10306/Misinformation

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Misinformation
Date of Scene: 03 December 2019
Location: Jay and Brad's Room (West Halls), Xavier's School
Synopsis: Bean and Brad try to get on the same page about New Mutants membership, but Brad is a cactus emotionally.
Cast of Characters: Samuel Morgan, Haunt




Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There are things that must be done for the sake of the team, and in the name of common decency. Bean had his faults, a great catalogue of them, but one thing he did not toy with is the good name of his team, or the good running of it. Cooperation and team work were, ironically, sacrosanct to the student most often described as the most blatant lone wolf since Wolverine. And so, carrying a tray of goodies on his left hand, he has come to the door of someone who likely needs his help, and will hopefully take his advice. Taking a deep breath, and looking down quickly for a reassuring confirmation of Bear's presence, he knocks.

Haunt has posed:
There's a flutter of an unnatural breeze in the hallway, but nothing too interesting or abnormal.

"Jay's not here," Brad yells through the door. Assumption number one: person he doesn't recognize with a dog probably is looking for Jay, not for Brad. Brad still rolls over, climbing off his bed, and comes over to the door, on the inside, and waits to see what the visitor does.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Hey Brad, it's me, Bean. Could we have a word?"

    Well, this is not off to a good start, but at least he's not knocking on the door of an empty room. "And do you mind if Bear comes in as well?" He normally wouldn't ask the question, but he knows that Brad has his own service dog, and doesn't know how well they will interact.

Haunt has posed:
"Oh." Brad didn't think the visitor was for him. "Yeah, so long as he doesn't jump up again. Holly's in here, but she's fine," Brad answers, opening the door this time. Brad is partially invisible: meaning, he's just a pair of floating pants. Holly, the seeing-eye dog, is present, curled up on a sweatshirt towards the back of the room. She's a pretty black lab. She's observing what's happening, but was clearly signaled to stay put, and she did, though she looks very curiously at the visitors.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" Brad asks, moving backwards into his room, stopping near the side of his loft bed.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    When entering, Bean is very careful not to disturb anything or overset the tray he's carrying one handed, an assortment of biscuits, bits of chocolate and slices of orange... odd mix. Once inside, he motions Bear towards a nearby spot and tells him to sit and stay. "He only does that when he thinks I'm about to hurt someone. Rest of the time, he's just a big puppy."

    "I brought some things, a bit early for Sint Niklaas, but it's tradition..." And putting the tray down, he stays standing, not sitting unless invited. "I heard you got a bit upset a few days ago after talking to Andrea... I also heard that a few things were said that, frankly, never should have been said."

Haunt has posed:
"Does he jump on other people or bite them if he thinks they're dangerous too?" Brad asks, with a sort of careful caution there. He's clearly hesitant with the dog that leaps at what it sees as dangerous people. Brad shifts his weight a little bit, itching one elbow, though there's just the soft sounds of his invisible movement.

"Well, thanks. I mean. For the tray of food. 'Bean', right?" Brad says a little awkwardly. The student he's met just once bringing food is unusual; Brad isn't sure what to say.

"You heard something? About /me/? I mean, Andrea talked to some of us about the Fight Club and showed off the tactical outfit she has. It doesn't have much to do with me, though. I'm not upset." The way 'I'm not upset' is said, though, suggests the opposite: there's defensiveness there.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "He's a German Shepherd, but he's not a military dog. He's not my bodyguard, he doesn't attack anyone. But I suffer from some serious mental problems, and he's my solid rock, if you know what I mean?" Bean gives an appreciative smile over towards Bear, and figures that he might as well be candid all in one go. "I understand that it's normal to bring something to eat when visiting someone, and I was working on this anyway, so... if... I misjudged, then my apologies. I'm not good at social stuff."

    Team building, on the other hand...

    "My full name is Samuel Able Morgan. But that's one too many Samuel in the school, so Doug pretty much stuck me with Bean from day one. I'm actually one of the New Mutants, and we're not some kind of secret fight club, or a superhero society or anything like that. And I'm not implying anything when I said that I heard you were upset. Just that that's what I heard, when Nathan came to talk to me. Perhaps we can best call it confused? Would that do?"

