9857/Of Apples and Flying Things....

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Of Apples and Flying Things....
Date of Scene: 31 October 2019
Location: Horse Stables - Xavier's School
Synopsis: Shannon's inner demons begin to come to light, and the battle against them begins with friends at her side. Life, love, and flying with a body cam on (among many things!) are discussed.
Cast of Characters: Nightingale, Triage, Cannonball




Nightingale has posed:
     With the restoration to full duty, Shannon is back out in the stables, apple in hand, dressed for working in the muck and hay, with her jeans, plain white t-shirt, and sneakers. While many of the students might shy away from Brightwind's stall, but not so with the resident winged healer. No, she just sidles right up to the door of his stall, hiding the apple behind her back. A soft giggle escapes her as that great muzzle comes out to nudge her shoulder, with a soft whickering sound. "Ha, you're spoiled rotten, you know that, right?"

Triage has posed:
Horses need basic care but treats help to inspire bonds of loyalty between them and their riders. To this end, not long after Shannon has crossed the yard and entered the stables, Chris opens the stable's door. He totes a burlap bag along with his quarterstaff in one hand, and a sturdy cloth medic's pouch, probably from one of the many military surplus stores in the city, dangles from his left shoulder. He came ready to work, wearing well-warn jeans, a hoodie with an iconic logo and the words 'Don't Panic', and scuffed boots appropriate for the natural recycling that comes with horses. When he sees Shannon, he grins. "Well, this is a pleasnt surprise!"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon turns around to see Chris there, and smiles somewhat. However, her back is now unguarded, and vulnerable to another fairly strong nudge from Brightwind, right between the wings. She bursts out laughing, and offers the apple to the great creature on the flat of her hand. Needless to say, it doesn't last very long, and somehow, she retains all her fingers. "It is. Never would've figured you for volunteering out here. How's it going?"

Triage has posed:
"I haven't been able to come here as often as I'd like," Chris answers. "It's usually quiet here, except for the horses themselves, especially when they smell a whiff of treats." He lifts the burlap bag for Shannon to see. "The office is quiet, so I thought that I'd grab the opportunity." Noticing that her smile is subdued, he offers, "I can go away if you need some time by yourself."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head. "No, it's alright. Probably better to get out of my own head, anyways." She peers into the canvas bag, and can't help smiling. "I think you're about to make a lot of friends very quickly with all that." At least her wings aren't drooping, perhaps a good sign. Leaning up against the wall, she crosses her arms over her chest, seeming deep in thought for a moment. "Been a little too much in my head recently."

Triage has posed:
Chris smiles warmly, both in response to Shannon's assessment of the gifts that he brought for the horses, and at her welcome. When she leans against the wall, however, the unconscious signal of har crossed arms provokes a flicker of concern to cross his face. "I noticed that you tend to hide in there." He taps his own temple before leaning the staff against the wall and then pulling a green Granny Smith apple and a pocket knife from the bag. He swings the knife open and starts to slice the apple. Looking up, he smiles again and hints, "I told you. If you ever want to come come out of there and ease your burdens, I'll be available."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shrugs lightly, reaching over to pluck a slice of apple from his hand; it seems the horses aren't the only ones who enjoy the treat! "It's like I told Jubilee yesterday. There's kids who come in here with a lot worse that's happened to them than me. What the hell right do I have to complain about a few killer-bots, or healing a few injuries, or any of that?" The slice of apple, with its bright green skin, snaps and crunches delicately as she partakes of the treat, thinking for a few moments. "Talked a lot with Cannonball, too. Kind of wondered if being so... calm... about everything is normal. If just accepting everything that's been happening is even okay. My dad was kind of the same way. I never saw him cry after coming home from work, even knowing he saw some pretty rough things, and he never talked to me about things. I mean... I tried going to see if he wanted to talk once but..." Her face goes beet red, and she grins a little sheepishly. "Well... found him and mom, and some things can't be un-seen. So yeah, never tried that again. Kind of just bottle everything up now. Don't know if any of this makes any sense at all."

