Logs:Date? Interrupted

Date? Interrupted
Dramatis Personae Harm, Naomi, The M-kids	before the valentine's dance You brought the preppies? (part of X-games TP.)
Location <XAV> Boys' Bathroom - Xs Second Floor
Bright and clean, this bathroom is designed for communal use. Toilets and sinks to one side, showers on the other. The shower stalls are wide, designed with space inside for hanging clothes and changing. The sinks have, by habit, had space claimed by them with people's own personal toiletries, a small basket of goods here, a toothbrush and toothpaste there, a large overflowing basket there, name tags appended to all of them. The biggest wars seem to be over shower space, mornings a constant battle over claiming stalls first. The air is thick with cologne and body spray, even though most of the people applying said perfumes have already evacuated to take pictures by the fountain or on the school's grand staircase with their friends and dates. In the wastebin a few bottles of AXE have been discarded, empty, and a veeeery fancy cologne in one boy's toiletry bag is much less full than he left it. Probably Naomi would be getting a lot more flack for being in here if anyone was around who cared -- but nobody is. She's plopped her makeup bag on the counter while she works on Harm's eyeliner. Her own makeup is all done but for the lipstick -- shimmery lavender eyeshadow dusted over her eyes, the shape of brows outlined in carefully placed glue-on silver gems on top of her freshly polished face scales. Her dress -- a strapless glittery dark purple bodice, dark purple skirt covered in a layer of black tulle that goes to the floor -- might be familiar as one of last year's graduating senior's hand-me-downs, but her jewelry is all hers -- silver and black rings, faux-emerald necklace, and glittery plastic-diamond dangly earrings. Her locs are twisted and pinned up, a clip with a silver leaf holding the up-do in place. The outfit exposes the growing extent of Naomi's shoulder scales, beginning to cover the tops of her arms as well as line the edges of her shoulderblades. With another brush of black ink over Harm's eyelid, Naomi seems satisfied and peels the barely adhesive tape off Harm's face with her (press-on) silver nails and steps back, the heels of her shoes clacking on the bathroom tile. Tape removed, the lines of ink leading from Harm's eyes are sharp and crisp. "Okay, open -- if you don't like it I got Q-Tips I can fix it right up." She bites nervously at her lip. "I know long liner's a bit femme but it ain't hard to make it short again 's the other way that's hard." Harm is hesitant opening their eyes, not quite trusting the chemical magic of the eyeliner to have dried it just yet. But then they do and blink at their reflection, neutral for a moment then resolving into a smile. "Oh, no I really like that!" They're wearing a loose shanku in a rich purple brocade with chimerical qilin and fanciful clouds, the cuffs and collars ornately trimmed in red, gold and black, carrying a newish black crossbody bag with no patches or embroidery or trailing yarns (yet). They may have been slow to decide but, once decided, they're bouncing up and down just a little. "Thank you so much! I'm so bad at this, but it looks so good when it's done right!" They turn their smile on Naomi. "So, lipstick and then we go make everyone else look bad?" There hasn't been anyone else in here and yet, the door that is opening now is not the door back out to the hall but one of the toilet stall doors -- pushed just enough for a face, brown skin and chubby cheeks and big wide eyes all afret with worry behind a green and silver mask, to peer out. Though the door isn't cracked far, keen eyes might note that the toilet stall is definitely not behind the door anymore; there's a faint chill wind coming from back there that smells of damp earth and pine trees. "Psst," whispers the teen behind the door, "hi-again-can-you-come-with-me," tumbles out in an urgent rush. "Lipstick!" Naomi repeats, smiling as she turns back to her kit. "I got mostly darker colors but I think with the purple a dark red aint gon' wash you out none." A few tubes clatter on the counter as Naomi appraises her collection. She's about to dig for more when the stall door opens. "Gon' make everyone wish they were cool as us -- Doors?" There's an inflection on the word that suggests that this is, somehow, meant to be an identifying name. "Shit I mean -- what are you doing here?" Naomi is stepping just a bit back from the counter, looking from the masked teen to Harm with wide-wide eyes. Harm looks over the lipstick tubes and pokes thoughtfully at a purple, but then give a quiet start at the stir of mention from the stalls. "Whoa! Hi!" Their smile returns quick, then fades quickly once more. "Is something wrong? Do you need help?" They're already moving toward the stall, catching at Naomi's arm to pull her along. "If someone is hurt, I can -- I'm a -- healer." "Wow-you-all-look-amazing," the other teenager is poking their head further out the door, now. "I feel underdressed now -- oh no oh no yes I know Nevaeh's