Haunt has posed:
Brad stays silent while the explanations begin: which can make him a little eerie, since there's no social cues to read from the invisible teenager. "Okay. If you're like, hanging out with a group of guys then bringing food's cool. Bringing food for just me, I mean. A full platter's a lot for just me, heh. Don't worry about it though." Brad decides to bail out of that topic, even if it might be easier than the other one.

"Shannon talked to me some about that it's not entirely about fighting or whatever. I'm a little insulted I'm unworthy, but like, I get it, I'm the blind kid, so you guys assume that. I get really pissed off when I'm treated like crap because I'm blind, though. But yeah, it's normal."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Who the hell says you're unworthy? Who even used that phrase to begin with?" Bean never raised his voice during the exclamation, but this seems to be a topic very close to home. "Nobody is unworthy. That's an expression belonging in the far past, an era of bigotry, racism and narrow minded fools, and should stay buried there forever." Okay, no strong feelings about it then?

    "I'm glad you got to talk to Shannon..." and then a slight pause as he helps himself to a slice of orange, which necessarily occupies his mouth for a while, and he once again motions towards the tray. "Help yourself man, it's here for a reason". And then it's back to topic. "I'm sure she said the same time I'm going to say. That it's not about fighting. What we do is practice team work, we get to know each other's skills and flaws. When we practice, it's not some kind of grand melee, usually it's obstacle courses, fun ones at that, or something like an escape room. Exercises where we have to rely on each other. It's all about teaching team work, self confidence and learning how to use abilities in new ways. Want me to give you an example?"

Haunt has posed:
"I was asked if we were invited, and it was a no. That maybe once my eyes were fixed it could happen. What am I supposed to take from that, exactly?" Brad answers. "I get you guys really want to tell me all about your group and how awesome it is with cool obstacle courses and how much FUN you are apparently having but it's getting kind of to be enough. Geezus dude, really? Sorry. Can we talk about something else that isn't your cool society?" Brad moves to sit in his desk chair under the loft bed, anxiety clear, his upset starting to vibrate loose objects in the room.

"I mean, coming here to brag about the thing I'm not invited to? Please take your food and go." The door swings open suddenly.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Yes, this absolutely could have gone better. But it's also not the first time Bean has been on this side of the argument, and he listens to the anger even as he can feel it. But when the door swings open, he's still there, not having moved an inch. "As I said, things were said that shouldn't have been said. For one, it should never have been said that you weren't invited. Especially not implied that you weren't invited because of your eyesight. That was an incredibly insensitive comment by Andrea, and one we'll talk to her about, but please accept my apologies on behalf of the team. We also don't selectively invite people, as if there is some kind of entry criteria or some form of physical standard you're supposed to meet. That is /not/ how it is."

    He takes a deep breath and tries to select his next words carefully. "Once you know about the team, it's your choice if you want to join or not. It's not an elite club, we're just another set of classes in the school. And if you want to talk about something else, we'll talk about something else, anything else you want. Or if you really want me to leave, I'll go. Your choice. But I just want to make sure you're okay, Brad."

Haunt has posed:
"Oh." Brad's voice has a scowl in it, but he hasn't moved otherwise. "Then you're here to invite me?" Brad asks, trying to figure out the shift in the conversation that he had, clearly, not expected. He was all set to continue to be angry about the whole thing. There isn't anything visual to see: Brad's turned entirely invisible, even the pants are gone now. The door, released from the telekinesis that was holding it, starts to slowly close.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I'm here to clarify that you're not barred from joining, nobody is." Which is, perhaps, a slightly different thing... but then Bean did say he was no good at the social thing. "Especially not because of eyesight, no matter what might have been implied by someone who really, really should have known better." From which it could be taken that he's at the moment not too happy with Andrea. Without any visual indicators at all as to where Brad might be, Bean is entirely on edge, straining his other senses to triangulate his approximate position. It would have been simpler if he'd had any kind of electronic device to lock onto, but... nothing.

