ArchivedLogs:Villainy

Villainy
Dramatis Personae Tristan, Shane, Lia, Jax, Sugar	3 February 2015 '
Location <XS> Front Gate
Situated along the long sweep of Greymalkin Lane, offset from the quiet hamlet of Salem Center, the Xavier Institute is a prestigious boarding school for young minds. Set on more than forty acres of carefully cultivated land, the mansion is not visible from the road. What can be seen are the rolling hills, forested grounds, and the sparkling blue of the large clear lake. The drive is gated, a small brick enclosure housing the security guard on duty to ID and vet visitors to the school. The traitor has been planning this for some time, working on his tracking skills, making sure to be up just before dawn, sneaking off the isle, and making the train to Salem Center. As he walks through the streets, he has been able to use his senses to find the mansion which is better then some have done in the past. Tristan is currently dressed in a simple pair of black jeans, t-shirt, leather coat, with a scarf, hat and fingerless gloves. On his feet are a pair of sleek combat boots that are laced up tight to his ankles. As he walks upon the gate, he cocks his head to the side. A soft sigh escaping him as he rings the gate buzzer, and waits. A impatient type, he leaps in a single bound to the top of the gate and crouches to scan the landscape. His eyes shift to a cat-eye yellow as he scans as deeply as he can to smell, see, and hear what is going on at the large mansion. What might be going on at the mansion is anyone's guess, many of its occupants tucked away inside with the snowy cold. What's going on right /here/ though is easier to see and hear and smell -- loud and rambunctious, there are people barreling through the snow, through the trees right towards the gate. Shane is not exactly /dressed/ like he's rambunctious -- he /has/ traded out his polished oxfords for (polished!) boots, at least, but he's otherwise in /slacks/ and a trim charcoal peacoat, silver-and-blue scarf and mittens. No hat, his spiky-plasticky black hair already liberally dusted with snow. There are /several/ snowballs tucked into the crook of his arm and he's hefting a mittened hand to lob one backwards -- though for once his usually precise aim is off, because even as he throws he is turning sharply to /sniff/ an unfamiliar scent in the air. Drop into a crouch and /growl/, black eyes shooting up towards the gate. "What the fuck are you doing." It might be a little less hard to find the front gate than usual, seeing as there's a /battle/ going on. All of the running and darting and hiding has driven Lia, and perhaps a few other combatants, up toward the gate. Lia, at the very least, is not relying on stealth. One hopes. There is a lot of giggling and shrieking and darting. The blue faux-fur trimmed parka, white mittens, extra-thick lined leggings covered in cornflower blue legwarmers, and equally faux-fir trimmed boots (very likely with a girl inside, to judge from stature and pitch of shrieks) makes its way from tree to tree, stooping now and then to gather more snow to fashion into ammunition. It's the growl that catches her attention more than anything. She freezes in place, chocolate-brown eyes seeking out and finding Shane. Her approach /is/ a little stealthier to slink up a few feet behind the sharkboy. As he turns his yellow eyes on Shane, Tristan cocks his head to the side as he stands up and stuffs his hands into his leather pocket. He slowly begins to walk over the tips of the iron gate, before he stops in the center, and crouches down sniffing the air around him. "Aren't you just...a ball full of fun." As he balances himself with ease, he states, "I want to see the X-men. Are they here?" Tristan takes his hand out of his pockets, grabbing one on the fence to keep him steady while resting the other at his side. His eyes moving to Lia as he smirks softly before looking back at Mister Grumpy Fish. "Who the fuck are you?" Shane is instinctively moving just a little bit more in front of Lia, slipping his mittens off to tuck them in his pockets. Most of his cache of snowballs goes paf'ing to the ground, though he catches one of them, almost absently packing it closer. "We have a goddamn gate." Lia's eyes go wider in their startled-deer-like fashion at the curious demands from the stranger. "He is fun. You do not know. You are not from