already seen you do it so you have to come, right?" Their words are slowing down a little, but not much -- they're stopping for a breath, stopping to beckon the others through their no-longer-a-toilet-stall door. "Brendan's in trouble Nahida didn't want to leave him but you can help right please say you can help." Naomi is not resisting the tug at her arm, but the way she's worrying at her lip is enough to convey her apprehension. "Harm can -- but --" a glance to the door to the rest of the school, a worried look at her phone tucked into her makeup bag. "Imma come too," she declares, shifting her arm so she is holding onto Harm instead. Pulls the door the masked kid is peering through just a little more open. Harm's eyes are wide and worried, but they nod jerkily. "Yeah, yeah we'll help!" They don't seem very fussed who's holding whom, though they do kind of shrink closer to Naomi as they get to the stall door. They only hesitate briefly, then forges on through with a hushed, "Where is this?" "Thank goodness," the fretting youth heaves out a relieved sigh and waves Naomi and Harm through, closing the toilet stall door behind them. Today they do not have any cape -- just the mask paired with jeans, sneakers, a brightly multicolored sweater. The door, once closed, is that of a rustic-looking log cabin, a carved wooden sign out front reading PINE HAVEN. Around them the air is fresh and brisk, the gibbous moon illuminating a heavily forested mountainside spilling down around them, some town nestled in glittering lights far below. "Oh! Well, this is actually -- it's just a good place to -- I used to crash here a lot when I was -- it's the mountains," they settle on. "Now please don't freak out we might be a little bit going to jail but I swear he didn't do anything bad we were just out in Ohio have you been to Ohio you should not go and these racist jerks --" It's about here that they open the door again, this time -- into a jail cell, tiny and single and adjoining a small office space, well-lit but currently empty. There are posters on the wall -- a stern lion exhorting children not to do drugs, a man behind the wheel of a car looking distraught at the horrifying mangled corpse beside him ("One drink and you're a real lady killer",) a photograph of a police officer reading to a group of beaming children, a photograph of that same officer playing basketball with several Black youth -- actually, the photographs around somewhat give the impression that the man is this town's only police officer. On the single cot in the cell is, presumably, Brendan, face beaded with sweat and somewhat screwed up against the pain. Kneeling beside him, Nahida is currently holding one of their green and silver capes -- somewhat dark with blood -- against the boy's leg. "-- Alhamdulillah, Sriyani, did you --" Nahida is looking up with some relief that turns rapidly to puzzlement when she spies the elegantly-dressed X-Kids. "You brought the preppies? You were supposed to get help who knows where they're going to take him what are they dressed as? Those are really impractical mission outfits." She's looking over Harm and Naomi anxiously. "Neveah already saw us here I'm sure we wouldn't have gone for them if they couldn't help, right? Right. This one's a healer," Sriyana is gesturing to Harm, "and the pretty naga was here too, so -- I think," they're confiding to their teammate, "that I interrupted a date. Can you help?" Naomi is maaaaaaybe already a little bit freaking out as soon as Sriyani mentions jail, breathing speeding just a touch up as they step from school to log cabin to wherever the hell Ohio. Is not really listening to Nahida's frustrations, instead going just a little pale at the blood darkening through the cape. "Oh no," comes out soft, her grip on Harm tightening before she lets go. "What happened?" She glances down and bundles the skirt of her dress in front of her, self-conscious, but also looking with alarm at the empty office, trying to see if anyone is coming back this way. Harm blinks a few times in rapid succession at the sight of the same door opening onto completely different locations only a second apart. "It wasn't a..." They glance at Naomi, blushing suddenly. "...was it a date? I'm sorry this is probably not the best time --" Their eyes are very wide and their face bloodless, but they join Nahida at Brendan's side. "Sorry, I mean yes, I can. It's just not like instant, and I have to touch you, sorry..." Though they're looking at the injured leg -- what they can see of it -- they're reaching hesitantly for the boy's hand. They squeeze their eyes shut and set their jaw, but still cry out when their hand closes around Brendan's, clutching much too hard and then easing very slowly. Their other hand clamps down on the frame of the cot to keep them upright. Brendan's injury does not actually hurt any less, at first, but it's probably easier for Nehida to notice that the bleeding has almost immediately stopped. "Some dumbass hicks," Nahida replies with a brief scowl. She's not letting up the pressure on Brendan's leg -- not at first -- but her eyes