ArchivedLogs:All the Sads

All the Sads
Dramatis Personae Peter, Kai, Shane, Daiki	2013-05-01 All of them.
Location <XS> Gymnasium
For a mutant school, this is a pretty standard gym, even if its sturdy construction to handle mutant powers is less standard. Still, it is designed along normal lines; setup for a basketball court, standard equipment -- punching bags, rubber mats, standard assortment of balls, weight training equipment, the usual fare. It is large, and as well-appointed as the rest of Xavier's tends to be. The gym is loud at the moment. Grunting, quiet thwap, the steelier ring of metal on metal. Part of the gym has a taped-off lane marked down it, and two figures clad in white with darker helmets covering their heads are parrying back and forth down the center of it. /Lunge/ and thrust and parry and lunge and this all continues kind of /rapid/-quick. A third figure, also in white though less so, watches; Ines has shed her jacket but still wears her leggings, her helmet tucked under her arm. She is overseeing this practice-match, apparently, eyes tracking the figures steadily. "Halt -- attack is parried, riposte is good. Point." She lifts her right hand, nearer the shorter of the two figures. They retreat to their starting lines, waiting; almost as soon as the OK has come ("En garde. Ready... fence.") they are in motion again. Clangclang. Clang. "Whoa," Peter says, stepping forward - holding what looks like an armful of /sparring/ supplies - shieldy-mitts for blocking blows, punchy-mitts (that leave the fingers exposed_ for delivering them, and some head and chest padding. He is (probably!) followed by a Kai, who is (apparently!) to be Peter's sparring double today. Peter himself is - clad in his usual red hoodie, blue jeans, tabi socks, and red /ski-mask/ along with golden-tinted goggles; he's got his backpack on, along with unusually lumpy wrist-watches - much more small and /precise/ looking, these are actually easily mistaken for the real-deal. "Man I didn't know they did /fencing/ here--" Kai follows in Peter's wake, eyeing the gym and the other occupants curiously as they fence. He's dressed in sweatpants and an Xavier's t-shirt, and he is not bare-footed, but in socks, which are probably his concession to the need to wear shoes in here and makes his going very quiet indeed. He watches the dance of foils, and frowns deeply at Peter's comment. "They are not doing anything with fences," he says, his expression growing troubled. "Those are swords, Peter." He says this in a patient sort of voice. In case Peter was confused on the matter. "Fences require much digging and nailing." Another hurried flurry of activity, though in the middle of this the smaller figure's head turns to glance towards the newcomers, mid-thrust. "Attack is a miss. Yellow card, crossing the line. Back to your positions." "Fencing," the taller of the two says, "not fences. This sport is called fencing." His voice is quiet, touched with soft Japanese accenting to his syllables. The warmth that comes when he speaks is a subtle thing, a gentle sort of allure that immediately encourages a greater sense of ease, a greater predisposition to /liking/ him. The shorted of the two just hisses an irritable 'tsss,' through his mask, stomping back towards the line. "-- You know, being unsportsmanlike is pretty much the /worst/ offense," Ines advises him cheerfully, hopping down from her perch on a stack of folded mats. "-- Words can mean more than one thing," she adds to Kai, but then she is heading towards the locker room; perhaps practice is /over/. Perhaps she's just bored with volunteer-judging. "Oh /duh/ yeah wait they had it on the electives sheet," Peter says, /frowning/ under his mask, "now I remember /duh/, and--" a glance back at Kai as both one of the fencers /and/ Ines explain what is up; he quickly turns back to the two in their suits - blushing underneath his mask. WHO IS THAT ROGUEISHLY ENCHANTING TALL FELLOW IN THE MASK. Peter may never know. "...right, it's - like sword-fighting, 'cept with /rules/ actually I've never fenced." He's stepping toward the matts, now. Setting down the /pile/ of stuff he's carried with him, gesturing to Kai. "Anyway, um, did you ever - have you ever /sparred/ you know I realize I don't even know if you have any clue what I'm asking you to /do/..." He glances back at the two fencers, now, nervously curious. Kai's brow twitches as the taller of the two explains, and his smile is warm and shy -- if a touch confused. "Why do they call it fencing, if it does not mean fences?" he asks, completely lost in that concept. "English is a funny language." For those who might not be aware. He lifts a hand at Ines as she exits, and follows after Peter, looking back at the shorter of the two fencers briefly before shaking his head at the question. "I have never done this before," he says. "But if it is something /you/ are asking me to do, I will try." Because he totally trusts Peter, poor kid. He frowns at the pads, and crouches flat-footed to pick up one of the headpieces and turning over thoughtfully. So strange. "Is it hard to learn?" "Yes. It is a sport. In the fall." The taller of the two is pulling off his helmet. It is Daiki because of course it is Daiki, there are few other students who