here." She glances quickly at Shane for guidance in how to play this. "Gate. Found the gate. You are on it. Not supposed to go over it. It is rude." /Her/ arms and pockets are still filled with snowballs, but she is just...holding them for now. "Oh relax. I am not here to hurt the kiddies. And I will stay right here until I am invited." His eyes shift back to his baby blues as he looks back at Shane. Tristan states, "I am Lynx. My real name is Tristan Kitsch. I am a mutant like the both of you. I left the Brotherhood today because I..." The young cat frowns slightly, "...I have crossed paths with your X-men before. I need a place that is safe to stay." He shrugs, "Regan will be pissed and most likely start the search to kill me." Tristan stands up and leaps into the air going into a back flip, and lands on the other side of the gate. He looks between the bars at the kids, "So...what do you say, Sport?" Shane's growl deepens, the snowball flying out of his hand and towards Tristan -- /remarkably/ faster and harder than it should be able to throw it and startlingly accurate considering he's intercepting someone spinning in midair. His other hand has slipped into his pocket. "I say you call me fucking /Sport/ again and my teeth will be in your goddamn neck, you condescending prick. I can't imagine why anyone would want to kill you." “Shane...” Lia sounds wary and a little frightened at all of this talk, her voice barely breaking a whisper. “He sounds like a movie. Is he from a movie? Why are people wanting to...they are /not/ supposed to hurt and kill here. Not here. It is supposed to be a secret. Safe. Safe secret.” She has started to shiver a little, rooted in place behind the smaller boy. As the snowball smacks him in the back, before he lands, Tristan's eyes shift instantly to the cat-eye yellow. He crouches down, and a guttural growl escapes his lips. His right leg extending outward, to balance him while he brushes the snow off his back. The boy takes a soothing breath as he controls his anger, and his eyes shift back to baby blue again. "Listen Fish Boy. I was trying to be nice. I told you I am not here to hurt any of you. Now go run along and get an X-man for me." He leans against the gate, his eyes looking at Lia. His features soften as he says, "Sorry if I sound a bit...stereotypical. I haven't had much experience with other mutants...well besides the Brotherhood. I'm really not gonna hurt him...or you. I am sure by now your telepaths have detected me and are doing something about it. So I can wait here." He smiles a bit more, "like I promised." "He sounds like a raging fucking dickbag -- seriously do they teach you this crap at /villain school/?" But the sharp black claws at the ends of Shane's webbed fingers are slightly retracting, when Tristan apologizes. He doesn't move from in front of Lia, though, pulling himself up to his full (incredibly diminutive) height and still keeping a wary eye on Tristan. "Don't worry, /bro/. I already got one." 'It's fine,' he's signing, now, to Lia, rather than saying aloud. 'He's not going to hurt you. And he only sounds like a /bad/ movie anyway.' "Villain?" Lia's eyes widen further, if possible, her voice raising for just that one word. "Is he a bad guy?" She has to tug off her mittens when signing happens, snowballs toppling to the ground as her own hands start flying through her responses. 'If he is a bad guy then he /wants/ to hurt us. Do we need to fight him? Should I throw snowballs?' Oops. Mostly broken snowballs. 'Should I be a statue? I can be a statue. We have them close. Close. Close on the grounds. In the gardens. They hit hard. Of all the things. I had to hit. The statues hurt the worst.' As he watches the two with a smirk, "You guys move faster than I do with that..." He grins like a Cheshire Cat again, "But no I am not a villain...I just have...had different beliefs. I don't sound like...a movie was that?" He cocks his head head to the side, "Statues...DUDE! You can make the Statue move. No way that's amazing." Tristan crosses his arms over his chest, "But if Fish Boy throws another snowball at me. It's on like Donkey Kong." "In a creepy fucking Weeping Angel kind of way -- I don't know if he's a bad guy I think he's just an annoying one," Shane decides, in a small /grump/. His chin lifts at Tristan's last words. His lips twitch, a small-crooked smile. "-- I'm thinking