do go wider, impressed, while Harm works. "It wasn't even a mutant thing they just saw Brendan by their car and -- we're in a very shoot-first-ask-questions-later part of the world, this is the last time I save any --" "Nahida," Sriyani is chiding, "it was not those kids' fault. We can't -- oh no oh no." These oh nos come as the police station door opens, dumping in one stocky middle-aged man -- unsurprisingly, the same one from the photographs -- in a uniform declaring him to be from the Put-in-Bay police department. His eyes have gone wide, too, when he sees that his prisoners have multiplied in his absence. "What the f-- how did you -- gonna need a bigger transport -- where did you --" His hand has dropped immediately to his gun, though he doesn't actually draw it, other hand instead grabbing his phone to fumble at its screen. "You mean hicks or racists cuz thems two different things -- No it weren't --" Naomi turns around from her post, frowning, "--did you want it t' be a date?" This is causing Naomi some additional stress, apparent in the way she's worrying at the inside of her cheek, the way her accent is slipping more rural Southern and less Regular City Yankee as the skin just under her scales begins to darken. "It ain't you I jus' -- I reckon it ain't right for me to --" At Sriyani's distress Naomi turns around again, hands gripping at the bars of the cell tightly. Her eyes widen as she looks from gun to phone to gun. The other kids can't see her eyes begin to glow, but when Naomi speaks they can hear the fear in her voice under the hissing susurration of her power. "'Hi, Officer, please put your phone on the desk. Your gun, too, please.'" Though Naomi is modulating her voice up, her accent down, and speaking oh so sweetly, the coil of her power around the officer's free will is tight. "'What charges are my friends being held on?'" "Hi Brendan. I'm Harm. I'm sorry this should hurt a little less soon." Harm shifts their hand under their patient's so they can brace their elbow on the cot and lean on it more fully. "Did the kids you were helping do this?" They look over at Naomi, and it's hard to tell whether they're startled by her question or just haven't stopped being startled by the entire situation. "Um I hadn't -- I didn't think you liked me...like that." They pause for a couple of slow, steady breaths. "Did you want it to --" If it was 'probably not the best time' before, it definitely isn't now, with the cop returned. "Oh gods oh gods," under their breath is about in time with Sriyani's "oh no oh no". Brendan has until this point mostly been focused on Looking Stoic, giving Harm only a small nod that is probably gratitude, albeit rendered somewhat curt by the tense clench of all his muscles. His hand twitches beneath Harm's tight grip, and he's starting to inch towards something a little more relaxed when Sriyani's oh no cuts through the pain. The cop, though, is -- evidently thinking better of calling these Additional Miscreants in. He's set down his phone, set down his gun, looking just a little confused as he does both these things. "Uh," he is slowly drifting across the room, further toward the cell. "Got a report that boy was trying to steal someone's truck -- how did the rest of you..." His question tapers off as he gets within clearer sight of the kids in the cell, his eyes locking on Naomi with something stuck between confusion and disbelief. "Is... was it a costume party down at the Lowells' tonight?" He sounds like he is Very Much Hoping the answer is yes. "Woah," soft beneath her breath, Nahida sounds awed at -- perhaps everything the X-Kids are doing. "Did you just -- woah. Can you, like, make him go take a long coffee break and forget we were here?" “'Can-we-do-this-later-please,'” Naomi whispers, the curl of her power around Harm’s mind much weaker than around the cop both by dint of how she phrased the question and the focus she is keeping on the Current Situation. Probably Harm might want to revisit this after they’re out of here! But just as likely they will not. “'Sure was!'” This comes perky and fake-cheerful and with an inexpert push at the cop’s mind, trying to get him to take this as Truth. “'I’m pretty sure this is all a big misunderstanding. You want to delete and destroy any paperwork you started about this, and then you want to delete any footage with us in it and turn off the cameras.'” Are there cameras? Naomi sounds a little unsure on this front, the confidence in her command wavering. “'And then you want — uh — you want a coffee. From down the road?'” "Oh yeah absolutely!" Is Harm's easy agreement a response to mind control or just relief to be out of a very awkward discussion they weren't expecting? Probably they're not worrying too much about it. As they promised, though, the pain in Brendan's leg is fading. The wound on the surface is still open and still raw under Nahida's hand and cape, and beneath there's a bone-deep throbbing ache, but growing more tolerable by the moment. Harm's breathing slows on its own now, where it had sounded so forced before. "If you can move now I think probably