View source for Logs:I am a hearth of spiders these days: a nest of trying.

{{ Logs
| cast = [[Nahida]], [[Natsumi]], [[Roscoe]]
| summary = "See? High school transactional, too."
| gamedate = 2024-04-27
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = Limón, Ada. "Dead Stars". 5.
| location = <XAV> [[Grounds]] - Xs Grounds
| categories = XAV Grounds, Nahida, Natsumi, Roscoe, Mutants, X-Kids
| log = 

Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse.

The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous.

After the bustle of the last couple days, the chaos of this morning, the front lawn being back to its ''regular'' levels of use seems strikingly quiet. There's a few kids playing frisbee a ways away from the school, a couple sunning in the late-afternoon warmth, a small cluster of kids having their weekly roleplaying session under a tree. The tents have been dismantled and put away, the igloo is rapidly dwindling in size, someone's small scruffy mutt is taking a nap in the shade of a hut someone erected out of the earth. There's still a XLF banner hanging from the bottom of the treehouse, and from where Natsumi (dressed colorful in wide-legged red flood pants, a loose-gauge rainbow knit sweater, bright gold doc-marten-style boots, colorfully mismatched beaded earrings) is standing and peering up at it, the banner and the lingering natural-unnatural shelters are the only real signs of the energetic encampment that had been here.

At least, until she turns ''around'' to face the mansion again. Several of the front windows have been stopgap closed with plastic sheeting (one sheet of which has already grown a circle-A graffiti; another a few windows down has grown a large pointy-S.) Natsumi's brows as scrunching as she peers at one slightly fluttery corner of plastic, hands wringing absently together in front of her as she stares at the Cool S like perhaps, today, it might reveal its secrets.

Nahida has probably not been up long, too wired to ''immediately'' crash upon returning from the-neighborhood-formerly-known-as-Freaktown. She's had time to pray and to grab a bottle of strawberry kefir from the kitchen before making her way out to the front porch. She's kind of ''unintentionally'' vaguely matching Natsumi, in a red sleeveless jumpsuit over a fluttery-sleeved rainbowy top, headscarf in layers of black and red today. She's opened her yogurt drink -- or the cap at least, and is entirely failing at getting off the plastic seal beneath. Its pull tab tears off in her hands, the rest of the seal still in place. This is apparently too much difficulty now so she just recaps the drink and follows New Girl's gaze towards the windows. "Were you here for that?"

''Thump''. The front door has ''probably'' seen its share of abuse today and it has just suffered the additional indignity of being simply walked into, but a moment later it opens up. Roscoe has probably been up for a while, but he's still a little damp from an early-evening shower, his too-big tee clinging wetly to his back; he is ''not'' matching with these girls at all, his shorts are a very boring black with white side stripes. "Yo." This is a sort of unexuberant greeting by his standards but after a moment he gathers up some more enthusiasm at the prospect of Making Introductions: "Ay, did you two met each other yet?"

Natsumi darts a look to Nahida, at first ''slightly'' suspicious but rapidly warming as she considers Nahida's outfit. "N... I mean, yeah, but not like. I didn't --" She flutters a hand towards the plasticky sheeting. "I'd just ''come'' from Freaktown and I don't think I really ''got'' the encampment thing and then next thing I knew, well. You know." Her eyes have widened, lips pointed in a Significant Look towards the broken windows. She startles quick and twitchy when the door thumps but soon enough is breaking into a wider smile. "Roscoe! Oh -- oh, no. Are you friends?" This is just a little hopeful.

Nahida is giving Roscoe a sympathetic wince after he successfully emerges from the door. She nods, moving forward so she's somewhat less In Front Of the doorway, going to much more conveniently take a seat in the middle of the stairs. "We haven't met. What a way to be greeted at this school, though. I'm sorry about your..." She trails off a ''little'' uncertainly here, and finishes a little awkwardly: "Freaktown." She is tapping at the side of her kefir bottle and looking up at Roscoe. "Are ''you'' friends?" is not actually an answer. She sounds a little amused. "How do you so quickly know everyone?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about Freaktown too." ''Are'' they friends? Roscoe squints in consideration at Nahida, then at Natsumi, before he graciously decides, "''Sure''." He gives Nahida a toothy, dimpled grin -- "Same way I know ''you''," is probably not as much of a non-answer as it sounds.

"Oh-h-h." Natsumi is peering just a little closer at Nahida, but it's Roscoe she's ''asking'': "Is she one of the Sixteen, too? I was at Varela. It was -- smaller." She's trailing a little closer to the stairs, leaning up against the railing at their bottom. "How long have you guys been here? Are the cops going to come destroy ''this'' place because it seems ''kind'' of wild it exists."