    "In the end the decision is up to Sam Guthrie, but I can't see him refusing you if you want to join up. But only if you want to man, no pressure. It's just... I heard about the whole 'not powerful enough' comment that apparently got used and it made my blood boil. I didn't want you to think that's some kind of grade we use around here, because it absolutely isn't."

Haunt has posed:
"Shannon told me a story about her proving herself to join. Trying to save somebody," Brad explains. His voice still shows he's in the chair. "I was thinking I'd go out, beat up some Friends of Humanity, and show I'm actually powerful, the blind thing doesn't /stop/ me at all. Do you know where to find guys like that?" Brad asks. His pants reappear, as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees in the chair.

"Sit in Jay's chair if you want to, he won't mind," Brad adds, though he seems to have no idea that Sam is anxious.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Thanks." And now that Bean can see who he's talking to... well, has a proper direction to direct his voice to, at any rate, he gratefully takes that seat and relaxes fractionally. Going out, beating up Friends of Humanity, settling a few scores and dishing out pain to those who cause so much of it? Bean would have to be a hypocrite to tell Brad not to do it, especially after his own punishment expeditions. But he also made a promise...

    "It's an interesting plan. But rather than me telling you, assuming I know such things, where would you start looking?"

Haunt has posed:
"Well, Andrea said you guys do that, and Shannon talked about it too, saving somebody. I don't know where to look," Brad answers evenly. His question isn't coming from nowhere. "That you'll defend people and sometimes you guys do get hurt doing it. I have no intention of getting hurt, though. Nobody'll know I'm there. I mean. That's my superpower: being ignored and assumed to be crap. Yaaay." Brad laughs softly, but it's a little forced.

"I don't know what your powers are, but I don't judge by powers. We could go." Brad has the best ideas, clearly.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Although he's fairly certain Brad, by his own confession, can't see him right now, Bean does his level best to keep any expression from showing on his face that isn't neutral interest. Else he'd have been smiling ear to ear, obviously. "Sorry to have to tell you this, but we don't do that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd very much like to, but we don't go out looking for trouble. We just prepare to be ready for when trouble finds us. But going out hunting, on punishment expeditions..." Nobody mentioned punishment expeditions "... we don't do that."

    "Me personally? I used to. Because these guys need to understand what pain feels like, and I know people like them. As long as they can dish out pain, they'll keep going. But once they come to understand that being a violent racist equals pain? They'll stop. Some will need more pain than others. But I promised that I'd stop doing that, so I haven't for a long time." Two months. That's a long time. The proposal was tempting...

    "Anyway, I'm a technopath, that's like a telepath but for technology only. I can't shoot lasers from my eyes or throw fireballs at will, but I can turn off the lights without getting out of bed. Fun stuff right?"

Haunt has posed:
Brad can't see the expressions, no. He can't tell what most of the food is on the tray, either, not from where he is. "So you read robots' minds?" Brad asks, amused by the thought of it, but not derogatory. "Or disable security cameras and things." Brad's getting it, the ideas for it, scope. Being blind doesn't make him slow at all.

"I don't throw fireballs, but I can throw lots of OTHER things," Brad says. All of the items on the food tray lift, and begin to swirl in concentric circles around a central orbit cookie. They then rearrange themselves on the plate. "I've not harmed anybody before. But I /could/." Defensive again. "I mentioned to Shannon that yeah, I'm broken, but I'm like broken glass. I'm still good. Not as great as if I could see, obviously, but like. Yeah. So let's go. I'll show you. I'll prove it. Not just a helpless blind kid."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "As long as they're within sixty feet, yeah." Bean admits with a smile, the merriment quite audible in his voice. "But it's not just read. I once made a giant sentinel sit his ass down. That thing did not know what was going on, I can tell you that."

    But, on a more serious note. "Look man, you have nothing to prove to me. Anyone who'd be willing to go out and teach the Friends a lesson has more than enough guts to take on anything that comes. But honestly, if you feel like you're broken, we gotta do something about that. Nobody needs to feel like that. Took me years to figure that out."

