ArchivedLogs:Journalistic Integrity

Journalistic Integrity
Dramatis Personae Ghost, Shane	2013-12-02 '
Location <XS> Roof
The view from up here is phenomenal, a panorama of the expansive Xavier's grounds, forest and lake and rocky cliffs alike. Even without the view outwards, the rooftop itself holds its own delights, in the form of the tiny jewel of a flower garden tucked away up here, tended by one of the school's teachers. From the edge of the roof, with a veeery careful jump, it looks like it just might be possible to reach the treehouse in the old oak tree. It's been a mild day, but as the sun sets the temperature is dropping quickly. The added breeze up on the roof puts an extra bite in the air. It's quiet up here, and at first glance might seem deserted though there's signal enough that it isn't for those with keen enough awareness to notice. Though the breeze carries the majority of smoke /away/ from the school, there's a faint trace of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, as well as the intermittent very soft crackling of the cigarette burning lower. A tiny tap-tap-tap of claws against brick, coming from somewhere /below/ the roof's eaves on the side of the roof overlooking the front lawn. Shane is up here, if hidden from /immediate/ view, tucked up beneath the overhang of the roof on a small ledge running along under it. He's dressed in a deep grey-black wool peacoat, slim-fit, pinstriped dark trousers, polished black shoes. He has a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other, currently engaged in sending text messages. Emerging from the attic, Ghost quickly knows she's not alone up here, smelling the smoke. Clad in a black jacket, a gray undershirt, and a pair of jeans, but barefoot as usual, the purple skinned girl approaches the area of the smell. When she finally actually locates Shane, her face changes from one of interest to disappointment. "Oh, it's just you up here. Just my luck.". She looks over the overhang, looking at the front yard below. "How are you?". Shane's set his phone down in his lap, but he picks it back up at the sound of approaching feet, quiet though they are. He tucks the phone into his pocket, bracing a hand on the ledge as he tips his head back up to look up at Ghost. He exhales a sigh on a heavy cloud of grey smoke. "Just your luck," he agrees quietly. "I /was/ enjoying the quiet. Fuck have I ever done to you?" He plucks the cigarette from his lips between thumb and forefinger, tapping ash from its end and then sticking it back in his mouth. He pulls out a pack of them from his jacket, offering it towards Ghost with eyebrows raised in silent questioning. "It's not what you've done to me that makes me wary, it's what you've done in general.". Ghost wryly smirks, waving her hand to decline the cigarette offer. "Can't. Religion. Polluting my body and all that.". She instead reaches into her pocket, pulling out a piece of gum and putting it in her mouth, as she rests against an overhang, looking down below. "Not that I'd smoke anyways, I'm legally not old enough and I don't want the administration on my back.". "Yeah?" Shane takes another long drag of his smoke, black eyes turning back out towards the silvery glimmer of the distant lake. "Fuck have I done in general, then." He blows out another stream of smoke. The gills alongside his neck quiver, and then lie flat. "The administration's full of shit, they won't do jack to kids like you or me. S'a weird fucking place we're in with them." "Like you don't know. Gossip gets around fast, you know.". Ghost laughs a small bit, still watching the enviroment, rapping her fingers against the overhang she is at. "Detention comes to mind. Just getting called out and it put on my record in general isn't something I want, really.". She sighs, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "I came up here for the exact same reason as you exactly. Quiet. It's so noisy all the time.". "Why do you give a fuck what's on your record." Shane sounds tired, rather than sharp. "The hell do you think people like us are going to do when we get out of here." The next breath he exhales his sharper. "Yeah," he agrees, "gossip travels fast. Guess you hear a lot of it." "I don't know about you, but I plan on becoming a journalist, and I'm not letting my mutation get in the way of that.", Ghost announces smugly, waving her hand through her hair. "I can't help but hear it. When people talk around me, I'm going to hear it. Gives me a headache mostly, but, some of this stuff is useful information. Tells me who to avoid and who to talk to and what not.". She continues staring down at the ground. "But then again, I can't really judge, can I?" "Don't think you're going to have a choice about that, dude. But have fun dreaming." Shane stubs out the butt end of his cigarette against the wall, flicking the butt down to the ground four stories below. "Well, you're not avoiding me. 