"''Oh''," echoed just a moment after Natsumi. Nahida does answer for herself, at least -- "Yes, I was one of those. ''This'' riot was not our doing though." This sounds more like a mild disappointment than a defense. "You know, just one year back I would have never believed how much you can get done through a proper rioting. I thought Sriyani was just full of it with that stuff." She twists at the cap of her bottle and then twists it back, tighter. "I have been since the year-start. I'm sure the cops will destroy it ''eventually'', but right now they seem very busy."

Roscoe bobs his head in a nod, tilting his feet up onto the sides of his shoes, his hands wringing in front of him -- "A riot can be many things," he says sagely, though then he clarifies, "I kinda skipped this riot though, lol." He bites his lip, only to release it again to add, "I been here six months. I --" he perhaps ''didn't'' think the cops were going to come destroy this place, for he shuts his mouth again and gives Nahida a startled sideways look. "Yeah, ''real'' busy," he says. "I'm more worried it's gonna just destroy ''itself'', did you hear we might be going to ''quadruple'' rooms?"

Natsumi lifts a hand to hide the small laugh that is welling up at these Rioting Thoughts, but this is immediately quelled by a quick and worried frown. She's looking over her shoulder reflexively like maybe police will be Right Here, Right Now, and tries not to look ''too'' visibly relieved when obviously they are not. "Wait do you really. I mean -- this isn't like, an ''illegal'' mutant school, is it? I don't want..." But this worry is ''swiftly'' eclipsed by the starker, more immediate horror: "I'm going to have to share with ''three'' people?"

"You maybe have not been told yet about the vigilante team operating out of the basement," Nahida says, a ''little'' sympathetic but mostly kind of dry. "The school is quite legitimate I'm sure. ''Very'' respectable for college even. The terrorism is less so, I would not mention them on any applications." A small pensive frown. "Or mention them just, ever. Outside of here." She is soon moving on to the same dismal thought: "I only just got told we are getting a new roommate. Three will already be terrible, ''four'' is too much. How long do you think before a rioting happens just over room assignments?"

"Sheesh, you'll scare her," Roscoe says, now flumping back against the porch railing and pressing at his eyes with both hands. "But ''yeah'' we s'posed to keep that under wraps. I think I lie to my parents ''more'' than I did before Prometheus." He wrinkles his nose in not ''quite'' a smile, tucking his teeth down over his lip. "Maybe now everyone got a taste for rioting there's gonna be a riot every week," he says. "They're gonna build new dorms, though, so we only gotta hang on for maybe... six months? A year?" He says this like this is not long at all.

"Oh if you just don't talk to them that solves a ''lot'' of problems," Natsumi is suggesting as though this is a totally viable Parent Solution. She is very much looking like she isn't ''quite'' sure whether this talk of Basement Terrorists is true or New Kid Hazing. She is glancing in a faint concern towards the broken windows again, but these safety threats still can't eclipse the more important current concerns: "I have two but I haven't met them yet," she's confiding in the others, "but kids have been telling me that one of them is, like," her voice has dropped to a confidential hush: "that snake girl who ''mind controlled'' her ''brother'' this morning? Do you guys know if she's, like." She hesitates slightly uncertainly before finishing, "safe?"

"I should maybe take up this strategy," Nahida is saying with a small wince to Roscoe, "I tell my parents too much and now they are ''eternally'' -- " Eternally what? She's ''very'' derailed by Natsumi's revelation, looking quick to the new girl with entirely new appraisal. "Many people here are dangerous. In ''theory'' this school is meant to help be responsible with that." The skepticism is very clear in her tone, though. "Anyway that's my roommate. Our roommate. I'm Nahida and just so you know I get up ''very'' early for prayers. I will get you nice ear muffs if you are easily woke." She offers a smile, small and a little apologetic. "Sorry things have been mad. There aren't ''usually'' riots here." And, after an uncomfortable pause, "and Naomi doesn't ''usually'' use her thing on her friends."

Roscoe bites his lip a little harder -- "I like my parents," he says, ''kind'' of defensively. He swivels to peer down at Nahida on the stairs -- "Aren't ''you'' --" he is asking, just as Nahida answers this question; he drums his fingers consideringly on the railing, his face pinching inward in a frown. "Maybe the riot freaked her out," might have been meant defensively too, but it's said almost like a question. "She's real ''bitchy'' sometimes but I always thought just in a normal girl way."

