Difference between revisions of "Logs:Push/Shove"

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{{ Logs
 
{{ Logs
| cast = [[Gaétan]], [[Harmony]], [[Kyinha]], [[Rhiannon]]
+
| cast = [[Gaétan]], [[Harm]], [[Kyinha]], [[Rhiannon]]
 
| summary = "Hey, what was that about actions having consequences, again?" (CW: Bullying, homophobic slurs, mild violence.)
 
| summary = "Hey, what was that about actions having consequences, again?" (CW: Bullying, homophobic slurs, mild violence.)
 
| gamedate = 2019-04-10
 
| gamedate = 2019-04-10
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| subtitle =  
 
| subtitle =  
 
| location = Xavier's School - Grounds
 
| location = Xavier's School - Grounds
| categories = XS Grounds, Gaétan, Harmony, Kyinha, Rhiannon, Xavier's, Mutants
+
| categories = XS Grounds, Gaétan, Harm, Kyinha, Rhiannon, Xavier's, Mutants
 
| 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.
 
| 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.
  

Latest revision as of 10:39, 24 July 2020

Push/Shove
Dramatis Personae

Gaétan, Harm, Kyinha, Rhiannon

2019-04-10


"Hey, what was that about actions having consequences, again?" (CW: Bullying, homophobic slurs, mild violence.)

Location

Xavier's School - Grounds


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.

It's a bright and sunny afternoon, and springtime is really laying it on rather thick today. Here between the properly manicured gardens and the trimmed and lined playing fields, dogwoods and magnolias and some more determined cherries are still shedding their petals in slow drifts of pink and white that flutter down around the students scattered among the grass below.

Gaétan has ensconced himself beneath a larger pear with his backpack, a notebook, a thermos, and his bass guitar. Most of these things are untouched, except for the thermos, held in one hand; he's sipping from it at long intervals. Mostly, though, he's watching a bright yellow goldfinch hopping from branch to branch in the boughs above his head.

Under one of the late-blooming cherries, Harm is busily knitting a long cylinder out of sparkly rainbow yarn. They're wearing a leaf green tank top with a rainbow patchwork hoodie and brown linen wrap pants, and quite a few pink petals drifting down have worked into their glossy black hair. There's a pair of undyed hemp rope sandals sitting beside them along with a recycled bicycle inner tube satchel from which their working yarn trails. They're singing in a melodic alto, quietly enough that to anyone more than a few paces away, the words are only discernible when the wind shifts just right as a rendition of the Ballad of Tam Lin.(edited)

Leaning against the trunk of a magnolia tree, Rhiannon sits cross-legged, completely immersed in a large hard-covered novel. She is clothed in a loose pastel blue sweater, ripped gray jeans, and Vans, with a simple silver necklace hanging around her neck. A few petals have floated down and landed in her thick, pale hair, which she has tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. She has a cup of tea next to her that she's forgotten about, and it's not only gotten cold, but two flower petals have landed in it. The only time she's distracted from her reading is when a petal falls on the page, breaking her concentration just enough that she lifts her gaze and looks around, eyes finally settling on her tea. "That's unfortunate," she mumbles to herself.

It's only the next shift of wind that drags Gaétan's attention away from the small bright bird. A smile curls into his face, and he cocks his head, listening for a moment to the voice carried more clearly toward him. Leaning forward, he reaches for his instrument, setting aside his drink. He hums along quietly to himself a few measures, then joins the deep voice of his guitar to Harm's lighter alto, head bobbing in time with the folk tune as he plays.

A trio of juniors are walking from the athletic fields back towards the mansion, tossing a football casually back and forth and joking boisterously as they go. One of them, sporting floppy blonde hair and a deep tan that makes him look like one of the Beach Boys reincarnated, spots Harmony and breaks into a wide grin, nudging his fellows and saying something in a low, conspiratorial whisper. All three break into laughter that they try to stifle as they adjust their course towards the first year student under the cherry tree.

"Hey, Freshman!" Beach Boy calls out, heedless of interrupting their song. "What's your name, Charm or Peace or something?"

"Jesus Christ, look at what he's making!" says another of the jocks, the tallest of the three, hefting the football.

The third one only chuckles, shaking his head.

