ArchivedLogs:Act Normal

Act Normal
Dramatis Personae Anole, Jack	2015-08-03 "Who says they get to decide what normal is anyway?"
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. Jack may not have liked it but he used to pick pockets to survive. Food, paying people to leave him alone, and other little things that helped when he was on the streets. And he'd resolved to stop once he ended up at the school. But today is a special case. Today he spotted someone that just yesterday had pegged the invisible teen with an oversized slurpee, spilling the tasty, frosty treat all over him for the simple crime of just being a mutant. Jack's standing in the shade provided by a building, dressed in worn jeans, a blue hoodie, and some old sneakers he's in the process of tying. Of course he's also concentrating his telekinesis, a wallet carefully 'falling' out of the pocket of a man who looks like he shops exclusively at Abercrombie and Fitch and then carefully sliding along the pavement towards Jack. Sharp eyes might notice it but most people just keep walking obliviously. It'd also take sharp eyes to notice the shape perched up on a wall a story and a half up one of the nearby buildings, blended in to the dirty stone; Anole isn't moving, not for a while. Not until the man has left (sans wallet); at which point he hops from one fire escape to the next, skin shifting from stone to brick as he transfers buildins. Sidles down a wall to hover nearer head-height on Jack, just a few feet higher than his former roommate. "... have they stopped feeding you out there or something?" It sounds like a serious question. Kind of concerned. Oddly grubby-brick-coloured eyes are peering out of the wall a little wide and concerned. Picking up the wallet as it reaches him, Jack smiles to himself. Both because his little act of petty revenge went well and because it felt easier to use his TK now than it had in the past. Standing, the invisible teen jumps at the sudden voice, quickly glancing around until he spots that odd shape and the eyes on the wall. The question registers as he relaxes. "No it's just..." he glances at his former roommate and leans against the wall. "Kinda dumb but I ran into that guy yesterday and when he saw I was a mutant...he was a real asshole about it. Threw a drink at me, yelled some crap," Jack shrugs, a little embarrassed to have been caught. "Oh -- oh." Faintly, Anole relaxes where he is pressed up against the wall; kind of an odd shift of posture given his current upside-down position clinging to the brick. "Well, good, then." Though he follows this up a little sheepishly: "... not good that he was an asshole. Good that you -- have food. Cuz otherwise that -- would -- yeah." His head ducks, slightly. "... sucks that happened though. People can be such -- dicks." Jack gives a nod, unseen eyes flicking up towars Anole for a moment. He smiles a little and makes sure no one's watching before offering the wallet up to Anole. "People really can be dicks," he agrees. He's quiet a moment before letting out a breath. "Here and back up at the school," he shrugs. "Shane told me you're not coming back." Anole's eyes flick one way down the street and then the other, a little uncertain at first. There's a brief moment of hesitation before his tongue flicks out with an abrupt thwp!, nabbing the wallet from Jack's invisible hand and transferring it to his clawed one. He rifles through it rapidly, keeping cash, a metro card, and a Starbucks card. The rest gets dumped in a flash. "I..." His claws scrape against the brick, for a moment. "No," he says, quietly. "M'not. People there..." He trails off here, for a moment. When he looks back at Jack, his eyes are green again, bright and natural though the rest of his face has still faded into the brick. "... have people been giving you trouble there?" Jack smiles invisibly at the way Anole takes the wallet. "That's still cool," he says. He looks up at the sound of scraping claws, idly wondering how tough the other teen's claws are and if they can cut into brick. "They give you shit for being an obvious mutant?" he guesses. Meeting those green eyes, Jack gives a single shouldered shrug. "Some, yeah. Not as much as others get but that's because there's a lot of just...not noticing I'm there. Was talking about it all yesterday with Shane and a new girl who might be transferring in." "It wasn't as bad for me as some people. Like the twins or -- Taylor, people just bullied -- bully -- them nonstop. For /years/. And the teachers barely do anything, honestly, because when it comes down to it they /always/ prioritize the other kids over them. Us." Anole doesn't actually sound angry about this. Just resigned. "I mean, the whole school is set up to -- what's it they say -- prepare us for having a normal life? So /obviously/ they're going