manage to Enchant Roguishly even through head-to-toe covering. Probably properly now as he de-helmets he should toss his hair, let it flutter in the nonexistant breeze. But instead it just kind of hangs there limp and sweaty-damp. "Professor Wagner teaches this. He is very good." The other fencer isn't speaking. His black mask is turned towards the other two, and eventually he tugs his helmet off his head, too. He hands it to Daiki. Along with his foil. And then his jacket! Here, Daiki, have /all/ the clothes. Underneath, Shane is /grinning/ brightly, cheery-happy-wide as he shucks his leggings, too, leaving him in tight black shirt and tight black shorts, dark against blue skin. "Not hard at all. C'mon, I'll show you," he offers easily. Nnnmm-hm. Peter is distracted from peering curiously and intently at Daiki by a suddenly appearing /Shane/, and. "Oh, hey--! Shane." A little more /quietly/ than he said at the party. Whatever excitement is subdued in his voice is promptly picked up by his arm, which /flail-waves/ at Shane. Rather wildly. "Oh man hey dude you /fence/ I didn't know you fenced that's..." He glances from Shane to Kai, then, then back to Shane: "Oh, Kai's helping me - do - punchy things. I mean, I don't think he knows how to..." Back to Kai, then. Just the /slightest/ prickle of Peter's danger sense. "...um, it's easy, though to be honest /I/ kinda don't know what I'm doing either, but - basically you're gonna put on this helmet and chest-thingy, and these hand-thingies, and I'm gonna - you're gonna block my punches? Because I need to practice on how not to, like, punch /hard/..." A glance back over at Shane. Maybe-nervously, maybe-excitedly. If Peter had a tail, it would be /tentatively/ wagging. Kai makes a soft sort of noise when Daiki's helmet is removed, and he blushes faintly. "It looks very graceful," he offers in reply to the older youth, and then words are failing him for some reason. He turns the headgear over in his hands thoughtfully as Peter explains his role in the exercise, and looks up as Shane addresses him. The other teen is given a long, studious look. "You are a handsome color," he says honestly. "It is very striking." He lacks Peter's danger sense, so he's got a shy, grateful smile for Shane as he rises to extend a hand. "That is kind of you to offer. I am Kai." He tilts his head briefly, as if listening. "I do not think we have met before this." "I fence," Shane agrees, ambling closer to Kai. "Practice is good." He extends a hand, too, webbed fingers curling around Kai's in a firm shake. And squeezing, hard; not enough to /crunch/ but there's definitely an excessive amount of strength there that really does not look like it should be possibly in the diminutive teen. "I know who you are, motherfucker. You melt anyone to death lately? You know, my dad /still/ has scars." The grip of his hand is tiiiightening. Slowly. "/Shane/." Daiki's voice is not harsh; he doesn't even raise it. But Shane reacts as lightning-quick as if he had, dropping Kai's hand in an instant. "This /bastard/ killed Eli," he says, though a gritted mouthful of very sharp teeth. Daiki's head inclines, in acknowledgment of this fact; his eyes dance between the others. "He is far from the only one in this school who has killed." The quiet draw of his power strengthens, with an agitation that doesn't show in his calm expression; Shane's shoulders slump even if his eyes stay narrowed. "Forgive him," Daiki says, "it has been a -- long. Year." Peter's power is usually focused primarily on /Peter's/ welfare; nevertheless, he still gets a prickle when there is a threat of violence in his vicinity - when things risk going south. And that prickle flares up as Shane approaches Kai. It /sharpens/ into something - almost /painful/ - when Shane reaches for Kai's hand. And then, suddenly, in a /flash/ - Peter is close - right behind Kai. His face blank, not looking apprehensive - just supremely /interested/ in what is going on. When Shane releases Kai's hand, Peter gives Kai the tiniest bit of a tug - as if to reel him back, /away/ from the shark - and moves in to slip in front of Shane instead. "Hey, Shane, I really - everybody really missed you," Peter says. Oho, is he deploying his secret CHANGE-THE-SUBJECT attack? Well, he /does/ look earnest when he says this. And despite all the toothiness of Shane, his posture doesn't seem very nervous! In fact, it's quite a contrast; Peter almost always acts apprehensive - but right now, he seems /remarkably/ calm! He is, in fact, slipping up /close/ to Shane, as if - ohGod, is Peter looking for /hugs/? He... he might be. His arms are even starting to spread. "I'm sorry - at the party - I kinda - I saw B, I think, and I was like yelling to get his attention? But I think he thought I was yelling /at/ him..." Kai's eyes widen to near-circles when Shane bears down on his hand, and there's a small noise of pain that's almost a keen. "Th-that was...not..." he can't deny the allegation, though, and his eyes begin to glisten as he attempt to withdraw his hand. "I did not mean..." He can't quite figure out what to say, and he tugs at his hand even harder, throwing a frightened look over his shoulder at Peter. He's got his weight into it when Shane releases his grip, and he would fall