs:Confirmation Bias

Confirmation Bias
Dramatis Personae Marinov, Elias Tasha, Tessa	2020-08-08 "He has a billionaire working as one of the teachers. Does that sound... normal?" (Part of Final Boss: Xavier TP.)
Location <PLC> Conversation Room - Midtown East
This is the heart of the Pure Life Center, an expansive living room most notable for the conversation pit in the middle, filled with ovoid cushions in bright primary colors. A more traditional set of couches in red bracket a flatscreen television in one corner, and another set in blue is arranged around a little library with both books and board games. An entire wall of windows, including a pair of glass french doors, let in ample light, and the balcony beyond them affords a spectacular view southward while also providing smokers an outlet at the retreat. "So you can imagine how excited I am to get back to work here." International fashion designer Elias Covey concludes, hands gently griping the head of his cane that is positioned in front of his knees. He is seated on one of the couches near the window, his gaze returning to his companion, slate blue eyes crinkled with crows feet, that and the salt and pepper hair on his head being the only things showing his age. His build is a little heftier than the pictures that came off the Milan runway last year, but he's far from the athletic cut he used to sport back before his tragic accident. He leans back into the cushion, ceding the conversation to the younger person he is meeting with, allowing Marinov to take over, if wanted. He is dressed in a black short sleeved button down over dark jeans, his shoes representing more 'style' than the rest of his outfit, classy, black, but with a functional grip to the bottom, a nod to the limp he's still working out. "I can only hope that the incident at the concert hasn't put too much of a damper on your desire to keep creating." Marinov looks down to their sketching tablet is on their lap in front of them, where they have some of the designs that they came up with stored, a pair of special reading glasses made to fit properly to their face resting on their nose. "I'm more worried about whether the people who were there, who made it out, are gonna have hesitation getting back to their career. I've destroyed enough of my own clothing to understand that style is transient." They are wearing a a lacy white top, almost transparent so their fur patterning is visible underneath, with a strap of fabric along their chest. The collar and sleeves of the top end with frills, still in the same light fabric. Their sandy coloured high-waisted pants are tailored well to their proportions and match closely the colour of their fur that is not covered in rosettes. Their ears perk up brightly and they add, "I'm also glad you're back, though! Xavier's is... eh. They want me to fall in line and be like, a model student. I'm not really good at a lot of academic stuff, but they act like I gotta be some kind of clear a pretty unfair bar, like I'm supposed get a million PhDs to prove I'm worth anything. I'm glad that I can get more support in the things I'm good at, that I want to do, and I appreciate you giving me the time to learn." The felinoid youth puffs up their chest a bit, "I'm never gonna be the Hank McCoy they seem to want me to be, but maybe with your help, I can totally be a first rate Taylor Marinov!" One of the doors opens; the brunette who walks in is dressed for working out, black and pink capri leggings, cross trainers, a pink and black athletic tank, hair up in a high ponytail. "Hello hello!" Tasha's smile is bright, warm. "Caught up? Productive meeting? Sorry to interrupt, I just need to --" She's swooping through, snagging a sleek rose-gold Lululemon water bottle from where it's been forgotten on a nearby table. She wiggles the bottle lightly in indication of her Errand. Though unfamiliar to Marinov (except perhaps from interviews, advertisements) there's something immediately -- sincere about her warm spill of words, a compelling tug that makes them just-so-much more easily internalized. "I caught some of your work at that last show of yours -- at the art collective? Brilliant, by the way, not that you need me to tell you. Fingers crossed that by next year -- well, do you have plans to do it again? Just so important, what you're bringing to the community." Her brows pinch slightly. "I do hope they appreciate that at Xavier's. In my time," her voice drops just-a-hint lower, conspiratorial, "they still had a smidge to go in terms of --" Her bottle waves again, vague, this time. "Support." There's a visible twitch in the corner of one of Eli's eyes when Taylor mentions their tension with the school. He smiles uncomfortably and resettles the way he's sitting. "I ... suppose that there is something that one could say -- given that they are a school and how pushing academics is what they are supposed to do," he offers quietly to start, gaze growing distant as he glances across the large room. "But conforming is... making you into someone that you're not..." Elias stops speaking when Tasha makes her entrance, partially because of his desire for distraction and partially because she seems so intent on interrupting. "Oh, yes. We're just finishing up. Taylor, this is Tasha. We were in the same year at Xavier's." Marinov's attention snaps towards the door when it is open, slight twitches in their muscles as if they are coiling to spring into action. They relax, though, upon seeing Tasha's warm appearance. Their eyes close momentarily and they reply to mirror the cheer, "Oh! Thanks for saying so, yeah, I wanted to do it again this year but... we pushed it out 'til next year. And yeah, I dunno, the support I got from Xavier's was weird. Conditional on my grades the first year I ran it." They roll their eyes at such an idea! "But that's