Triage has posed:
The apple is ready, and Chris is ready to go to the first stall. Then Shannon steps forward to snatch one of the slice from his hand. He looks at her, but unlike Jay, who protested over Andrea stealing the fries, Chris smiles and nods. "I have enough for them and us although they're greedy and might disagree." A glossy black horse steps to the gate. With ears pricking forward, the horse lowers his head to sniff at the treat waiting on Chris's open palm. The horse wickers. The large equine muzzle lowers and the inhaling begins. The phrase, 'eats like a horse' surely applies. Each slice disappears into the eager maw and the horse devours the other slices with loud munching. Chris keeps his fingers rigid and well away from danger. He looks at Shannon while she answers. "Everyone needs to vent, Shannon, but people vent in different ways. "My mom takes out her frustrations by kneading dough and then baking bread. Your dad ... shows your mom a good time." Leaving the horse, he steps toward Shannon and touches her hand. "I think that sometimes you vent by flying."

Nightingale has posed:
     "I suspect they talked, too, but well... dad's profession is a mortician. I guess with so much death, he'd look for life." A small smile curls the corners of her mouth upwards as she watches the horse positively inhale the slices of apple, chuckling softly. "Jubilee and Cannonball both had good points. But it kind of bugs me, the way Jubilee seemed to think I should be upset, or crying, or shaking in my boots with nightmares from everything that's happened. There's no time for fear. You deal with what's happening as it comes and the rest has to be put aside for later. When I actually /do/ stop to take a look at it, it's... sort of detached, in here." She taps her heart. "Maybe some anger, that all those things, all that bigotry and hate, even has to exist in the first place. Maybe I -should- feel something else, but... I don't. Do I even have the means to? The only time I was really ever afraid, was when Megan stopped that healing, and I thought I was going to die."

Triage has posed:
Chris nods when Shannon elaborates. "As I said, people vent in different ways. For some, it's obvious. Logan might punch things. Some pray. Some cook. Some play music. Some exercise. Some talk." He looks down and frowns for a moment. Then he raises his head and looks into her eyes. "What do you do that helps when emotions seem to crowd in your heart? The worst thing is to lock them away and ignore them or try to pretend that they're not there."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shrugs a little. "I get the going to the gym bit from Logan. Hell, first class, that was one of the first things he insisted I start working on. Music, well... you've heard that. Pray?" She rolls her eyes and laughs a little bit. "That's very tempting, because I'm fairly sure if I did, there'd actually be an answer. But I may hold off on that one, at least for a little while. Cooking? Do you know how many times you guys have literally eaten away at my stress in the form of mac 'n cheese already? Talking about it?" She sighs softly, her eyes a little bit haunted, a little bit steely, and a little bit misty all up in the corners. "What would I even talk about, when I'm not sure if feelings are even there? Not pretending that they don't exist. Doubting their existance at all, or my ability to feel them when it's needed."

Triage has posed:
"Working out is good. I know that you run with Bean, and if you need someone to go to the gym with you, you don't need to look far. The same goes for music, if you want someone to listen." Chris offers. "In the end, there's something else to consider. You might need to talk to a counselor, to see if you're locking those emotions behind some door, possibly without being conscious of it? As they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.'" He sighs. "Some people are uncomfortable with that thought. I get it, but you might need that help for your sake and for the sake of others who will depend on you." Then he admits, "I worry about you with that."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "Facing down gods, heroes, and kings? Sure, no problem. Opening that locked door, if it even exists? Yeah, that one's... just..." She shivers a little bit at the thought. "When I -do- feel things, it's very, very potent. An empath or telepath would probably get blasted by it. With as much as is probably behind that door? I don't envy anyone with so much as a vestige of the gift in this school." Pressing her lips together, she frowns ever so slightly. "It worries me a little too, when I stop to think about it. I'm not sure any of those other things will be quite enough to cope with it, when it finally -does- come to the surface. But my teammates need me. I can't afford to crack on them."

Triage has posed:
"In a way, it's the same problem that you face with your healing," Chris comments. "With healing, you need to learn when to close the door, to say, 'This is enough for now. I need to rest.' With those emotions, you need to learn that it's okay to feel and to react to those feelings. You need to give yourself permission to be angry or to cry." Again, he reaches for her but he does not touch briefly, as before. He curls his hand around her arm and looks into her eyes. "Please," he whispers. "Find the key and learn how to open that door. Monsters grow in the dark, and it's dark behind that door."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon barely whispers, actually starting to shake a little bit, as if she were a lone feather or the last leaf caught on a tree preparing to slumber for the winter. "I don't even know what the key is. And it's dark behind that door. I don't want whatever's back there to drown me."