definite snowballs." He stoops to the ground to pack one, swiftly. Throw it just as swiftly. "My name's /Shane/." "Not a villain or a bad guy?" Lia's dark little brows knit in deepening confusion. "You are both talking in angry words. Why is he talking about video games? He sounded like a movie and now it is video games." Her gaze darts back and forth between the two boys. "Do we... Snowballs will help? We need snowballs?" She quickly dips several times, collecting what remains of her discarded snowballs without taking her eyes off the stranger. An evil grin crawls across the boy's face, as he crouches down and begins to quickly pack his own snowballs. His eyes locked on the duo on the other side of the fence. Tristan's pupils expand like a cat's when they are about to hunt, as he brings up his left hand with the palm up. He beckons Shane with a Chinese accent, "Yew thank yew ca taka me wittle boy?" "We need /hella/ snowballs, Lia, we need like an /arsenal/ of fucking snowballs. Snowballs like they're going outta /style/." Shane is stooping to scoop up another, packed looser, hastily, but aimed for Tristan's face. "Oh-ho-/ho/ is it shitty racial stereotypes time now? Is that like a villain school thing too, /damn/ you guys think of everything. Yeah, pussycat, I think we got this." Lia is /on/ the snowball packing, making quick-tight little projectiles with her small hands and piling them up or handing them off to Shane as possible. "That is /racist/!" She somehow still manages to sound shocked at the stranger's behaviour. "I thought you said he was /not/ a villain? Now he is a villain again. Are you sure I should not be a statue?" There's a quiet thrum in the air, a brief shadow overhead that drops down rapidly towards the ground. Jax just leaving to go /home/ already -- that much is clear, because he's coming from /away/ from the school and not towards the mansion. He's coming from overhead, too -- perhaps not all /that/ unusual for Mutant School. What /is/ unusual is that he's riding on a giant metallic blue /dragonfly/, saddled up with the name 'Sugar' stitched into her riding gear. He is bundled up warm and snug against the cold, shiny metallic-silver jacket and tall stompy silver boots, rainbow scarf wound around and around his neck, black crushed-velvet skirt worn over silver-and-blue mermaid-scale patterned leggings. Huge mirror-lensed sunglasses. Metallic blue makeup. Sugar lands quickly and Jax's attention is /first/ on the Xavierites, looking them up and down with a worried press of teeth to lower lip. "Shane, Lia, y'aright? -- /what/ is -- goin' -- on here." is his first question, in a /thick/-heavy Southern drawl. It starts out worried but is shifting into something akin to bewildered as he takes in -- snowball fight. His next is to Tristan, quietly /polite/ if reserved: "Can I help you?" As he cocks an eyebrow looking over Dragonfly, he stands up in one fluid motion looking at her. Tristan looks between Shane and Lia unsure of what to say, before you looks at Jax finally getting out, "You're an X-man aren't you?" He looks back in the mount's direction and takes a deep breath to make sure it is her, "I'm Lynx. I ummm...I am here to ask you guys to hide me from the Brotherhood. I left it today and...well I think they might try and force me back or kill me for leaving." He looks back at the insect in shock and asks, "How do you have her here? She didn't belong to you." He seems to have lost all interest in the snowball right now looking back at Jax a bit more intently now. "He's a cocky little shit," Shane fills in (with a /toothy/ sharp grin whose cockiness suggests he isn't /un/aware of the hypocrisy in this statement), "who came strutting over the damn wall instead of using the gate like everyone else." He does drop his next snowball pretty much straightaway when Jax arrives, straightening up and dusting his hands off to, instead, sling an arm around Lia. Almost casually if not for the way his tensed muscles make it somewhat protective. "We were about to do battle. -- And she's a living creature, dude, she doesn't /belong/ to anyone. Do you, Sugar?" After a moment of consideration he adds to Lia: "I think he might be like, a /were/-villain? Villain shifter. Sometimes villain, sometimes not. And you don't ever want to catch him in Crinos." Lia drops her snowball stockpile /again/ when Jax appears. "Mister Fairyjax!" She