on the floor if not for Peter's hand on his arm, which results in an awkward dosey-do sort of maneuver that puts him behind the other boy. For a long moment, he stares off at a wall dully before there's a wince when Daiki speaks. "No," he says softly -- softer than usual, that is. "His anger is correct. Foom injured his father and murdered his friend." He swallows, and leans to look around Peter at Shane, frowning deeply. "For this, I am truly sorry." "Fuck that bullshit," Shane says sharply to Peter. "Nobody in the fucking place /missed/ us it was the same old fucking /shit/ the second we got back." Behind him, Daiki clears his throat. Shane's eyes -- well, stay narrowed, but slightly less so. "... maybe one person missed us," he allows, "but I hate. This fucking school." He snatches his foil back from Daiki, and his helmet and jacket as well. "Foom," he says with a derogatory snort. "How the shit are you going to get control over your crap if you don't /own/ it? You have something dangerous inside you. A dangerous /part/ of you. You try to pretend like it's not a part of you and /it's/ going to control /you/." SANS HUG, Peter lets his spreading arms drop back at his sides. Like anvils. THUNK. Sway, sway. His expression is hidden beneath the mask, but by the tilt of his head, he is now staring firmly at the ground. His posture is like that of a pet dog that's being chided for having just peed on the carpet. "...oh. Um. Oh. Oh. Oh-kay," he says, reluctantly, before adding: "...is it - do you want me to - um, okay. I'm sorry, Shane." Oh man, he sounds like he might go and /cry/. Shifting, turning back to Kai. "...um, I'm not feeling like - we should probably - c'mon," he tells Kai, half-whispering, reaching out to - piece by piece - gather up the sparring outfit, back up into his arms. Kai frowns at Shane's advice, and his lower lip juts out a bit. "But that is why I am here," he says in a confused sort of voice. "To learn these things, so I do not repeat them." That Shane is unaware of this fact, or seems to be, is confounding to say the least. He gives Peter's sudden awkward a look, confusion slipping to concern. When his friend turns to him, he nods, giving Shane a solemn look. "I am thinking you are right in this," he answers back in the same half-whisper. "I do not wish anyone to be uncomfortable." Then he's back in his flat-footed crouch, helping to gather up the equipment, piling it in Peter's arms quietly. "Yeah," Shane says, and it's tired and kind of deflated, "s'why we're all here." He isn't putting his things back on. He shakes his head as the others gather their equipment. "We were done anyway." He hugs his helmet close to his chest, slinking rather than stomping off towards the locker rooms. Daiki glances after Shane. Glances back towards Peter and Kai. There is a faint flush to his cheeks, and his head bows. "My apologies," he says, very softly. "...no it's okay I mean, I know he's, um, he's--" Peter begins, and for a moment it seems like he might be talking to Kai /and/ Daiki. He's certainly not making eye -- or is it goggle? -- contact with /either/ of them. "--from /circumstances/, just... I wanted to..." For a while, Peter continues picking things up, not finishing the sentence. Once he's got everything in his arms, though... ".../want/ to... talk to him." Now, at least, he doesn't sound like he's going to cry. To Kai, spoken in a sudden /rush/ of urgency: "Stay away from them. The sharktwins, I mean. Not - they aren't /bad/, but. Kai. Don't be around them alone. Not until we're sure that... They're /angry/ and I /know/ you didn't mean to, and I /know/ it isn't your fault, but y--FOOM hurt Jax, and killed somebody they know, and you should be careful around them for a while, I mean they aren't terrible but I don't want them getting in tro--I don't want /you/ getting /hurt/," he adds, as if correcting himself. "Maybe it will be okay later but for now just don't be alone with them." Kai frowns when the awkward seems to ramp up, and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. Daiki's apology gets another shake of head. "As I said, his anger is correct." This could be to either Daiki /or/ Peter, although Kai's chin is somewhere on his chest. His socks are so interesting. When Peter speaks, he lifts his chin and stares at the other boy. His eyes narrow at the slight correction, and those who are quick enough might see the tiniest flicker of yellow around the edges of his pupils. "Yessss." he says slowly, drawing it out like a serpentine hiss. "I understand you." He looks between the other three boys, his eyes still narrowed. Then, suddenly, his expression drains into something weary and troubled. "I do not think I will stay here any longer,' he says weakly. "I-I..." There's nothing left to say, apparently, because then he's turning to flee, his socks slipping on the polished floor and making for a less-than-dignified exit. "Oh man," Peter announces to - well, /himself/ - as Kai stammers and /flees/ out of the room. "Oh man oh /man/," and now maybe he /does/ sound a little like he's going to cry AGAIN. "I just screwed that up, didn't I," he asks his punching pads. Then, finally, shoulders slumped, he /marches/ - reluctantly - back to the equipment room. To deposit. Paddings.