"Oh," says Natsumi, like she hasn't considered the possibility of Liking One's Parents. Her face scrunches up. Stays scrunched in consideration of Riot. "It was ''pret''ty freaky. People were like --" She pauses, but then shrugs. "But it wasn't like a ''prison'' riot, you know? Not like -- I mean nobody was attacking ''each other'' until -- I mean, what I heard, she ''made'' them attack the Headmaster. And if she did that to her ''brother'', like." She pauses, and sounds almost ''apologetic'' for her admission: "There was just, like, a lot of that stuff at Varela and I kind of hoped to not. That. Here. You know?" It's only as an afterthought that she's considering Nahida right ''back''. "I sleep pretty sound. Um. I'm Natsumi. Would you," this now seems directed to ''both'' the others, "mind kind of helping me figure out how stuff works here? I ''feel'' like maybe jail etiquette doesn't, um, translate."

Nahida's brows arch. "Please. We're doing feminism now. Being a," her voice drops slightly on, "b word, is for any gender." She's gotten just slightly tenser until Natsumi says she sleeps sound, at which point she eases off. She uncaps her kefir, trying again at the plastic seal but finally giving up on peeling and removing a long pin from the folds of her scarf to jab-and-wiggle it at the seal until it's torn enough to remove the rest of the way. "I don't think they ''succeeded'' in attacking the Professor, he's much stronger in the brains than most. But," she's saying to Roscoe with a small wince, "it ''was'' I think pretty upsetting for Lael and Avi. Not very attack-and-dethrone-Professor-X boys. -- I think," she adds after a sip of kefir, "you don't need to be guilty if you're not so keen on people raping your mind. Normal thing to not want." Another small pause. "I will help, but Roscoe is much better for helping acclimate to overwhelming new situations."

Roscoe droops lower against the railing, folding his hands on the wood and propping his chin against them. "Varela sounds like hell," he says, though his voice sounds less sympathetic than just ''glum''. He glances aside at Nahida, then back to Natsumi, perking up again -- "''I'' think there's enough of us here now we should just make these rich kids follow our rules but, I ''guess''. Unless you really started throwing your weight around in Varela I think it's like, the same strategy. Don't snitch, don't touch anything that isn't yours, be respectful, mind your own business. Helps if you can get a hustle going like Nahida does but you're not on the hook for buying your own toothpaste anymore. They don't count us every waking second so you can get away with a ''lot''." He gnaws on his lower lip and adds, "Most people just don't get what it's ''like'' coming out of those places, especially when you were in for a ''while'', but there's enough who do."

"Okay but like, what's the mutant prep school hustle look like? Do you give style tips because you ''totally'' could and I have seen a person or two who could use it. Bad." Natsumi is considering Nahida with a solid appreciation, but then looks back to Roscoe to assure him readily, "And I kept my head down in Varela. Tried to make more friends than enemies. Mostly succeeded. I'm ''real'' glad to already have a friend here." She plucks lightly at the sleeve of her sweater, gives a small shrug and a hopeful peek at Nahida. "Maybe if I play my cards right, two?"

Nahida laughs at this, and shakes her head. "Style is personal. But I ''do'' help people with their budgeting." She gives Natsumi a contemplative look, then shifts to pluck her wallet out of a pocket. She pulls a fifty from it, holding it up between two fingers -- then, with a small shift of fingertips, it has splayed out into three bills. She tucks her money back away, holding one of the bills up to Natsumi. "Small welcome to school present. Don't try and stash it, it will disappear within a month or so. If you need -- ''most'' anything I can get my hands on, and don't need it ''forever'', I can get it for you cheap." The other bill she's offering with a lift of brows to Roscoe. ''Maybe'' he's just here at the Right Place, Right Time, but. "Sriyani told me you really kept them safe this morning." Her voice is casual, but there's a frank gratitude -- if brief -- in the look she shoots him. It's gone with her next swig of kefir. She wobbles her head noncommittally at Natsumi. "If you play your cards right."

Roscoe's eyes are ''widewide'' at this unexpected gift, his head lifting up off his hands, but he takes the fifty without question. "Yooo," he says. "Sriyani full of shit, ''they'' kept us safe this morning. And Quentin. Plus you shoulda ''seen'' them pop off on Summers, ''both'' of them. But --" since the fifty has already disappeared -- "I'mma need ''so'' much weed about this one, my parents are gonna kill me for real." He settles his head back down on his hands, but to Natsumi, "See? High school transactional, too."

Natsumi's eyes, too, have gone biiig, and the fifty vanishes swift somewhere in her loose-fit clothing. "''One'' good thing about prison life," they're saying with a brighter cheer, "I've got ''real'' good at cards."
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