13206/PANIC! At the Garage

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PANIC! At the Garage
Date of Scene: 05 May 2021
Location: Garage - Xavier's School
Synopsis: Rosie McGowan adopts a dirtbike. Shannon attempts to be friendly with the prickly Rosie. There is progress on both fronts.
Cast of Characters: Antigravity, Nightingale




Antigravity has posed:
    The Garage was mostly empty at this time of day -- mostly.

    There was a figure in one of the bays, having stripped down an aged dirtbike. The scent of spray-on paint and gasoline and paint thinner hangs in the air, the door of the garage open to the front yard to allow for air circulation.

    There's the rumble of drums, of steel string guitars and mozying bass as country plays.
    "Hold my head underwater, wash away these rusted crimes. Oh, my sweet Devil's Daughter -- lead me into love so blind. Take my life -- and bleed it out." croons a band in harmony.

    The ever-present plaid overshirt was hanging on one of the handle bars of the dirtbike, and sitting cross-legged on the floor, re-assembling the chain drive, was Rosie McGowan. She was wearing a guy's muscle shirt -- it was slightly stained by now -- and she seemed intent and focused.

    Of course, seeing as she's wearing a muscle shirt, up from her elbows to her shoulders, curling over the front and dropping to the back, there are scars. Old infections that were scratched off from bug bites in irregular patches. Longer, deeper cuts from beatings. Round cigarette burns, things that were usually hidden by the baggy overshirts she typically wears. She has a couple of band-aids accross her fingers, probably from being careless with some tool or another.

Nightingale has posed:
     Dressed in very plain, old blue jeans that might have seen better days, an old white t-shirt, and old white sneakers, Shannon's making her way into the garage, heading for another one of the bays, not too terribly far away from the one where Rosie is working. The aromas of spray paint and gasoline, old oil and new paint thinner all waft through the air with that odd, metallic tang to it that seems universal to garages everywhere. The wailing of steel strings, the basso rumble of drums, and the ambling bass line call to her, however, and she moves up quietly at first, listening to the song. As recognition finally dawns on her face, she takes up the melody, just ehough to blend in with the recording.

"Take my life
And bleed it out
Take my time
And burn it down
Burn it down

No more talk of your sorrow
Heed this softly spoken spell
Oh, my sweet devil's daughter
Lead me no more into hell..."

Antigravity has posed:
    Someone was there. Rosie pauses a moment, one of the items that she had been working on coming crashing to the floor as she reaches up to grab her overshirt to pull it on.

    "Gosh Ah am so sorry -- didn't think anyone was gonna be out here an' happened to have a free period!" she apologizes instantly, tugging her shirt as she turns her hazel eyes over to Shannon as she looks her up and down.

    "... didn't think you were Southern music type, Wings."

Nightingale has posed:
     Though Rosie pulled the shirt on, Shannon's brows did furrow in concern at the sight of all those scars. But, she says nothing about them. They were Rosie's tale to tell, in her own time, if she ever chose to do so.

     Crouching down, she reaches in to fish the dropped item from the floor, offering it to Rosie with a light smile. "I started picking up a taste for it ever since I visited New Orleans with my mom when I was nine," she admits. "Guess that had more influence on my own music than I thought. Never expected to turn out a country pop singer."

     Glancing further into the bay, the winged teen grins, lifting her chin in an up-nod. "You adopted a bike, too?"

Antigravity has posed:
    "... yeah, but Vaudville Ettiquite? Not precisely widely-known." the girl states with a wry smile, and then frowns a bit. "Well, they didn't seem like they were widely known. Still gettin' a hand on music that ain't from my church." she mutters, and she hops to her feet to accept the bolt back from Shannon.

    "YEah, well had a bike back home. Scrimped and saved so that Ah wasn't walkin' the thirteen mile round trip 'tween home an' work when ah was fourteen." she states, and then begins to fiddle with some of the brake controls.

    "... wasn't enough room in th' car Mr. Sam and Miss Ororo came in, so had ta leave it behind. Ah don't care none, jus' an item. An' my momma could ride it to work when my gran had the truck for church."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon nods slowly, tucking a stray wisp of pale gold away behind one ear as she listens, standing up straight to lean against the wall of the bay. "Might be just an item, but it still sounds like something you took a lot of pride in. No shame in missing that." As she listens further, her head tilted to one side, she nods again. "Then your mom can at least get some good use out of it. That's good." It looks for a moment as if she might say something more, but no further words on the matter come from her.