to favour the kids who -- are ever going to /have/ a normal life." He skitters downwards, coming to perch on the lid of a dumpster. "It just -- wasn't really working for me, you know? The only real friends I had graduated. And they fired my advisor. And half the students treat me like a freak. And half the /teachers/ treat us like the /freak/ is something we're supposed to be trying to hide. I don't know how to live like that." "Yeah, I've been noticing it more. Apparently the teachers like to blame us for trouble first too," Jack sighs. He's got a similar tone as he says it, one shoulder lifting and falling for a half shrug. "Yeah, the whole...blend in and act 'normal' thing. Like they don't even consider what its like for people like us that can't just...turn off what we got in the genetic lottery," he shakes his head. "Who says they get to decide what normal is anyway?" he looks up towards the sky for a few moments. "Still sorry to see you go." "You have no idea the number of times I saw /teachers/ blaming things on -- on -- kids being too /feral/ or /animal/ natures like -- like we're some sort of /beasts/ and need /training/ in how to be /human/ if we're --" Anole lifts his clawed hand, gestures towards his scaled face. "But, you know, Max breaking all B's statues she'd been working on for months Dennis stomping the twins clothes into the mud while they were swimming, that's just, like, kids being kids." His arm curls around his shins, back slumping against the brick. "I don't think I believe in normal. Just in -- finding somewhere you don't /have/ to blend in. I mean -- it's kind of a joke anyway. Even the kids who pass -- I don't know what the point is. You do all that work to hide and hide and hide but -- the world's never going to like you any better. You just fake it so they don't /know/ they hate you." "Damn," Jack sighs. "I heard about the thing with B but...sheesh. That's just making excuses for people," he shakes his head. "I haven't seen anything as bad as that. Got in trouble for defending someone from some others picking on them though," he lets his head thump against the brick lightly. "Normal is different for every person. Like...there's no uniform. Should focus more on changing the outside world rather than getting everyone to blend." "There's a lot of world, though." Anole's eyes are fading back into his surroundings, his voice dropping quiet as he watches people pass them by on the street. "Do you think it can change?" "Maybe. I hope it can at least," Jack replies. "Not fast or easy...but its possible," he says. There's a long pause before Jack lets out a breath. "So you live down in the tunnels Shane mentioned now?" "I lived there before." Anole's head bobs in a small nod. "And again. I only found the school because of Shane and B and Peter. When we were locked up together in -- um. In the cops'. Fight -- death. Ring. Cages. When we made it through they told me about this place -- and my -- kinda -- adopted -- mom, she thought it was a good idea if I got an education, so I came -- but. That was -- then. And they're gone now and she's..." His eyes tip up towards the sky. "Anyway, I'm back. Home. There." Jack nods a bit. "An education is probably still a good idea even if the school isn't working for you. Might be another way to get it," he shrugs. "I came to New York because I heard rumors about a community of mutants...never knew it was actually true down there," he says. Eventually, Jack smiles a bit. "Wanna go grab something to eat? We could hit up Evolve, on me." "Maybe. Maybe." Anole gnaws on his lip uncertainly. "I don't really know how, though. I don't think other schools would really -- want me." His shoulder lifts, falls. "And yeah. It's -- I mean, it's sort of just a community of -- freaks, you know? I don't know," he admits with a laugh, "how many of the normal mutants would really want to live in our sewers." A slow -- shy, cautious -- smile touches his face. He climbs down off the dumpster, shifting his backpack from his chest to his back as his feet hit the ground and he shifts from four legs to two. "Really? I -- okay. I'd -- sure. That -- that sounds nice." "Maybe some kind of home schooling down there?" Jack suggests. "Sewers aren't as bad as some of the places people like us could end up. Or places I've slept but then people say Jersey is really the Sewer State anyway," he tries to joke. It can't be seen but he's smiling as he nods. "Yeah, really. C'mon," says, starting to lead the way. "Hmm." Anole's head tips thoughtfully at this. "Maybe..." Though after this he's quirking a crooked smile. "Sewers are pretty amazing. I've ended up some --" His hugely lopsided arm flexes. "Not so great places. The tunnels are just -- home." A small blush darkens his green cheeks as he starts to follow after Jack. "And -- thanks."