Triage has posed:
Feeling the slight tremble in Shannon's arm, and seeing tears threatening at the edges of her eyes, Chris tightens his hand on her arm, not to hurt but to reassure. "Whatever the monsters are, you won't fight them alone. I won't allow them to drown you. As I said, we're a team. Teams stick together."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon feels her wings droop and the tears spill their banks. "How can I be so strong facing down murder-bots, helping you bring back a woman from the dead, healing a god and then facing down his brother... and yet when it comes to this, I shake like a little kid afraid of the dark?"

Triage has posed:
Chris turns from standing beside Shannon to face her. He reaches for her other arm, to squeeze it in assurance. "They're different things, Shannon," he answers in a gentle whisper. "Those events were here, in the world. They were outside you. The emotions are inside. You can deal with what's outside /because/ it's outside. It's something that you do. The emotions, because you carry them with you, are part of you. I could be wrong, but I think that they're a part of you that you don't like, and therefore you want to deny them, to pretend that they don't exist because if they do, then you feel weak."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon snorts, sniffling softly. There is no attempt to pull away, or to deny anything that's being said. "How can my teammates or anyone out there depend on me if I'm weak like that? If I literally have someone's life in my hands, what good is it going to do them if I let my emotions swamp me, and get the better of me? That's how people get -killed-."

Triage has posed:
"While we're on the mission, focus on the mission. Hold those emotions in check," Chris explains. "Once we're safe, by all means, focus on yourself. That's perfectly normal. Uncork the bottle and deal with those emotions, or they'll fester like an infection." He squeezes her arms. "I can't speak for the others, but I'm counting on you to do both, to focus when you need to focus, and then to face those emotions as braveiy as you face our enemies. Okay?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon swallows hard, and nods. "What now? Why does it feel like I'm falling apart?" She's shaking a little bit more, and gestures briefly back towards the mansion. "Jubilee's got a poster of me in her office, did you know that? You know, the one where I'm sprawled out on the danger room floor like a bug splat. And it says something about always giving 100. She told me she uses it to tell other kids to suck up the drama, pick up, and move on. Yet here I am, starting to fall apart. That feels like letting all those kids down. And I hate letting people I care about down. Felt just as rotten when I had to admit in front of the Captain what I did, healing Loki. Felt like letting him down and I never mentioned it to him after that. Still feels lousy. But... damn, how could she put that poster up, use me as a motivator for those kids, and then ask me to come in to her when I'm about ready to break?"

Triage has posed:
Chris frowns when Shannon talks about the snapshot. "I didn't know about the picture," he admits. "I can see why it might bother you. She didn't catch you at your best, and she didn't ask for your permission. I understand that. If it bothers you, tell her. Don't keep that bottled up, too." He pauses, allowing Shannon to consider that. Then he adds, "You look to the captain, Logan, and Cannonball as your role-models. Everyone needs role models," he says. "Would you prefer to be a role-model or an example of what people /shouldn't/ do? People shouldn't deny their emotions, but they shouldn't be drama queens, baring their souls to everyone in earshot. If you don't want to uncork that bottle in public, that's fine as long as you uncork it at some point, around people who won't hold that against you." He steps closer, almsot touching her, and then slips his arms around her to hug her.

Nightingale has posed:
     For the second time in one day, Shannon breaks down crying, allowing Chris to hug her. "You're right, I don't want to uncork that bottle in public. Don't want to be that drama queen. I don't mind about the picture so much, it's kind of funny... except she holds me up as a role model when I'm about ready to break and really don't feel very worthy of that. And even more weird, kind of a little bit proud, too. It's all mixed up, all these bats in my belfry..." She leans into the hug, crying as silently as she can, though her shoulders shake with each sob.

Triage has posed:
"It's okay," Chris assures, hugging Shannon and swaying slightly. "No one will hear you except me and the horses. I won't tell, and I don't think that they will." Then, with a touch of humor, he adds, "Well, I won't vouch for Brightwind but I think that I brought enough apples to buy their silence." One hand slides up Shannon's back and he begins to massage the spot between her wings gently.

Nightingale has posed:
     It takes Shannon a little while to start calming down, her tears soaking right through Chris' shirt in the meantime. But, soon enough, the backrub begins to have its effect, hearkening back to an earlier, more innocent time of childhood, when everything could be fixed with such a simple gesture. Her wings go all floppy on her, and she relaxes more, like a ragdoll kitten.