     All is silent from her end for a few moments more, before she finally lifts her chin twoards the fresher-looking bandages on Rosie's fingers. "If you want, I can get some ointment on those, or heal them fully so you don't have to worry about the bandages falling off while you work. Totally up to you, but I dno't mind helping either way."

Antigravity has posed:
    The other blonde pauses, and looks over to Shannon with a quizzical, but suspicious look.

    "... no thank ya. I know that healers hafta touch others in most cases... an' when Ah'm in a mood, touchin' me's not precisely the safest option. Ah'll be fine." she states. "It's a wonder. Everyone in this school's so touchy-feely sometimes Ah think there must be somethin' wrong with me."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Nothing's wrong with you. Not everyone who comes here is all touchy-feely." Shannon cracks a light smile, ruffling her wings slightly behind her. "Heck, even I wasn't when I first got here a couple years ago. So it's all good."

     Her smile widens a little bit, and she inclines her head towards her fellow blonde. "Besides, if there was something really wrong with you, I don't think Dr. McCoy would be talking about working more with you, and maybe asking you to join a team he's putting together. So there's that, too."

Antigravity has posed:
    "Dr. McCoy appreciates that even though I'm from the poorest county in Alabama -- which means I live in *the* lowest state for things like 'education' an' 'readin' comprehension', an' I still had the drive ta pretty much be th' only Honors Science student, while workin' full time washin' dishes." she relates to Shannon.

    "Maybe there is somethin' wrong and they're jus' not tellin' folks. Maybe I'm some sorta biological time bomb an' someday Ah'll just go 'piff!'-- "she explodes her hands outwards, "... an' suddenly Ah destroy the Van Allen belts or cause a major polar shift or somethin' an' the planet cracks in half."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just smiles wider sill, her wings ruffling and flaring akin to a peacock's tail, in pride. She lets out a soft, low whistle, finally saying, "Damn, girl. Don't ever let me hear you putting yourself down after telling me that. That's pretty impressive. Be proud of it."

     But, as Rosie's worry continues to come to light, her brows furrow lightly, faint lines appearing between them. She nibbles her lower lip, as if debating just how much to say, while tucking her wings in behind her once again. "I wouldn't worry so much about that. And if you still do, I'd actually suggest maybe talking to Miss Grey. She's usually got a pretty good perspective on things like that, might help set your mind at ease some."

Antigravity has posed:
    "I dunno, she might just tell me 'yes, you're doomed'. If I'm gonna bring about the apocalypse, I mean, do I get a head's up for that? Is there a cake? Does Hallmark make a card for 'sorry, you're gonna destroy the world because you're a monstrous being of a person'?" Rosie asks, and she fiddles a little bit with another piece, before she starts re-assembling the motor.

    "... Mr. Kurt was kind enough to wait for me to calm down before lettin' me touch his hand. He just has about the softest-feelin' skin Ah've ever seen on a man."

Nightingale has posed:
     "You're not a monster," Shannon says, very firmly. "And if you were doomed, I don't think you'd be here in the first place. Sorry, Hallmark's outta business on this one." She looks on in fascination as Rosie begins to re-assemble the motor on her bike, her smile widening. "Wow. Wish I was half as good as you at stuff like that. I bet your bike's going to be pretty freaking sweet when it's finished."

     Shannon smiles wide, and nods. "Herr Wagner's probably one of the kindest souls you could want to meet. Has a real zest for life, too, and he's a great listener." Her smile softens a little bit. "Started picking up a little German just so he'd have someone else to speak it with sometimes."

Antigravity has posed:
    "... it was servicable. Got about seventy miles on a tank of gas. And I could be a monster. Most of 'em look like normal people." Rosie states as she looks back to Shannon, and she reclips a few things, and begins to connect hoses and lines again.

    "He is very kind. An' understandin' of my situation back home. He offered ta help me find a church 'round here that I can be comfortable with, since it's... kinda..." she pauses, then frowns a moment.

    "You didn't go to regular school or nothin', did you Wings?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon sighs softly, and dips her head. "Yeah, normal people can be the real monsters. Go figure. Hate does funny things to folks. It's one thing I just don't understand... hatred. Not even with the things I've seen and done while I've been here. Hope I never get to that point."

     One corner of her mouth quirks upwards in a wry half smile, her brows flicking upwards briefly. "Nope. Homeschooled. Coming here's about the closest I've gotten to going to a 'regular' school."

Antigravity has posed:
    "Ain't missin' much, unless you like bein' shoved inta lockers or havin' your books knocked over all the time." Rosie comments before she stretches, and straddles the bike. She checks a few things, and then attempts a kickstart.

    ... there's a coughing sound.

    "... well. 'Least we have progress." she murmurs.