Haunt has posed:
"I'm blind. That's what broken is. It's okay. Like. Reality. Own it. Be broken with sharp edges," Brad encourages. "I am working on my vision. But it's not there yet. Might never be." Brad finally accepts one of the bits of food: a piece of orange. He just telekinetically yanks it off the tray to himself, and then examines it with invisible hands slowly, inspecting it by touch.

"You made a sentinel sit? Haaaa. Scary shit, those things," Brad observes with dismay. He can't handle a sentinel, and knows it. No way. "And me saying I'd go isn't the same as going. I'm not just big talk. I'll find my own way if you won't help," Brad insists rebelliously.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Good thing we won't be seeing them anymore. Not those big bastards anyway. And some edges are too sharp, man." But that's a discussion Bean would rather not go into, even with Bear around. He's glad to see some of the food finally being eaten though. "It's a Germanic thing this time of year, it's close to the feast of Saint Nicholas, on the sixth. Chocolate, oranges and Speculaas for all kids with good intent, but I couldn't find proper speculaas so it's just regular shortbread. Actually... I just had one hell of an idea."

    "First of, if you go out by yourself, people are going to know you're gone. Once people know that we've been talking, and suddenly you run off by yourself and two dozen Friends of Humanity goons get found face first in a dumpster with both their legs broken? I'll be in trouble. Big trouble. Secondly, failing to plan is planning to fail, first maxim of any proper operation. Trust me that, I've run my fair share... and not for the school, or the New Mutants" Where then? Why? When? Whoms't'd've?

    "But it just so happens that I need someone for a very delicate operation, here on school grounds, within the next 48 hours. Preferably someone invisible."

Haunt has posed:
"People usually aren't aware when I talk to anybody. I'm stealth mode," Brad says, with a waggle of orange at the other teen boy. "But okay. For the listening device in your pocket," Brad clears his throat and announces, "I am not going to put two dozen Friends of Humanity thugs in a dumpster."

Brad's smirk shows in his voice. "No promises about putting a dumpster on /them/." He's kidding. Although how much of it is just Brad adapting and pretending he's not going to go may be another question entirely.

"Uh huh," Brad says skeptically about this mysterious operation. "This operation you just came up with to distract me?" Brad chuckles.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yeah, technopath, if anyone wanted to listen in on this, I'd know about it." Bean smiles at the mention of a listening device, but with just enough levity in his voice to make it clear he's joking.

    "But seriously though, don't go looking for the Friends of Humanity by yourself. You're invisible, but you're not inaudible nor intangible, but I'm betting you're not bulletproof. Last time I ruined one of their little parties, they were sitting on a full arsenal, grenades included. You go in half-assed, that's exactly the amount of ass you'll have left when you're dragging yourself out again."

    "As for the operation? No, I've been planning that one for weeks." And he says it with total conviction, meaning he's either serious or a very well practiced liar. "And trust me, it's not going to be any less tense than smashing up a few thugs, and a lot more productive... not to mention, a lot closer aligned to what the New Mutants are actually all about."

Haunt has posed:
"Well, if I lived, I'd certainly prove I was damn good," Brad 'jokes'. There's a little bit too much thoughtfulness in that joke, though. It's once again a difficult read, maybe, with Brad invisible, particularly for someone without a lot of social experience or skill. On the surface it's just a comment.

"Maybe. Why is my invisibility important? I'm /not/ going to go spy on the women's dorms," Brad says, with a sort of frustrated sigh coming through. Blehhhh. He eats the orange piece: it just disappears in a few bites. Poof, poof, gone.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yeah. If." It's said with such an ice cold tone that it might have been a different person suddenly sitting in that chair. "Trust me, I've heard that before. The odds are never more than fifty fifty." And the next time he speaks, about a completely different topic, Bean's normal voice is back.

    "No man, geez... why would I be interested in that? C'mon, brain out of the gutter. No, I just need things to appear somewhere, and nobody can be seen to put them down. In practically full sight of an entire mess hall."