Triage has posed:
"You're not alone," Chris whispers to Shannon. He continues to hold her and rub her back in slow strokes. "You've trusted me to heal your body. Trust me with this. When you need to talk to someone who'll listen, someone who cares about you, your heart, and what happens to you, find me. I'll be here. When you need to cry, I'll hold you."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly, just letting him hold her, as he continues to rub her back in that gentle, soothing way. It's enough to calm the tears, the shaking soon easing off, and the tears drying up. "You're probably getting sick of seeing me break down like this," she murmurs. "You don't get to see me smile or laugh much... not many do." She frowns a little bit. "That can't be good."

Triage has posed:
"I've seen you smile," Chris corrects. "You smile when you bake mac 'n' cheese or other goodies. You practically broke your face with a grin when I brought that pizza and the root beer to you in the medbay." He grins. "And when you fly, when you're close enough to the ground, you look like a kid who got a free ticket to an amusement park." Then he reminds her, "Anyone will celebrate with you. Only the true friends will share your sorrows. I like to see you smiling, laughing, and happy, but I'm not sick of this, because it's part of caring about you."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon hesitates a moment, and hugs Chris briefly, smiling a little bit as she recalls those things. "I smile when I bake things because I know it'll make the ones I care about happy, even if it's just for a little while. The pizza and root beer, it was a little bit of kindness, and I can't help smiling about that. Flying... gawd, I wish everyone could know how it feels, to be diving towards the ground, and at the last minute, just when you think you're done for, you open your wings and the sky is yours. Wish you could see just how much fun that one time I snuck into the danger room was. Heck, maybe you could look that one up. Think that one was... oh, back in the beginning of August. First day I met Kurt, too."

A soft sigh escapes her, though, the young mutant just staying put right there. "True friends might share sorrows, but if all they see is rain clouds, sooner or later they'll wash away with the storm."

Triage has posed:
"You don't need to fear those rains," Chris answers. "I won't mind them. We've had good times already, and I'm sure that it's not the last. I'll tell you a secret. I enjoyed sneaking away to visit Angel investigations, even though it might have landed both of us in trouble." He grins at Shannon. "You're wonderful company."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shrugs a little bit, a ghost of a smile curling her lips upwards. "How is it sneaking away? It's no secret we're trying to find out what happened to Ms. Burkle. Plus, I was escorted properly. Okay, so maybe we didn't leave a note for anyone. But neither of us went alone." Her smile shifts to a pout, her brows furrowing. "Though I do wish we could have brought back one of those kittens. They were so... so... CUTE!"

Triage has posed:
"I'd have brought back the whole lot if possible," Chris admits with a grin. "It's the professor's rule but nothing requires me to like it. You can't expect people to become responsible if you don't give them responsibilities. That should include pets." He adds, "They know, but no one authorized it. Still, I'm glad that we went even though we couldn't bring the kittens back. They deserve a good home and Mr. Angel deserves fewer distractions."

Nightingale has posed:
     "It's just a shame we couldn't relieve him of one or two or twelve of those distractions. That handsome little furball in the tuxedo wormed his way right into my heart. I really hope the little guy finds a good home." She sighs a little bit, leaning into the hug just a bit more. "There was something in Angel's voice. Call it intuition, but he really sounded worried. Maybe what happened to Ms. Burkle hit him harder than he was letting on. I really do hope we can find her and maybe help her out."

Triage has posed:
Chris nods, his chin brushing Shannon's shoulder during the hug. "I agree on all counts. If I were still in my apartment in the city, I'd have a dozen roommates by now, but not here. If I find someone in Salem who's willing to take them, I'll pass the word to Mr. Angel myself. He did seem concerned, and that's good if he's her boss. Everyone should have a boss who cares about the employees. Also, if she lives there at the hotel, they might be a very tight group, almost like a family."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and purses her lips, thinking for a moment. "It makes me wonder why she would ask us for protection, then, if they're that tightly knit a group. It gets more and more confusing the more I think about it. Wonder who we could bring this up to. It's not making a whole lot of sense." Shaking her head, she rolls her eyes and laughs a little bit. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should bug Jubilee or someone again with all this. So messed up in the head I'm shying away from it all again."