Xavier's for you. I guess you both know that first hand, huh? Conforming is kind of their whole deal." "Getting things back to normal after Hurricane Rona is gonna be a long climb. After what you've accomplished so far though I have no doubt next year will be even better." Tasha's smile is bright; she takes a quick gulp from her water bottle. The smile soon shifts into a faint -- concerned -- frown. "I'm -- sorry to hear they're still on that. Xavier -- does tend to push that line a little hard, doesn't he?" Here, too, there's an extra weight to her words, a stronger certainty than the passing concern should warrant -- yes, of course, he does. Her eyes flick to Eli, brief and uncertain. "Has it been like that your whole time there?" "Conditional on grades, maybe, but this isn't some hobby that you reward. They should let you really focus on what you want and need. Hell, when i was there, half of the students didn't know what they wanted to be or do - they were feeling lucky to exist." Elias' hand reaches around behind his neck and scuffs at the short hairs back there, his mood lowering a bit. He glances over at Tasha catching her attention before shaking his head. He looks at Marinov, holding their gaze. "They should reward and support you for having a goal." "Yeah, I wanted to make it a really something this year, but I gotta put that energy forward to the next year. Hopefully dazzle everyone!" says Marinov proudly. They nod to Tasha slightly when asked about Xavier pushing that line, before they nod again with more firmness, more conviction. "Yeah. I just don't think... fitting in and conforming is ever gonna be my strong suit. But that's the line." They look back to Elias to listen to him, their ears swivelling over and their eyes focused on him above the reading glasses. "I think back then they might not have thought my goal was... realistic. And that it'd be more realistic to become..." They squint their eyes and then turn their gaze downwards a bit and shrugs as they cannot figure out how to finish the statement. "What they want you to become?" Tessa Yates' voice is low and quiet; sort of subdued. The short russet woman's hair is pulled back in a blanket of heavy, black curls -- some tight as a spring and as thick as a thumb. She's clad in a loose pastel-green tee-shirt that's been turned inside out; the 'PURE LIFE' logo is inverted and barely visible. Under that... grey sweat-slacks. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, by the looks of it -- instead, she was just finishing up her daily exercise ritual. But there's something in the woman's expression, now -- locked on Marinov. Something sharp. Forceful. Focused. As she walks toward the group, her presence feels like a narrowing spotlight directed at Marinov with razor-sharp intensity. She has a pink towel slung over her left shoulder, a half-finished water-bottle in her right hand. "Xavier has a way of doing that. Making you see things his way. Or... so I've heard," she adds. A hint of self-depreciating amusement. The faintest flutter of pink darkens Tasha's lightly-freckled cheeks. She glances to Tessa and then her eyes lower, only briefly, neatly manicured nails tapping against her water bottle. "It sounds," she says with a sympathetic wince, the idea deepening past pre-existing discontent in Marinov's mind, "like they're kind of controlling. Maybe not the best environment to really flourish in if they're molding you into someone else." Eli lets out a sigh and shakes his head again. "And may I present Tessa. Tessa, this is Taylor - an up and coming designer who knows who they are enough to not be easily molded." He chuckles a little and shifts his weight in his seat, the position causing a little trouble as his muscles begin to resist being stationary. "I do worry about how creative you can be under that pressure. How much time do you have left? I mean, when do you graduate, if you're aiming for that and all." "Uh?" says Marinov when Tessa appears, "Yeah, I guess. What they want me to become... I'm not really sure what that is. Mostly the jobs I see people like-" They gesture towards themselves, generally. "Has been like, custodial. At Xavier's. Unless they're some kinda ultra genius." Their expression turns thoughtful, a bit more intense as they look down towards their tablet. "Yeah. Controlling. Now that you mention it, that seems right... I don't really have a lot of options, but I kinda think. Yeah. It isn't helping me flourish. I only have... I guess until the end of the fall semester. My grad got pushed back." They glance around at the other three, and their ears redden slightly, "Uh. But I shouldn't be. Boring you with like. Angsty teenage bullshit. I'm sure you're all. Busy." Tessa doesn't look away from Marinov. There's a certain fierce focus to the way she's locked in on the teenager. At least... up until their ears redden. Suddenly, it seems to occur to Tessa that she's maybe making things a little tense. She takes a step back, her face a little flustered, deliberately looking away. "No, no, it's -- fine." She pops the top off that bottle of water and takes a swig. "Sorry, just... I -- we," she corrects herself, "all went there, and... yeah. 