Haunt has posed:
"So you need something to be invisibly moved across a room. The other telekinetics might notice it, but otherwise, probably." Brad considers a little bit. He cloaks the trash can by the door, and then invisibly moves it, slowly and silently, up into the middle of the room, setting it super quietly on the floor. Then, he makes it reappear.

In essence, a trash can just materialized in the middle of the floor between them. "Like that? Yeah. Depends on what the object is, but."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You're getting the idea. But not object. Objects. Plural. As in lots." Bean smiles again, which comes through in his tone of voice, especially after seeing that demonstration. "Traditionally, on Saint Nicholas day, the Saint himself appears to hand out goodies and presents. Now, it's too late for me to find someone to play the role, design a costume and... to be honest, it's not going to fool anyone. Even the youngest kids here are pretty sharp. No, we're going to do the next best thing. We're going to make the goodies appear. Out of thin air. Right next to their breakfast plates, while they're sitting there."

Haunt has posed:
Brad considers this. "I can't do a room full of items. You're better off asking a telepath to make everyone take a nap for a minute while you set it up. ...Sorry." Brad withdrew emotionally very quickly, as it came around to that he's unable to do what's asked. The Trash can floats back towards teh door into place with a somewhat heavy thud.

"Good luck with that, though," he offers, not unfriendly, but distant.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "One orange, six chocolate coins and two pieces of shortbread, wrapped into a small package." Bean continues as if Brad hadn't just said he couldn't do it. "Small packages, not too heavy. And they don't need to appear all at once. About... thirty five packages, total. Think about it, how could you do it? How would you give it an attempt?"

    He helps himself to another slice of orange, smiling. "Not easy, is it? Bet you wished I'd just let you go beat up thugs now, would have been so much simpler, right?"

Haunt has posed:
"You're not listening. /I can't do it/, just like I can't see, no matter how mush wishing is involved," Brad answers. "I can't handle that many objects all at once. If they were all packed together, like floating near the ceiling, and then they could all be visible before going to the students?.... that I can MAYBE do. But I can't make thirty things invisible. So you have to ask someone else. I'm not good enough, okay?"

Brad's up off the chair. Holly the lab rises, questioningly observant. "If there's nothing else..?" Brad asks, frustrated.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Okay, it's okay, I understand." Bean says and stands. Bear gets up as well, seeming to know that the time here is at an end. "Enjoy the food regardless. And if you have any questions, any whatsoever, I live at the end of the hall, and I'm sure you know where Sam Guthrie lives as well. If you want to know more about the New Mutants, he's the one to talk to."

    And with that he turns to leave, heads for the door... and turns back at the last moment. "Say, one last question, if you don't mind? Why are some of your clothes invisible, but not others?"

Haunt has posed:
Brad's got a rolling emotional spike going on, though: "I can't even tell one student from another, to know where to PUT your packages. Once again, not good enough. Yay." Brad explodes. The room really begins to rattle, the door swings open, shut, open, and drawers start to open up. Brad is emotionally unstable, particularly around feeling like he can't do something. And more of that shows. Perceived rejection from a team, and unable to do this other task.

"Depends on how bulky they are or how mad I am," Brad does answer, though it's emotionally charged. His pants do flicker, disappearing again, proving his upset.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I never said you'd be doing it alone. Only that I could use your help. And I do, still do." Bean recognises the outburst for what it is, or what he perceives it to be anyway. Critically low self esteem. And the only way over that is to show that limitation can be overcome.

    "So tell me, if you were to, say stack sixteen of those small packages in your arms, could you keep them invisible while you walked around? And what kind of markers would you need to know where to put them down? Because if thirty is too many for telekinesis, from across the room, could you do sixteen if you were already carrying them, and only had to move them a short distance, making each one appear as you put it down?"

Haunt has posed:
"/Who cares/?" Brad answers, voice betraying a lot of emotion. "HOLLY." Brad calls her, and directs her verbally near him. The dog looks spooked and unsure about being yelled at. She's not an emotional support animal, but she does love her boy. Brad doesn't see her reaction, though. "I'm taking Holly out." Brad doesn't have a good reason to escape, so he's using Holly as an excuse. He picks up his coat, pulling it on, going towards the door. The coat is entirely visible, and the pants reappear as well. Both chairs are starting so spin in the room in poltergeist mode, the sheets and comforters lifting like angry ghosts are under them as Brad's telekinetic psycho-storm starts to launch with his upset. "I didn't say I can't make them all float. I said I can't make them all /invisible/. I suck at invisibility, not telekinesis."