Triage has posed:
Chris shakes his head. "I don't think that you need to drop the mystery over Ms. Burkle in her lap. I don't think that she can do much about that. If the other things still bother you, you might want to talk to her about them." he recommends." He rubs her back between the wings again. "But Kurt might be a better one to ask. He seems less prone to dismiss such things by telling people to 'Suck it up.'" He grimaces. "I never cared much for that mantra. It only reinforces the problem that you have, whichs bottling the feelings inside your heart and not allowing yourself to work through them."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Yeah, going to have to have a talk with her about that. It didn't match at all with what she was trying to tell me...." Shannon's voice is a bit more of a murmur, as that backrub is almost enough to relax her completely, her voice trailing off. One is left to wonder if she might be part feline herself.

Triage has posed:
Chris sighs while he continues to rub Shannon's back. "Talk to one of them. I still think that Kurt might be better. Look at how he handled Vi. Jubilee is fine in her place but I wonder if she's more likely to give pep talks, like a cheerleader or a morale booster. What you need is ... deeper."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods a little bit. "I don't know Jubilee that well, though, to make that kind of call. She was there the day I arrived here, you know." She smiles a little bit, remembering, her eyes unfocusing for just a few moments. "Not sure if she's read my file that well, or what's even in it. Not sure if she knows how I became what I am. Kurt does, though, I did tell him...."

Triage has posed:
Chris pauses the backrub for a moment. "You aren't a 'what,'" he objects. You're a 'who.' The mutation doesn't define who you are. It might define what you can do, and how some people see you, but it's only part of you. Your mutation didn't give you your gift for music or your love for cooking and animals. It didn't give you your voice, your hair, or your eyes. Those were in your genes before the mutation surfaced." He sighs, realizing that a defensiveness had crept into his voice. "Will you tell me?" he asks her. "I know. You said once that it wasn't worth telling because your story was better than many. Still, I'd like to hear it, however happy or sad it is, because it's yours."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly, the motion barely perceptible. She shifts slightly as the backrub ceases, much like a kitten that was enjoying a good chin scratch and then found itself without contact. Glancing up at him, there's a hint of mist in her eyes. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to upset you." She's silent, searching his face for signs that he may or may not be pulling her chain on this one. But no, his desire to hear her story seemed genuine. He'd not given her reason to distrust him before, so there was no reason to hold the tale back now.

"It was two summers ago. I was at Camp Pinewood, back in Connecticut. My best friend since kindergarten and I were in the same unit. Both of us loved horseback riding, so that's the program we signed up for. We were at our campsite, and she was watching over the pot that was boiling over the fire. Burned her hand trying to reach for it, knocked it over, and the water scalded her from about the lower part of her sternum, to just below the navel. I went to put a cool, wet compress on her till one of the counselors could come and help... but I accidentally touched the burn." She shivers a little at the memory. "Before I knew it, she was alright, and I was the one with the burn. She freaked out, the counselors freaked out, so did the other kids in the unit. I was sent home that same afternoon. Never heard from any of those girls again. Sometimes, even your best friends, the ones you've known and trusted the longest, they'll abandon you." A soft little sigh escapes her. "The wings started growing in a couple months later. That... was an interesting experience."

Triage has posed:
"You didn't upset me," Chris tells Shannon. "You're fine. I ... was thinking about how some people treat us once they, and we, discover our ... gifts." His hand returns to the spot and he continues to rub her back as if the movement is as soothing to him as it s to her. "Some folks reduce us to that, as if we were nothing more than the thing that suddenly changed everything for us. I don't like that. Your gifts are wonderful but you're more than your gifts. There are things about you that would have been there with or without the power to take other people's wounds or fly. You have a tender but courageous heart. As I said, you have other talents, like the music and the cooking. Never lose those things." He frowns for a moment, and then adds, "I hope that you'll meet your childhood friend again so that you can reconcile, if she will."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head slowly, tears starting to trickle down her face despite the backrub. "I'm not counting on it. I found out that day that bigotry and fear can overpower friendship very, very easily if we let it. Maybe my... awakening... wasn't as dramatic or as violent as some. But it's mine. Still... others have experienced so much worse. You did, when it was your turn." She smiles a little bit. "Mom passed on the love of music to me, but she can't cook worth a damn. Dad can't carry a tune in a leaky bucket, but he and my maternal grandmother taught me about cooking." The smile doesn't last long as she remembers what day it is. "I wish this day of the year could be fun again, but... I don't know how."