With instrumental accompaniment, or maybe just some confidence that their singing isn't troubling their schoolmates too much, Harm raises their voice a bit louder. "Says Janet fair, 'this wood's my own. My father gave it me, and I can pluck myself a rose without asking leave of thee.' Bold as brass, he takes her hand --" They break off, looking up at the approaching boys, when they realize they're being addressed. A flicker of irritation crosses their face, but they answer politely enough. "Hi. It's Harmony, or Harm." They look down at their work, gripping their needles a little tighter, but then look back up and meets the eyes of the second junior. "It's nothing exciting, just a sock."

Rhiannon is still distracted enough from her reading by the petal that had fallen that, lo and behold, she actually takes notice of the three boys approaching Harmony and snickering. Hearing their words and the tone of their voices, she closes her book and grips it tightly in one hand as she gets to her feet. She keeps her eyes on the ground to make certain she doesn’t trip over anything as she walks over to Harmony and stands next to them. She casts a glance at the boys, then looks at Harmony with the air of deciding the juniors weren’t worth her time. “Hello Harmony. How are you today?” She addresses them, utterly dismissive of the boys.

Though Harm's singing has broken off, Gaétan's playing does not. A little quieter, though, as the boys approach. He sits up a bit straighter, brows creasing slightly as he watches the exchange.

"Oh shit!" Tall Boy blurts out, and his companions laugh. "Little faggot's got a /groupie!/"

"Yeah, why don't you put your nose back in that book, sweetheart?" Beach Boy tells Rhiannon earnestly. "Charmony isn't interested in you."

"And if he was," Tall Boy adds, "he hasn't got much going on downstairs, you know what I mean?" He's elbowing his quieter friend and holding out his thumb and index finger as if to indicate something of very small size. Presumably in case /he/ didn't pick up on the meaning.

"Oh, hey Rhiannon." Harmony tries for a smile but doesn't quite manage it. "I um..." Their shoulders tighten and their cheeks flush red. "Look, guys, can you just like. /Go?/" Their voice has grown very quiet, but the speak the last word firmly. "It's a beautiful day, and there's no call for any of this."

Rhiannon turns to the juniors, jaw clenched, and a very cold smile makes its way into her face. A single long tendril of darkness extends from the hand not holding her book, reaching out and stopping a centimeter from the tall boy’s throat. “I’m going to give you three one warning. You have two options. The first and best option is that you apologize, walk away, and never bother Harmony again. The second is that I make you regret not choosing the first option, and you eventually end up doing what you would have if you’d chosen the first option. The choice is yours. I hope for your sakes that you choose wisely.”

Gaétan sets his guitar down, somewhere during the boys' spiel. He picks up his thermos again, ambling over toward the others to position himself by Harm's side. By the time Rhiannon's tentacle has extended, his eyebrows have hiked /way/ up. He looks to Harm rather than to Rhiannon /or/ the boys, his expression more than a little irritated. "Seriously?" His tone is exceptionally flat. "/This/ is what we're doing today?" He's oddly casual about offering the thermos down to Harmony. "You good?"

"Wow!" Beach Boy exclaims. "Hey guys, can we just /go/?" He imitates Harmony's tone mockingly. "And stop ruining Charmander's day?" His companions howl with laughter

Tall Boy is still whooping when Rhiannon extrudes the tendril. His eyes do go wide, and he starts to back away, but then relaxes, grinning. "/Ohhhh/...this explains everything. Little faggot's all into that hentai shit."

The third jock, who had not spoken yet, steps forward and narrows his eyes at Rhiannon. A sudden shockwave ripples out from him -- visible where it jerks the fallen cherry blossoms out of their leisurely trajectories -- and slams into Rhiannon as though she had been shoved, heavily. The branches above them shake, too, shedding a storm of light pink petals.

Harmony's mouth drops open. "Um, Rhiannon, maybe..." Their quiet objection is drowned out by the bullies' laughter, which only deepens their blush. They surreptitiously tuck their knitting away in their bag and stand up, accepting the thermos from Gaétan. "Yeah, I'm fine." They take a sip of whatever is in the thermos. "Thank --" The shockwave clips them and shoves them up against the treet, cutting their words off with a yelp of pain or surprise.

