10273/Holiday homies hanging out.

Holiday homies hanging out.
Date of Scene:	01 December 2019
Location:	Andrea's Room (East Halls), Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Andrea tells her closest friends about The New Mutants. It didn't go the way she planned. Now she wishes she kept her mouth shut.
Cast of Characters:	Rage, Dragonfly (Armenteros), Haunt, Hindsight

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Rage has posed:
Having sent out a group text to these particular three students, Andrea is waiting in her room, dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a haltertop. She has some light music playing in the background as well, a little bit of old school Metallica. Of Wolf and Man.

She has the curtains open to let the sunshine in, even though it's cold and white outside. She has some left over holiday snacks on her desk as well in the form of cookies and candy of all sorts. Between Halloween and Thanksgiving, it's sugar for days.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Getting into the girl's side of the dorms is relatively easy during the day for guys. For Gwendolyn, since she lives here, it's merely a case of getting out of her pajamas and into something more decent and walking the six doors down to Andrea's room, but she takes an extra step, wandering over to the boy's side to fetch Brad. Text messages probably don't work too well for the blind kid, after all, and since he was on it, she thought it might be best to see if he needed a hand making it over.

"Andrea?" Gwendolyn calls, peeking into the familiar room, her visor protecting against the brightness. "What's up?"

Haunt has posed:
Brad is in tow behind Gwendolyn, with a Coke in hand. Mostly. He's in his most 'common' attire visually: meaning, he is a floating set of clothes that appears headless and handless. There's usually a general comedy to observing Brad come down a hallway: the red sweatshirt and dark thick pants, sneakers, and in this case, also floating sunglasses, of the otherwise invisible teenager. He comes along to stop just in the hall, to add a call of, "Hi," from behind Gwendolyn. His voice is amiable and friendly, and also designates his age as some middle-teen boy.

Hindsight has posed:
    Nathaniel comes in right behind the pair, dressed in a colorfully striped shirt and light jeans. "Hey, everyone," His hair has been styled in a way that's supposed to look casual but took some time to get right. Hence his lateness. He gives a little wave, revealing a rather advanced pair of black gloves with a top-of-the-line fit that go past his wrists.

Rage has posed:
Glancing upwards, Andrea gives a grin at the group. "Come on in guys." She calls out to them, lifting her hand and gives a wave. She motions to the snacks as well. "I got food over here if you're interested. Happy December 1st. Only twenty-four more days to ripping open presents and getting plastered on apple cider." She says teasingly. "How are you guys doing?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
The room is bright, with the curtains opened up. Normally, this would be blinding but, thanks to the goggles, it's a normal sort of day for Gwendolyn. "Thanks, but no thanks." She says, lifting a hand to wave off the offered food. "Jubilee had me run for like three miles yesterday to burn off the calories I took in Thanksgiving and the day after. I might take one or two, but nothing like the plate I had the other day."

Her thighs /still/ ache from all that running!

"I'm doing fine, all things considered. Soreness aside." Gwendolyn settles down on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, giving her a view of the room and, more importantly, a window to her back so she's not dazzled as much. Dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a light sweater, she crosses one leg over the other and kicks idly, watching Brad or, rather, Brad's Clothes, do what they will, and giving Nate a wave. "What's up?"

Haunt has posed:
A ripple of strange breeze, a psychosomatic tremor, ripples through the room. Loose objects tremble, the snacks rattle a little bit, lamps act as if they were bumped. It's similar to as if a small poltergeist ran throughout the room suddenly, the passage of a ghost.

Though in reality, Brad's just doing his thing, and trying to determine where those snacks were. "I'm okay. Cold," Brad's voice observes idly, folding his arms some. His disembodied clothes steer towards the snacks, the Coke twirling a little in the air as he fiddles with it. "What snacks?" he wonders.

And then some curiosity is aimed towards the other guy in the room. "I'm Brad. Hi." There's a prompting hopefulness there, an unsaid 'and you are?' in it.

Hindsight has posed:
    Nathaniel claims a plate of snacks and drops on Andrea's bed. "I'm good. Not excited to be going back to classes this week," he says, protecting his cookies from toppling over against Brad's little telekinetic push. "Um. I think these gingerbread men might be coming to life, girl," He says to the pop starlet, before his eyes wander to the set of floating clothing. He benevolently holds out a cookie in offering, "I'm Nathaniel. You're the kid that hijacked Andrea in the Rec Room?"

    Unless there are other invisible kids in the school which is totally a possibility. Paired with telekinesis, it doesn't seem likely. He doesn't comment on gift-giving. More years than not, it just wasn't a reality for him.

Rage has posed:
"Hijacked." Andrea laughs at the analogy. "Made me float about, yeah. I have Christmas cookies and left overs from Halloween. Lots of peanutbutter cups." She says to Brad in regards to snacks on the table.