Triage has posed:
Chris looks down at Shannon and frowns for a moment. His eyes and face reveal his longing both to sooth her and to protect her. "As long as the earth lasts, some people will hate," he predicts. "I'm glad that your mom and dad gave you a good home and taught you many things. I wish that I could have been there when you tried to help your friend. I could have helped you, and your friend might have changed her mind about such things. At least you would have had one friend during the trouble. I would have left with you and told them that they needed to learn some gratitude." Then he grins. "You wished that I could know what flying is like," he recalls. "I'll look for the video of that day in the DR later. For now, I have an idea. We could get a body-camera. You could wear it while you fly. Then I'd see it from your perspective, if that's okay with you."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles wide at the idea and nods. "That... actually sounds kind of fun. Let you see what a dive-bomb looks like from my perspective. I hope you don't suffer from motion sickness," she adds, actually giggling. "It's really not for the faint of heart. By the time I'm just halfway through a dive-bomb, I'm going close to my top flight speed, so when my wings snap outwards, BAM! It hits you hard and fast, and the ground's just whizzing by beneath you." The prospect of the idea has lightened her mood considerably, yet for a moment, she becomes somewhat pensive. "In a way, I did have a friend, though he didn't know it till much later. I kept thinking of how the good Captain must have felt, coming out of the ice. Everyone he knew and cared about, just... gone. But he picked up and carried on. Figured if he could, so could I. And yes, I did get to tell him that to his face."

Triage has posed:
"There's that smile!" Chris teases when Shannon approves his idea. "See? You have them. You just hoard them like a dragon hoarding gold." He grins, mirroring her smile, and his eyes twinkle. "The motion won't bother me. I've ridden a skateboard and pulled tricks and stunts on it since I was eight. I was almost good enough to qualify for the X-games. I know that your flights are much faster. I'd love to see that."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon laughs a little bit, and cants her head slightly to one side. "Well... did anyone ever clock how fast you went on a skateboard?" Her eyes cross a little at the mention of skateboarding, and she rubs the back of her head with a rather rueful smile. "I only ever tried getting on one once. Made it about five feet down the driveway before I fell and nearly cracked my head open on the pavement. Never tried it again."

Triage has posed:
"If you want to try it again, I still have my board and the safety equipment," Chris offers. "My mom worried about me with mine even after my gift arrived. Moms are like that - at least, the good ones are." Then he asks, "Do your parents keep in touch with you? I hope so. They should be proud of you, and not just because you can heal people."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and smiles even more. "I was just back to visit them a few weeks ago. Cannonball took me down, made a road trip of it. Turns out I might actually be able to go for my license around here, so I'm studying for that, too. That wouldn't have been possible back home, as mutant-unfriendly as the area is. I get pretty frequent calls from them, too. Wish I could send them pictures of my friends here and the school, but I'm not sure how much of that would be allowed, with security and everything. Guess I could ask one of the teachers sometime."

Triage has posed:
"I'd ask Sam first," Chris suggests. "He would know from both sides, as a teacher and as someone with close family. Andrea might know, but then she might be in a special case. As a celebrity, she might have a tougher time of it than Sam and Jay." As if anticipating another question, he adds, "I don't send many photos to my mom, and none around here due to my father and his 'friends.' I still manage to keep in touch with her." He chuckles. "She occasionally asks me if I've met any nice girls. As I said, good moms will do that."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon rolls her eyes and laughs, doing a bit of a facepalm. "That's moms for you." Somehow, the image of Chris' mom pestering him about developments in the feminine relations department has her laughing softly at first, then going into full-blown fits of giggling.

Triage has posed:
Chris grins when Shannon agrees and then starts to giggle. "See? No rain but bright sunshine," he teases. When the giggling continues, he cocks his head but still grins. "Have you heard that from your mom?" he asks. "If so, I'd say that it's a good sign. She doesn't think of you as 'different.'"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head, the giggling dying down somewhat. "I actually don't get that so much from my folks. Not yet, anyways. Back home, that never would've even been an issue. I was homeschooled, and after the change, I didn't go out at all. There were some times I'd see my mom and dad looking really worried, when they thought I didn't see, but they knew it was hard enough for me adjusting to being a mutant and already losing all my friends and pretty much the support of the whole community. They didn't want to rub salt in it, you know?" She rolls her eyes a little, and tries not to smile too much. "We'll see how long that lasts now that I'm here at the school."