it would be good to get out of here?" This is kind of hushed, as if they're afraid the cop will defy Naomi to stop them. "I can heal it the rest of the way but I'll need breaks, and also I don't want to close it up before it's been cleaned." "H-u-uh," the cop is staring at Naomi a good moment longer, but then turns to head back to the desk and flick on the computer. "Oh, cameras haven't been on here since the Bensons did that little film for -- heyyy," he's saying, concerned now, "response boat's gonna be here soon to get you to the hospital, I don't think you should be going anywhere. I'll have this sorted, though, don'chu worry." "It's fine," Nahida is probably trying to be chirrupy as well but this comes out kind of strained, kind of teeth-gritted, as she slings an arm under Brendan's shoulders to help him to his feet. "We'll be fine! -- you all are lifesavers," softer under her breath, "sorry about your date." "Thanks," Brendan manages, struggling upward and limping along beside Nahida. Sriyani is not waiting for the police officer to make any further decisions but heading right to the cell door and sliding it open as if it were not very securely locked. Though the bemused officer can still be seen out the bars on one side, the other spills back out into the cluttered Xavier's dorm bathroom. "That is some trick," they whisper in an excited not-quite-hush to Naomi. "'No it's fine he was just clowning,'" Naomi insists, her voice getting tighter, "'you gon' have to apologize to them nice boat folks for us, okay?'" There is a bead of sweat curling down her back between her scales. "'Thank you so much sorry to cause trouble try to forget about this whole thing!'" She waits for everyone else to settle back inside the Xavier's bathroom before stepping through the doorway. "'Have a good evening!'" It's not till the door shuts firmly behind them that her eyes begin to dim, giving all of the M-kids plenty of time to see their unnatural emerald glow, the snake-like slits of her pupils before they return to normal. Well -- kind of normal: her green eyes go wide as she leans against the wall and sinks down against it, hugging her knees. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod --" Sucks in a huge breath, continues, "--ohmygodohmygodohmygod Harm I'm so sorry I ain't meant to control you too I couldn't let go I ain't ever strung that many at once before --" She is not crying! Naomi is not crying. She is only very slightly hyperventilating. Looking at Brendan's leg, counterintuitively, is calming her down. "D'you have a first aid kit in your room I can run and git." In a moment seems to be implied, as Naomi makes no move to get up from the floor. Harm looks vaguely like they want to take Brendan's other arm in this operation, but are just too wobbly on their own feet to pull it off, instead just trailing the others through the impossible doorway. Still stuck in Healer Mode, they go to Naomi's side when she sinks to the floor, though they don't actualy seem to know what to do once there. "You didn't control me! Wait, did you?" They didn't seem alarmed before, and though the worry is loading now they are very quickly distracted by Naomi's question. "I have a kit, but also we have an actual medical facility here! It's not a hospital," they add to the M-kids, "but Dr. McCoy could probably help with the pain which I can't, so much." They manage not to sound apologetic this time, at least. "If your...friend? Neveah? Said that we could help -- let us help." The door shuts firmly on the confusion of The Only Cop In Town, leaving them alone in the bathroom with one tiny wide-eyed sixth grader staring in the mirror before sloooowly fading out of view. Sriyani claps a hand to their mouth, stifling a little bit of an edged giggle at the middle schooler's reaction. "Oh -- oh," they're spilling back over into concern once the amusement has passed, looking between Harm and Naomi. "I'm so sorry for -- I didn't mean to mess up -- Thank you -- I don't know what we'd have -- you guys rock." They offer a hand back up -- to Naomi? To Harm? It's kind of extended between the two X-Kids. "Okay. If you think your teachers won't totally freak out let's get him to your medical not-a-hospital. Hopefully soon we can help you ag-- no, wait, oh no, I hope we don't ever need to." Did Naomi even notice the tweenager? "--it's freak school the hell he starin' at--" she's mumbling while her breathing slows to something that is just a normal amount of Freaked Out. There's the soft sound of scales shifting as Naomi furrows her brow, confused -- "Thought I did, did I -- not?" This exercise is possibly futile. Naomi's still frowning when she takes Sriyani's hand and gets off the floor (a gem from her forehead peeling off and going plink against the tile). Stumbles (her exhaustion winning, now, over the adrenaline) back to her makeup bag. Pulls out her phone. "I hope y'all don't need us anytime soon neither." Presses the panic button on it, then grabs the purple lipstick Harm was looking at earlier with her other hand. "Maybe next time we can actually get to the dance, first."