Brad has made it to the door, and is headed to the hallway.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I care, dammit." Bean follows, and so does Bear. At least now he knows where Brad is though, which makes it... slightly... easier. "You can't make them all invisible, so what? This is the thing about team work, the thing I'm trying to tell you about." Gods, this is hard to do while crossing a hallway. "I don't know what it is you can do, so I can't make a plan. This is how teams work. We don't make a plan and then tell you you're not good enough for not being able to do what we demand it is you do. We find out what is is everyone can do and /then/ make a plan. That's the entire point. Give yourself a bloody chance man."

Haunt has posed:
"What do you mean 'so what'? That was the entire premise. That's like saying let's go biking, and 'so what' you can't ride a bike." Holly settles into a particular location at Brad's side, and he drops his hand to the guide handle automatically, accepting her help without really thinking about it. It's a weird visual: the empty coat and pants being led by the guide dog: as if it was a very weird prank illusion of a dog walking her set of clothes.

It might be funnier if Brad wasn't in some emotional backlash state that's making pictures rattle on the hallway walls. "You didn't ask me what I can do. You told me what you needed. I can't do the requirement. So I'm not part of the team. I don't see what I'm missing here."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I gave you a rough premise, an outline, not an absolute." Bean continues on, following after the fairly peculiar procession, his own composure not entirely intact. "Work with me to find a way to /make/ it possible, in some way. Because I want to involve you. This isn't a damned induction requirement, I just want you to help me create a fun experience for the younger students on the sixth. It's meant to be a celebration, a fun thing."

Haunt has posed:
"Well, still felt like entry into your group thing that's doing this. Instead of beating up thugs outside. Not that I actually can do that either. I know it's dumb, okay, I'd get myself killed; but let me dream and pretend for a bit," Brad answers, maneuvering to the stairs. Despite the blindness he handles the stairs fine, one hand on the rail. He stops talking during the stairs though: he has to count them, and stops before the bottom, to carefully dismount off the stairs. Sometimes it's easy to forget Brad is blind, until he does those sudden things that really remind that he's doing his best to navigate and act 'normal'.

"If there's something I /can/ do, then maybe. But I'd rather be out than feel like shit about this."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I wanted to keep you from getting killed. And not because I don't think you can fight, but because I've seen people who can fight go off unprepared and get killed, sometimes even while I was watching. I don't want to see that happen to anyone, okay?" There's a sigh, and Bean at least gives Brad space to navigate the stairs, not adding anything until they're both safely on ground level.

    "Look, I'm sorry if I've made you feel bad about yourself, or made you feel in any way that you're not good enough. I'm just... I come from a culture where things are very straightforward and blunt, and I'm just not the best diplomat. Please, my apologies for that. Honestly, I want you to just think about joining us, have some fun while we find out, together, what it is you can do. Forget about the sixth, we'll deal with that as it comes, just... go and unwind. And I did mean it. If you need to talk, my room is at the very end of the hall."

Haunt has posed:
"If somebody invites me and appreciates how great my telekinetics are, I'll consider it, so long as it's not out of pity now," Brad says, in an overly arrogant way, but he's just clinging to the remaining little scraps of pride after how he just tore himself up over not being able to fight thugs. Or make tons of packages invisible.

"It isn't like any of you can make even /one/ thing invisible, so I don't see why the bar is set at thirty." Brad's calming down, and slowly talking himself up. "Kind of unreasonable." Huff huff.

"Don't worry about me. I do okay. Later, Bean." Brad doesn't wave, but he never does visual gestures, so he just heads outside into the cold with Holly.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "The only thing I can make disappear is my foot, through my mouth." Bean sighs, but with a smile.

    "Take care man. And if you ever want to go out and beat up thugs... hit me up."