Triage has posed:
"If they do, tell them something like what I tell my mom," Chris suggests with a grin. "We're near the biggest city in the nation. I often meet nice women but I want to be careful. Then I remind her of the old saying, 'Good things come to those who wait.'" He nods. "That worked so far, but my mom worries more about my safety than my social life." For a moment, he bites his lip. "I'm sorry that people in your community are hostile." Then he suggests, "You should invite your parents to come here to visit. Even if they shouldn't come to the school, someone could take you to meet them."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Shouldn't come to the school? Chris, they -brought- me here. Okay, maybe not so much for regular visits, maybe special occasions like the holidays. I mean, sometime I'd love for them to meet some of my friends and teachers. There's only been one teacher here I'm a little uncertain of, but that's just for not knowing them too well. And really only one person I've met in this area that I very strongly dislike... even if I respect their knowledge and skill." Her expression has shifted from jovial to the look of one who has eaten a sour lemon.

Triage has posed:
Chris nods. "I'd forgotten that they brought you here directly. It's unusual, and for that, they should be more welcome than some." His eyebrows quirk when Shannon suggests that a teacher and another person might not be suitable for introducing to her parents. "I'm sure that they'd enjoy a tour, but you don't need to introduce them to everyone. The important thing is for them to know that you're safe, doing well here, and happy."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon snorts a little bit, wrinkling her nose. "Thankfully, it's highly unlikely they'd ever meet one of them. Doctor Strange is definitely one that needs to work on his bedside manner. Even if he has some pretty mad skills." Though her expression does soften somewhat, and she nods in agreement to Chris. "Yeah, maybe I don't need to introduce them to everyone, but sometime it'd be nice to come as close as possible."

Triage has posed:
Chris nods to Shannon and smiles. "They're good people. I can tell that. I'm sure that they'd enjoy the visit and they could spend some time in the big city before or afterward." He digs into the burlap bag and produces another apple. He cuts it and offers the slices to Shannon. "Save at least one for the horse," he jokes.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie comes flying in after having to leave the part a bit earlier than he expected, but he had asked Alexis to it a bit spur of the moment. Into the back door of the stables walks Spiderman, well Spider-Sam. He had planned on coming in here to change clothes and keep those here from seeing him in the costume, even if he suspects Kitty will post pictures of it on the school net.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon raises her eyebrows, and tries not to smile. Tries--and fails miserably. Soon, she is in fits of giggles, and starts... singing? "Spider-Sam, Spider-Sam, does whatever a Spider-Sam does!" Her wings start fluttering to the beat, ruffling and wiggling about behind her as if they've got a mind of their own. Which when it comes to her emotions, they usually do.

Triage has posed:
If Shannon saw it, Chris was certain to see it, being slightly taller than his friend. His eyebrows flick with curiosity. He shifts to tip-toes, and then he joins in her song, grinning. He waves over the stalls to Sam. "It's okay, Spider-man. Your secret will be safe with us. Promise!" Then he asks, "How was the party?"

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie will pull the mask off and toss it at Shannon but is smiling "Had fun, ran into Alexis, so asked her to go with me, went as spiderman and Ghost spider. Kitty seemed to love the costume, her wasp costume went over like gang busters

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon still smiles but her wings droop just a little bit. "Well, good, glad you two had a good time." The moment she has an apple in her hand, though, there is a very strong nudge to her back, right between her wings. "You spoiled rotten pegasus!" She giggles and relents, relinquishing the apple to the great creature. "I hope Dani's making you fly all those off!"

Triage has posed:
Chris fishes in the sack for another apple. He glances to Shannon and sees the slightly drooping wings. Instead of asking, he slices the next apple quickly and steps to a different stall, giving another of the horses a treat. He glances to Shannon and suggests, "Put a note to Dani on the gate that reads, 'I'm fat! Fly me!'" Then he chuckles. "Did someone capture incriminating evidence of the costumes? More important, should I have more aspirin on hand tomorrow in the Wellness Office for ... afteraffects from the party?"