sounds simultaneously excited and /relieved/, somehow. "Mister Fairyjax, there is a /movie villain/. He tried to break in over the gate and said people would come to hurt and kill and I /think/ he is a /racist/." It's been terrible, really. Tristan earns an indignant look from the girl for the accusations surrounding Sugar. "This is Sugar's /home/. She likes it here and we are nice to her and she lets me pet her sometimes." She leans just a little into Shane's grip, her own tense muscles starting to relax a little. "I like your leggings. Are you a mermaid today?" "An' I'm sure you was the /picture/ of politeness, right, honey-honey." Jax isn't actually looking at Shane. Maybe he doesn't need to, he can /feel/ the cocky grin anyway. His hand lifts to scratch underneath Sugar's head; the dragonfly butts gently up against him as he does. "Shane's right, though, she don't belong t'nobody. But she do live with me, an' I take care'a her. -- Racist?" For some reason out of all of the accusations slung around /this/ is the one that stops him short, brows furrowing in deep puzzlement. "I -- was feelin' a little mermaidy, yeah. Why should the pups get all the merperson fun?" He lifts his hand, scrubbing mittened knuckles against his cheek. "How about we don't do no battles jus' right now an' instead I take y'in to talk t'the Professor?" As he bends down, and sweeps up his backpack, Tristan says, "The bald dude in a wheel chair? Perfect!" In a single leap, Tristan clears the wall and lands with ease on the ground in a controlled *thud*. He gets a levelled look at Shane and Lia for the first time before he looks over at Sugar. He cocks his head to the side, "I am not sure if you remember me. I knew Thea...I saw you before..." He falls silent as his hair falls into his face as he sighs softly before walking to Jax and extends his hand, "My real name is Tristan Kitsch. Nice to meet you. You're not one of the X-men I have come across before. Are you new?" Curious little cat, "Should I not stare at the Professor Dude?" He looks over at Lia and says, "Not a racist. I was joking." He rolls his eyes and looks back at Jax, "Lead the way...totally." Shane just takes a step back, arm still hooked around Lia to hold her close. "I'm a trendsetter there. I'm a mermaid /every/-damn-day." His grin is quick and easier, now. His arm drops from around Lia finally, head jerking back towards the trees. "Come on. I don't even want to /think/ how many fucking snowballs Taylor's got by now." "Jokes are not funny when they are mocking and mean. Shane is not even Chinese. Did you know not all Asian people are from China?" Because, clearly, everyone looking at Shane gets 'Asian' at first glimpse and not 'blue'. Lia's head shakes in /clear/ disapproval. "Staring is rude, too." Once this has been expressed, however, her eyes /light/. "You /are/ a mermaid! B was going to swim with me when it is not too cold anymore. Do you want to swim, too?" The girl /does/ remember to offer a parting wave to Jax before she is lead back to snow-battle. Jax's head turns, watching the two students head back off into battle. His attention turns back to Tristan afterwards, and he rests one hand on the pommel of Sugar's saddle, nodding back towards the school. The dragonfly is still tucked up close to him, a little bit skittish in her sidestep half-behind him, as if his much smaller frame could do anything to hide her huge one. His other hand extends to grasp Tristan's, firm and brief for one quick shake. "Jax." A quick amused smile touches his lips. "T'ain't gen'rally considered polite t'stare at /anyone/, really. C'mon." He gestures for Tristan to go ahead of him, down the drive and towards the mansion. As he shrugs, Tristan does as he is told moving a few steps a head of Jax as he makes his way towards the mansion. His eyes shift to that Cat-eye yellow as he tilts his head, "There must be at least 50 people in there." He begins to sniff the air, "And someone knows how to bake cookies." He places a hand on his flat stomach, to hide the grumble. He turns to look at Jax as his eyes shift back to baby blue, "It's hard to tell with all the background noise and the scents are starting to mesh as we get closer." The apples in his cheeks begin to flush, "Sorry...yeah my bad." He adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as he falls silent as he begins to walk in silence.