'Controlling'. You ever get the feeling like... you're a different person outside the campus, than when you're actually there?" Walnut-brown eyes flick to Tasha, then to Elias -- then back to her water-bottle. Another swig. Tasha bites down on her lip, looking to Tessa with a brief -- contemplative -- concern. She takes a breath, gives a shake of her head and a half-smile to Marinov. "Oh, no, you aren't being a bother at all. We just -- we had our own, um." Her free hand turns upwward, flutters lightly as if grasping for something just at the tip of her tongue. "Our own set of problems while we were there and I guess -- I was kind of hoping it had improved but." Both hands grasp her bottle, now, her tone more serious and the sense of truth of her words hitting more deeply. "If these patterns are continuing all this time -- is that environment really safe for you all? I don't think it is. It can't be, not with such a powerful telepath invested in making you --" Her shoulders sink. Just a fraction, but it looks to weigh down her previously cheerful expression still more. "Someone else." "Yeah, it's not like you're telling us anything new. Where else can you vent about that place than with alumni?" Eli work out the discomfort in his lower back as he adjusts his position again. "Just pretend we graduated last year as opposed to a while ago." All of the furtive glances between the others causes Eli to raise his eyebrows before he switches gears. "I mean, that's great. Just a hand full of months and then you're done! Never have to deal with it again. I mean, you just need that piece of paper, right?" His tone lets on that he doesn't really believe this cheerfulness either. "Like a different person? Yeah, I mean, I like to go out to Chimaera or to Evolve and it feels sorta... lighter? More fun, less tense," says Marinov. Their brow remains slightly tense as they seem to be thinking this all over. "Wait, you don't think... do you think Xavier would do that? Like... mess with my head like that? That's like the basics of the mutant ethics stuff we had to go over-" Their speaking slows down as the following words come out a bit heavier, a bit slower. "-at his school. Yeah... maybe. Maybe you're right, that it's not actually safe there? I just assumed- but yeah, he is. A powerful man. In authority. And... I think that there are some differences like. Between school and being in the city. Sometimes, I..." They start to pick lightly at their teeth with their claw as they trail off, their tail flicking with agitation and their ears turn back. Twitches like electric shocks move across their back and shoulders. "Yeah. Only a hand full of months." Tessa's eyes close as the conversation continues. She fusses with the cap on top of the bottle of water, just listening. Breathing, even and slow. She's not facing Marinov -- but when they speak, she starts gnawing away at her bottom lip, teeth tapping together to tug at a flake of dead skin. "It wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that," she says, her tone... very flat. Very soft. Her eyes re-open, centering squarely on Marinov. "A powerful telepath who brings children with powers to a place where he can watch them... groom them. And after they graduate...? The ones he finds most useful somehow just happen to stick around. Work for him. Get sent out on missions." Again, she gnaws on that bottom lip. "He has a billionaire working as one of the teachers. Does that sound... normal?" Tasha's hands have closed tighter around her bottle, now, her eyes just a little bit wider as Marinov speaks. She moves closer to Tessa, rests a hand on the other woman's shoulder in a brief, gentle squeeze. "I'm so sorry." Her voice is quiet. "We should have listened earlier -- should have done something earlier. I thought --" The breath she pulls in is firm. Determined. "It doesn't matter what I thought. We can listen now. We can do something now. Xavier is still tampering with those kids and we can --" She looks to Marinov suddenly, expression resolute. "He -- erased some of our memories. A long time ago. We've been trying to piece things back together -- Tessa understood before any of us. But he's still messing with people, controlling people, we should make sure they know. Going up against a man like that, though..." Her head shakes, slow. "Do you -- have anyone here who's -- safe? Who he can't reach, who could -- help you figure out --" Her fingers wiggle towards her own temple. "Going up against Xavier isn't something we can really... talk about. It's really daunting, but..." Eli glances over at the other two, giving them a resolute nod. "But it's necessary." "He... erased some of your memories?" says Marinov. They look up towards Tasha, their pupils are starting to dilate with increasing anxiety. "Sometimes when I am on campus. There are... holes? Like, I don't have the best brain or anything, but I can keep track of time. And sometimes no matter how hard I try, I just can't remember. Or there's something off in my memory. I just thought it was like. I'm not the smartest kid in school or anything? But. Oh fuck." They shake their head, the fur on their neck starting to stand up on end, their voice a bit more breathy. "It never happens like that when I am out, especially not out in the city, further out. He- he must be fucking with me. Fucking with my head. Why would-" They look up to Tasha and say, still breathier, "Someone who he can't reach? I... I don't know if I can trust myself to..." They start to pant without saying any more. Tessa sets the water bottle down, sinking into a crouch besides Marinov. There's something very deliberate about the tone of her voice; somehow, it's even flatter than before. A slow, gentle monotone: "You're safe, here. This place is safe. Breathe." Her eyes drift to Tasha; she's always had a way of... calming people down with words. Nevertheless... "We can figure this out." Her lips thin out into a tight, joyless smile. "Do you have a safe place you can stay? I'm sure Tasha can..." The words drift off as her eyes move back to Tasha; she lets the other woman finish the thought. "This," Tasha says with a sweep of her hand towards the building around them, "is my place, it's not being used for much right now. It's safe here." This is said with certainty. "If you don't feel comfortable going back, you're welcome to a dorm while we figure this out. We'll get to the bottom of this. We won't let him keep doing to you all what he did to us."