'zat mean I'm on the talk-to list?" "Yeah, well, dremaing is what I do best, I guess.". Ghost continues to rap her fingers, sighing, her other hand still brushing her hair. "I guess so. You're truly not as bad as they say, though you do have the attitude I keep hearing about.". "Nope." Shane actually says this cheerfully, with a sharp bright grin for the first time this conversation. He turns, pulling his feet back up onto the ledge and scooting sideways to the edge of the roof so that he can carefully climb back up a drain and pull himself properly /onto/ the roof now. "I'm worse than they say. You should listen. Whatever the fuck you hear, just. Believe it. Usually the best policy for a journalist, isn't it?" "That is slightly frightening how cheerfully you just said that.". Ghost scoots away from his direction, only a bit, but still trying to maintain space. "I've heard plenty, but you're not as bad as person in my opinion. If you change my opinion, well, then, you've changed my opinion. I guess maybe I'm a bad journalist, then?". She laughs a small bit, taking her piece of gum out and flicking it off the roof. "Though, I'm really actually the best journalist, also in my opinion.". Once back on the roof, Shane just crouches down at its edge. His fingers curl against the roof's edge, the tips of his shoes hanging off it. "I don't know if you're a good or a bad journalist. I don't read the school paper. What kinda stories do you write about?" Ghost sighs, smiling. "The hard-hitting stories that the people want to hear, of course.". She then pauses, rapping her fingers harder. "But, those ones never actually get published and end up stored on my laptop, might make a blog for those. The stuff I write that actually gets into the newspaper is usually sports stuff, recent events, the normal school newspaper crud. Pretty boring if you ask me but gotta start somewhere.". "Who's in charge of the paper?" Shane asks this absently, brow furrowing as he considers. "They're not exactly stuffy here you could probably write interesting things. Write about the administration's discrimination against freaks. Even in here there's a hierarchy." "I'm probably too overzealous, probably why they reject some of my articles.". Ghost pauses, listening to Shane talk about the administration. "Ooh, go on. I'm truly interested now, what do you know?". She raps her fingers against the wall even faster. "Could really use a good scoop right about now.". "I know if there's problems between normal-looking kids and --" Shane gestures between himself and Ghost with a clawed hand. "We tend to get punished harder. Actually we tend to just get ridden harder in general. Once when Ivan used his powers to attack me and my brother attacked him back to make it /stop/, Ivan got an afternoon of detention and my brother got suspended for a week. And B isn't /me/, you know? Straight A student, tutor, class president, he'd never gotten in trouble before that ever. But even here people look at us and see animals first. You should ask Taylor about the shit people give /him/." His eyes are fixed outwards, distant towards the lake. "I'm sure they mean well, you know? But they mean well like fucking missionaries heading to Africa. Like we're savages they need to enlighten." As Shane explains all this to Ghost, her eyes lighten up and she gets a grin on her face like a kid on Christmas. "Holy shit, that's quite the scoop. And, yeah, I know Sebastian. That shit is crazy.". She looks up, mentally making a note of all of this and who to talk to. "Taylor, you said? I'll talk to him next time I see him. If I'm lucky, this article should be in the paper sometime soon. If not, well, I'll have to go renegade, because, wow, this is quite the story.". She's getting up from her place at the wall, heading towards the attic. "Thanks, totally. You might have saved my ass.". One side of Shane's mouth hooks upwards in a small crooked smile. "I'll make sure to actually read a copy, then. And if they keep shitting on the ideas you have you can always just print your own paper. Or put it online. Not gonna stop you blogging." His chin lifts in a jerky upward nod. "Anytime."