"Thanks for coming over and hanging out. I sorta wanted to talk to you three about something, seeing how we're all friends now and hanging in the same circles. I know this was brought up before mostly by accident, but I figure I can go into a more deeper conversation about it."

"I kinda wanna bring up the New Mutants group here on campus."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"What, that club that you and Shannon and Cannonball are in? Is this like the Xavier Mansion 'secret society' that secretly pulls the strings about who gets into what class and keeps the traditions of the past alive, or something." There are judicious uses of air quotes as Gwendolyn says all of this, mind you, and her tone is more sing-song than serious. As far as she knew, the New Mutants were just another club, like Glee Club.

Haunt has posed:
The gingerbread men promptly stand 'up' on their feet on the platter, as if alarmed at being caught laying down on the job. Brad accepts the cookie that is extended to him with his free invisible hand, and then proceeds over towards the cozy rug on the floor, back to the fireplace: he had mentioned he was cold.

"There is no hijacking of Andrea, I leave that entirely to Jay," Brad says serenely. The head of his gingerbread man suddenly disappears as he bites it off, leaving his ginger-man as headless as Brad appears.

"I remember this. Heroic stuff. I claimed the name 'Vision', after ... Vision of the Avengers. Naturally," Brad says, similarly joining in Gwen's playful tone. "But I'd give it up if you wanted it, Gwen," he offers up and aside to her 'kindly', with a gesture of decapitated ginger-man.

Hindsight has posed:
    "What's that?" Nathaniel asks, biting down on a cookie. He listens to Gwendolyn, as she explains it, and chuckles at her description. "That sounds a little elitist, don't ya think?" He looks at the floating cookie-men on his plate, and smirks at Brad. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with food?

    He looks at Andrea, with a more somber look. "Oh. Superhero stuff. I don't know. Is there spandex involved?"

Rage has posed:
There is a bit of a facepalm from Andrea. "No, the New Mutants are not a secret society at all. Geez, Gwen." She plucks a cookie up and takes a bite from it.

"The New Mutants is a small, handpicked group of students who work together in the training of their powers in what we consider next level curriculum. What that means is that on top of our normal studies, we also have courses in combat both offensive and defensive, team tactics and control. As mutants, the world is quite harsh on us and until things change, we need to know how to protect ourselves and each other. On top of that, the New Mutants serve as role models for the younger students and ambassadors."

"We also wear tactical uniforms. Black and gold." With that, Andrea heads to her closet and takes it out to show them. They're fashionable enough, still look superheroey. No capes.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn giggles softly at Brad's offer for her to take the name instead. "Vision would fit you better than me, Brad. It's not the first thing someone thinks when they see me in the flesh, as it were. I'd go with something based on my wings or eyes, if I had to have a code name." She turns to Andrea at the facepalm. "Well, you're secretive!" Gwendolyn protests playfully. "What else /could/ it be?" Apparently, she's informed what else it exactly is over the next few moments.
To her credit, Gwendolyn is silent through the whole explanation, though, turning to watch as the yellow and black uniform is taken out of it's little hiding spot in the back corner of the wardrobe, not speaking just yet, more thinking. No questions just yet. "So." She finally says, reaching over to pluck a gingerbread arm from the one Brad is munching, dismembering the poor thing just a little more as she pops the limb into her mouth. "Small, handpicked group." She looks to Nathaniel, then Brad - sorta - then at herself. "Role model, I could be, but learning all this..." She shakes her head, her hair fluttering. "You're serious, right?"

Haunt has posed:
"Yes, but there's a loophole, Nate," Brad replies. The gingerbread cookies turn as if to regard Nathaniel as well. "It is 'do not play with my own food'," Brad describes. "Of which I am not. That is /your/ food, of which I possess free rein to puppet." He does relent: the cookies fall over 'dead.' It isn't difficult to call Brad off. "Hey, my arm," Brad 'complains' at Gwen, then hands her a cookie leg as well.

Brad instead works on taking in what Andrea's telling them. And trying to show them, there's a telekinetic flutter at the garment. Jumpsuit, it seems. "I don't know about this, it feels like 'Fight club'," Brad says, a frown in his voice. "Combat Club. I'll just ....get beaten to shit: I'm blind." Brad jiggles his sneakers a little, then falls silent and stops moving. His mood is hard to detect, as he's quiet, and his body language isn't betraying much. "I mean, I'm sort of flattered it's that easy to forget about me, but. Obviously I can't."

Hindsight has posed:
    "I feel like I'm witnessing an un-cowling," remarks Nathaniel, watching Andrea show them her hero uniform. He sets the plate of dead cookies to the side and pads over to her, brows lifting and in search of unspoken permission. If he gets it, he lifts the costume by the sleeve. "Popstar by day, mutant superheroine by night. You are full of surprises, Andrea Jackson."