With a help of surprise, Rhiannon stumbles backwards at the shockwave, trips over her own feet, and falls backward, landing on her rear. She doesn’t seem the least bit put off by it, pulling herself back to her feet immediately, apparently unharmed. “I see you’ve chosen option two. That’s a real shame, but I did say only one warning. You should have taken it while you had the chance.” At that, her book falls from her hand, and three black tentacles shoot out from her, each wrapping tightly around a junior’s throat and lifting them all up to the tips of their toes, so they can’t get enough purchase on the ground to move. They’re not being strangled, not yet, anyway; they can all still breathe, though with difficulty. “Now, be good and apologize, and this won’t get any worse for you.” She knows doing much more than this is going to take a toll on her, just this will be exhausting afterwards, but she’s too angry to really think about that or possible consequences of her actions.

For Gaétan's part, he looks /entirely/ unsurprised when things only escalate. There's a resignation in his expression, and even before the first burst of telekinetic retaliation he's planting his feet and reaching a hand for Harmony's shoulder, to help steady them through the ensuing ripple. But when Rhiannon lashes out again he just shakes his head, exhaling a quick sharp breath. "I'm thinking maybe a different hill might be less Very Special Episode of Xavier's today." He curls an arm around Harmony, steering them back past the cherry tree. Away from the confrontation.

"Jesus Christ!" Beach Boy's voice cracks in his alarm. He seizes the tentacle coiled around his neck tries to wrench it away from him. "Look, we were just messing with him, just kidding around! Take a fucking chill pill!"

Tall Boy is just cursing up a blue streak. "You're gonna regret this, bitch! And your fucking -- rent boy, too!" Though half of the blossoms had been shaken from the branches above just moments ago, they're suddenly blooming anew. Likewise various wildflowers beneath their feet -- violets and crocuses and speedwells galore.

Quiet boy /still/ says nothing, but his eyes blaze with anger. Another telekinetic wave shoves at Rhiannon, even harder this time.

Though clearly still dazed by the impact, Harmony nods jerkily at Gaétan's suggestion. "I hope no one gets hurt, but -- I'm not sticking around for when they get sloppy." They clutch the strap of their bag tight and lets their friend steer them away from the fight, but not without one last backward glance filled with both concern and rage.

When Gaétan and Harmony were gone, Rhiannon relaxes slightly. They won’t get hurt, no matter what happened here. She’s able to focus entirely on the three in front of her, she’s ready for the telekinetic shove this time, only stumbling back a couple of steps. She looks at the beach boy. “All you have to do is say that you’re sorry and that you won’t bother Harmony again, and you can consider that ‘chill pill’ taken.” She next looks at the tall one. “I’m reasonably certain that the only regret I’m going to take from this exchange is that I wasn’t able to keep Harmony from getting knocked over by that little push.” She finally looks at the quiet one. “Speaking of push, you’re only making this worse on yourself, mate. I probably wouldn’t have really followed through on that implied threat if you hadn’t gotten physical.”

"Oh my /gods/," Gaétan says, as he gathers his things. /Quickly/. From under the pear tree. "You honestly could not make this up. I feel like I should be intervening. Whose side should I even be taking in this clusterfuck?" Notably, though, he is /absolutely not/ intervening. He is shoving his notebook into his backpack, getting his guitar, and heading very much in the opposite direction.

"Alright, alright!" Beach Boy squeaks. "We're sorry, alright? Jesus!"

"Don't fucking kiss up to this psycho bitch!" Tall Boy roars. "How you get off calling it an /implied/ threat when you out here waving that tentacle in a dude's face? /Not/ cool! Now let us go!"

Quiet Boy says nothing at all. /Does/ nothing at all. But his eyes follow Harmony and Gaétan as they depart.

The beach boy is suddenly released, although the tentacle that had held him doesn’t disappear, instead languidly, slowly curling and rippling in the air. “Well, I didn’t outright say I was going to do this, now did I?” She replies to the tall one, then her eyes focus in on the quiet boy. “What are you looking at them for, bastard? I’m the one with a grip on your throat, not them.” She takes a deep breath, her feet firmly planted in case the telekinetic shove strikes again. “I’ll let you go when you apologize for spouting offensive rubbish, it’s that simple. Actions and words have consequences. This is your consequence.”