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie will walk over and offers Shannon a hug and says "Ah am sure Dani is getting him out flying alot, and just me being a little silly nothing bad on camera. I only had one partial glass of champagne so should be no ill effects tomorrow. Took Alexi home and decided to come back home and see what was going on here.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon's voice drops to something of a growl as she hugs Sam fiercely. "She breaks your heart, I break hers." A few deep breaths, a few heartbeats' worth of silence, and she manages to smile again. "Was it at least good champagne? Or were you the designated flyer for the evening?" She chuckles a little bit and steps back, otherwise keeping quiet as she listens to the two gentlemen.

Triage has posed:
The stable is small enough for Chris to overhear Shannon's protective warning. "I'm not family, but I stand with Shannon on that one," he says. "We have enough troubles from Sentinels, FoH, and families turning on us." Then he looks to Sam. "I don't know what's happening in the mansion but no one has called me, so I don't think that we had any riots or rash of food poisoning."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks to her, and says "It is a couple dates, how about giving her a chance to actually win my heart." He does grin at Shannon and kisses her on the top of the head "I appreciate the thought though both of ya"

Nightingale has posed:
"Given that this is the first date you've actually considered bringing to the mansion--and I had to hear well after the fact about others--that tells me it's more serious than either of you are thinking at the moment. Besides, you were charming enough to win a lil' sis, so methinks you'll have her eating out of your hand soon enough. Don't suppose she'll be by the club during off-hours again anytime soon...?" Uh-oh. Were the wheels in Shannon's head turning, maybe...?

Triage has posed:
Chris nods to Sam. "I do hope that it works for you. A good lady is hard to find even in the big city, especially one deserving of a teacher who's helped so many here." He looks to Shannon and then back to Sam. "That's why we're a bit protective. That's why I warned Andrea about Jay's fries a few nights ago. Relationships begin with respect, and that goes for a hungry man's fries as much as anything. It's often the little things that tell the tale."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie says, "Jay and Andrea, well thats a bit of a messy thing, and Ah had thought about another but she was not a mutant, and even dated someone else who lived here Shannon. Alexis is a teacher as well, and she may come by the club. Ah just ran into her while I was headed to meet Kitty and the others you have heard about I think all but maybe one date was before ya came to the school Shannon... i think.""

Nightingale has posed:
"Well, there was the one you mentioned going on one date with, and thought about it again, but then she showed up to Lorna's coronation on Pietro Maximoff's arm. Yeah, no, don't think I want to piss off that family. As for 'may' come by the club, you forget she already has once. And chewed me out for getting stage-shy." Shannon's face flames with the memory, her wings furling around her like a cocoon.

Triage has posed:
Chris looks to Shannon when she mentions stage-fright. He looks to Sam and then back to Shannon. "WHy?" he asks. "I know that you performed with Andrea, but many things happened on that day that no one should take as normal. I've heard of people who suffered stage-fright when the audience is small, because the performer could see individual faces."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks to her, and says "Yea she hollared at you cause you more talented than you want to believe, that you should embrace your talent a horrible thing.' He does smile at shannon though.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon sputters a bit, swatting at both gentlemen with her wings; though it's light and playful, one can wonder at their strength if she was really trying to fight someone off. "Oh, for fuck's sake... I am NOT that good! Sheesh!" Her face flushes a brighter shade of red, but she does smile somewhat. "Well, she can't holler at me if she ain't here or there, can she?"

Triage has posed:
"I don't know the details but unless the stage was open to anyone, she shouldn't expect you to take it on a whim. Should she?" Again, Chris glances between Sam and Shannon. "What if you weren't well?" he asks Shannon.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over to Triage, and says "She was telling her, she should be willing to sing on open mic night when I was telling her to and she would not cause she said she was not good enough

Nightingale has posed:
     "Oh for pity's sake... I'm NOT that great! Why do you think I don't take the stage during business hours?" The more the two try to say otherwise, the more red Shannon gets regarding her musical abilities. She hugs Sam fiercely though, and smiles. "Hey... you may be a pain in the ass but I love ya anyways, big brother."

Triage has posed:
"My point was that you shouldn't perform if you didn't want to perform," Chris clarifies. "Even professional musicians should have that choice. Again, it's a matter of respect." He continues to feed apples to the horses until the bag is empty. He flops it several times, and says, "That's all for now but I'm sure that you'll get more." He looks at Shannon and Sam and concludes, "I should head back to the mansion. Things have been quiet there. This can mean only one thing. Trouble is around the corner."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks to her, and says "I need to head myself, and my thing is more she seems to want t just needs self confidence." He hugs Shannon again and says "shower time for me."