    He cants his head to the side, frowning pensively. "As amazing as I know I'd look in spandex, I'm not really capable of protecting anybody with my powers, or particularly interested in casually using them," He pauses, scrutinizing. "This thing change when you change?"

Rage has posed:
"I'm not giving any of you an invitation." Andrea says rather bluntly. "Not yet. You three are still new to the school, but you're also my friends, and you're friends with those who are on the team." She says, finally coming to terms with that word. "This is not a fight club. We don't beat the crap out of each other in the backyard. We have something way cooler than  that. The reason why I'm telling you this, is because there are days that I may come home hurt, or Shannon, or Samuel, or Megan." She says to them.

"And this is not spandex." Andrea says with a soft laugh. "This fabric is designed out of unstable molecules so that it does shift with me and adds some extra armor and durability if need be. I even have these in a pair of shorts for when I go out and they're under my pants."

"The point is, this school is not just about math and science. It's also about becoming the best versions of ourselves. That way, when we're out in the real world and a Sentinel attacks us, or the Friends of Humanity attacks us, we can defend ourselves, the right way, with control, so we can get out of those situations without hurting someone too badly, or ourselves. Does that make sense?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Not getting an invitation into the club is both frustrating and relieving, if someone were to ask Gwendolyn outright. That's a good thing, though - something that needs to be earned instead of given. Something that requires a bit more effort than just being a Mutant. It makes a strange sort of sense, really. "If you offered now, I don't think I'd accept, Andrea. I mean...look at us. Brad's blind and invisible, I can barely fly, and Nathaniel can't touch anything bare handed without seeing what happened based off of that object. Or something. I don't know your powers, exactly, Nathaniel, but I know it was something to do with looking into the past, like me."

She gives Nathaniel a small smile and then turns to the heap of clothes studying the unstable molecule uniform, then back to Andrea. "I'm sure everyone wonders why you guys show up hurt every once in a while. You do a good job keeping the reasons quiet, but...Brad's right. We're no-where near ready to do anything like that. At least...I don't think we are."

Haunt has posed:
"We're not invited. Just this is a thing that you do. Okay." Brad has a drink of his Coke (probably, the motion of the coke can in the air suggests it), and then chews on the torso of his gingerbread man.

"I didn't notice you were injured. Sorry. Can't see it." Brad deadpanned it, sort of a joke, but sort of not. He just didn't know.

"Seems overly dangerous. But I guess if you get attacked a lot, then yeah, self defense is logical. But tactical suits feels like you're going out looking for it?" Brad asks.

Hindsight has posed:
    "It looks like spandex," Nathaniel points out, eyes darting up to look at Andrea. His brows come together in clear concern, at the idea that his friends would just turn up battered and bruised. "Look. I came to this school because my parents effectively kicked me out. I...I don't want to fight purple robots or hate groups. If I wanted to do the latter, I would have just stayed in Texas."

    He chuckles humorlessly and shrugs, giving Gwen a look that says 'me neither'. Then, to Andrea: "I don't like the thought of you guys going out and getting injured, though. Teachers are involved, I hope?"

Rage has posed:
"I'm not injured right now and it's been awhile since I was injured. The purpose, is to protect ourselves when and if the bad guys do decide to attack us outside in the streets. The school itself is a secret to the world. No one knows it's a school for mutants and we try very hard to keep it that way." Andrea says as she takes another bite of her cookie as she lays the uniform out on the bed.

"The uniforms are designed for when we are practicing together here at the school. That way we don't ruin our actual clothing you know? Accidents do happen and I'm not about to lose a pair of hundred dollar jeans over it. Also, when I do shift, my clothing tears apart and I end up naked. So...these things are a blessing for me. I won't end up on TMZ with my ass hanging out in the middle of Times Square."

"I am a public face mutant. My concerts have been attacked before. You can look it up on the news. The Avengers once came and saved my butt. I've also been shot in the chest with a sniper rifle. I've been stabbed all the way through with a sword by a guy named Pierce, who is what they call a Reaver. Half Man. Half Cyborg. In general, there are assholes out there that hates mutants and those of us who are public or have mutations." She motions to Gwen. "We become targets."

"Mister Guthrie is our team leader. He's in charge of our development and work outs. He's done a great job actually. He goes by the name of Cannonball. I go by the name of Rage. It suited me at the time."

"If you guys ever want to attend a work out and see us in action, I can talk to Sam for you guys. I know it won't mean much for you yet, Brad, but when you get your sight back, you of all people I think may be interested. You potentially are one of the most powerful students here. Once everything is fixed you know."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
There's a lot to unpack there.