Coming up the hill from the lakeside, Kyinha looks like a patch of animated night wreathed in flames and dressed in a gray-and-blue geometric pattern rash guard and blue kilt. Whether some student tipped him off or whether he saw the commotion on his own, he is making a beeline for the fight, gathering in Gaétan and Harmony with a firm beckoning gesture as he goes. "Stop!" he commands, his voice firm if not loud, his faint accent more pronounced than usual. "Rhiannon, put those boys down, please. What is going on here?!"

Gaétan winces as he and Harm are intercepted mid-escape. He sets his shoulders, presses his lips together, and turns right back around, leaning just a little bit against Harm's side as they head back towards the fracas. Kyinha's inquiry as to what is going /on/, though, well. He just raises his eyebrows, presses his lips together, and lifts his thermos for a loooong sip of the iced oolong tea inside before passing the thermos off to his friend.

Harmony's eyes widen when the teacher gestures for them, but comes obediently, leaning lightly back against Gaétan. At Kyinha's question they just sigh and shake their head, taking the thermos for a long sip. But they don't answer, either.

Once released, Beach Boy only gets a few steps away before the teacher arrives on scene. He mouths "fuck" very quietly and stops, turns around, shoulders slumping.

Quiet Boy never actually /stops/ glaring at Gaetan and Harmony. Not even when Kyinha has come up to them. Not even when asked a direct question.

Tall Boy, however, smirks at Rhiannon. "Hey, what was that about actions having consequences, again?"

Rhiannon looks at the teacher and takes a very deep breath, slowly releasing both her rage and the two boys, though now the three tentacles still remain swirling in the air, their mere existence probably seeming vaguely threatening. She doesn’t have to fake the tears that prick her eyes. “These... individuals... used deeply offensive language and were being bullies, and I told them to stop. I told them there would be consequences if they didn’t. They not only didn’t listen, but employed force. Call it... self defense? Maybe self defense to the point of excess, but to be fair, they provoked me.” She speaks quietly, her demeanor completely changing.

Kyinha's eyes are only fiery holes in the flat darkness of his face, and now they narrow slightly. "Oookay. We can talk about this further, but if that's all you're going to tell me, you are all getting detention -- /and/ mediation."

Gaétan's weight shifts back onto a heel, one hand lifting to press knuckles against an eye through Rhiannon's explanation. His eyes just roll up toward the sky at the conclusion of this, and he bonks his head briefly against Harmony's before straightening. "All getting detention. Go figure." The smile he gives Kyinha is brittle. "Are /you/ going to be mediating?"

Harmony just looks down at the extra-flowery grass through this exchange. Straightens up slightly at the bonk, though. They look over at Kyinha, then at the three bullies. "Do you really think it'll help anyone?" they ask, voice soft but gaze sharp.

Beach Boy and Quiet Boy still say nothing, only hang their heads in defeat. Tall Boy, though, is incadescent at Rhiannon's explanation. "That is such bullsh--crap! We were just trying to have a conversation with him --" He points at Harmony. "-- when /she/ butted in and threatened us and then choked us with her tentacles. /I/ think she needs therapy."

“Harmony and Gaétan shouldn’t get detention. They weren’t at fault in the slightest. I’ll admit my temper got the best of me.” She turns to the tall boy, the three black tentacles coiling tightly like fists at her sides. “Are you kidding me? You in particular used... extreme homophobic slurs. You are a bigot, and you don’t even have the decency to admit it.” She just shakes her head slowly in pure amazement at his depravity.

Kyinha sucks in a long breath and lets it back out. The smile that answers Gae's is, like most of his, a bit on the creepy side -- firelight illuminating his teeth from the inside. "Unless someone is uncomfortable with my leading that process and would prefer someone else? Yes." He looks between Rhiannon and the three junior boys. "Look...this detention, it is not meant to be a punishment. It is for giving you time and space to process what happened here -- with whatever help I, or another faculty member, can provide." To Harmony he gives sort of half a nod, half a shrug. "So yes, the idea is for it to help. Whether or not it will -- that's more up to you all than me." He sweeps a jet black hand back toward the mansion. "Go along now, if none of you are injured. I'll see you tomorrow after class."