The uniform conversation is noted but not commented upon - she doesn't shift, and judicious use of slits in the back of her shirts mean her wings come out fairly easily without shredding her clothes. Short sleeves tend to help with the spines on her arms, too, but somethign that works with them instead of having to be modified to be used with them could be helpful.

When she mentions becoming a target, Gwen shrinks down a little. "You know I came from a world that would make me a target the second it was known I was a mutant." her voice is quiet, Gwen pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. "I may not have made it known, but the person that adopted me was a rabid anti-mutant type. I ran because, if I didn't, I would have been made an example of keeping the bloodline pure and would /definitely/ not be talking to you right now." She lets that hang for a moment, the implication evident.

"I don't even know my limits of what I can do. I probably can't even throw a decent punch, so I don't know what good I'd do, even being a part of the team." She sighs, letting her head flop back, looking up at the ceiling. "I'll come watch a workout, sure."

Haunt has posed:
"Gwen?" Brad asks gently, as she folds inwards, his touch by her toes, hesitant. He can sense her stress. And his own is mounting.

The room is starting to rattle. Brad's getting agitated: and there is no warning. Normally warnings would show up visually, as expressions change, and a reaction is easier to gauge. Brad's emotions spill into the environment as his way of expressing himself manifests. He can't show it on his face, and so it's all around in the room. Snacks are going to float, dresser doors opening, floating items in the bathroom: it's not severe, but it quickly could become a psychokinetic storm if allowed to grow.

And Brad does know it. "Sorry. I'm not fixed. I don't know that I'll ever be 'fixed' enough. I mean. Shit. Sorry about ...this crap," Brad says, embarrassed, aware of the objects. He gets up from the floor, and beats a very rapid retreat. The effects go with him, the rattling and telekinetic swaying will stop as he takes his zone of emotional storm out of range of Andrea's belongings.

Hindsight has posed:
    "I wouldn't mind checking you guys out," Nathaniel offers. "but yeah, the stuff you just mentioned? All reasons why I don't think I'd ever want to join this team. I'm not a coward, or at least, I don't consider myself one. It's just not the hand I've been dealt. I would just slow you guys down." He puts on a self-deprecating grin, raking gloved fingers through his hair.

    "There go the gingerbread men," He comments, tensing as Andrea's room turns into a scene from a ghost horror movie. "I'll get more." His phone chimes, and he mumbles something about having to take this, using that and snack finding as an excuse to get some air.

Rage has posed:
Reaching out to snag a cookie in mid air, Andrea pulls it to her lap as she watches Brad head off with some concern. "You will though." She says with a furrow of her brow. "You're making amazing progress already after a short time."

Looking to Gwen, she says, "I didn't know how to throw a punch either, and I'm sure Shannon still sucks in most hand to hand combat situations, but it's our talents that make each scenario unique. Either way, there is nothing wrong in knowing how to take care of yourself if the worst ever happens. If the worst never comes, then at least you got great exercise out of it and some extra confidence."

She lifts a hand to wave to Nathan, then leans in to bump her shoulder against Gwen's. "The best part though? Is finding your limits and then trying to push past it in a healthy and safe environment. At the end of the day though, it really is fun and I do enjoy the workouts and the chance to use my powers in a way that's not fetching a ball."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"It's okay. It's okay." Gwendolyn's voice is quiet, her hand reaching out, blindly, for Brad, finding his sleeve and grabbing on, pulling him a little closer to her so she just has closeness with the other person, hoping that her being near will give him an anchor to hang on to and her one to hang on to, too. "It's not something I really...let out. A girl in a mutant school who's family would have hung her from the highest branch isn't good copy." It really sounds like she's ashamed of it.

She looks over to Brad, then off to Nathaniel as he leaves, then back to Andrea. "We'd all be better if we were fixed, Andrea. If I could go out without an imager. If Brad could use his eyes and his powers at the same time. It's just the way it is. We're working on getting better. It's all we can do, after all." She gives Brad a squeeze on the arm. "I don't mind stretching my powers at all. I'm working on it with my wings and endurance. Just...being on a team?" She shakes her head. "I'm not ready. I know I'm not ready."

She looks down. "I'm sorry."

Haunt has posed:
While there was some lingering as Gwen reaches for him, and hesitancy about pulling away, Brad's creating a mess with his powers in the room, and he doesn't have an answer about stopping that except to flee. He did pat her hand though.

"We're not invited anyhow; not good enough," Brad sighs. The trembling starts to get worse. The depression over not being good enough, because he's blind: it's difficult to take. "Sorry about the room." Because of the mess. Brad is being a walking pigpen. But he really goes this time, to try to breathe and stop the telekinetics.